in that moment of memory
where we grasp for the salt
in the sea’s fresh estuary air
sat here on the quayside
with prawns and peroni
in the dreamy afternoon sun
then to step out through
fragrant parklands and gardens
towards the brick floor courtyard
where we approach
the ever so so solid doorway
into the presence of love
at six-forty-five or thereabouts
i hear the geese
on their way perhaps
from their night time
place of safety
to the daytime feeding grounds
or because it is warming up
allegedly
or are they beginning
their long flight
back to summer in the arctic
the pathways of love
are scattered with fresh seeds
waiting for the footprints of lovers
to make their impressions
into the receptive ground of being
where the process of creation evolves
step by loving step
is poetry
always from the past
i was asked
by one particular person
i thought of dust
dust behind the door
dust beneath the floorboards
yes i said the past is always
where the dust settles
we all have our gurus
our mentors in wisdom
mine for the moment
are rupert and adam
eckhart and david
and not forgetting
thich nhat hahn
the man who gardens
is the man who plans
the man who writes
is the man who records
the man
who records his plans
is the man
who finds his way to love
he wasn’t aware
if his vertebrae
stacked up straight
or if all of his disks
were truly in line
but what he did know
was that love
would play a part
in the telling of this story
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Sea cold coca cola
Salt and Asti Spumante
Champagne supernova
Big blue Atlantic sea
There’s burger and there’s onions
There are barbecues for free
Away from mother Meavy
Down at Godrevy
There’s mother’s flying kites
With ladders in their tights
Its natures might
This big blue Atlantic Sea
Sun’s been up for hours
Though it’s the going down I’ve come to see
I’m captured by the guileless wonder
Of Godrevy’s big blue Atlantic sea
We’re dealing with the wonderment
It’s more than just a breeze
This rock face is shorn
By the waves of scorn
It’s more than just a breeze
That last cigarette, a simple bet
It’s more than just a breeze
This habit worn
For years forlorn
It’s more than just a wheeze
Avocado prawn
Avogadro’s norm
Enjoy the fruits of summer
Forget the beef and grizzle
And the turkey twizzle
Instead pray let the herb oils drizzle
You’re galvanised with energy
I’m corroding, turning rust to dust
Your stainless sheen is shining
My pitted mind is blind
You’re climbing cliff-tops surely
I’m using crampons for security
Your certainty is widening
Yourself you’re swiftly finding
My broken shafts are not for laughs
These words, they’re just the gas
Endless complications
Wordless conversations
Forgotten combinations
Splendid isolations
Removed from all temptations
Distance dulled sensations
No communiqué or revelations
Dependant isolations
Craving recreations
Return on base to stations
A pairing of incantations
A wasted life of separations
Its been four months of poems
Since she asked me to be going
That’s long enough for other stuff
To take me off and trawling
So what stops you lad, what drives you mad
What holds you back, from your oats a sowing
Well if that I knew, in this endless stew
I would have ended by forgoing
I’ll think of her more than I can thank her
My minds been like a canker
I’ve walked along the waters edge
I’ve trod my footsteps in the sand to pledge
So stay awhile
Beneath this summer smile
Observe these soaring cliffs
Beneath of which I sit to sift
Soliloquy or fast
Passed places ever last
Moss and luxurious lichen
Waters from the kitchen
Its fibered growth turns grumbling rocks
In to the colours of Celtic summer frocks
Sand, and sand, through twisted toes does tumble
Grains to maintain this odd refrain so humble
Again sustained by summer’s sun
Upon which I sure must not stumble
