Highway

First the door
Then the carriage
From the almanac
Coupled in marriage

Rope filled thoughts
Thoughts that ravage
Scavengers rustle
Down’t unlit passage

An interior tussle
Dark with damage
All Freudian slips to
Psycho micromanage

Trips born in haste
Vain with baggage
Powdered tufts
Acrid as cabbage








a poem from the collection Into the Present Decade - Love with Droplets of Joy available by clicking on the link

Pittance of troubles

Insecurity and insincerity stand side by side at the gatepost; the CD player's drawer will not open

Another nail in the mid life, late life, risible crisis coffin; it doesn't amount to much does it, the result of a technical fault combined with low blood sugar levels

Does anyone really believe; or are these just words, for just how long should the endurance be measured to satisfy the title of believer

Thus to be endowed, with the moniker of an altogether satisfactory chap, not at all to my dissatisfaction; no news yet from the car insurance, a dull wet mist to look out on

The beat from Jim Moray might beat me back to life, as equally well might reading Romantic Moderns






a poem from the collection Into the Present Decade - Love with Droplets of Joy available by clicking on the link

I Write

There is sadness, is that not one of the reasons I go there; four down beats to every five beat bar, or five to every seven on an upbeat kind of day

Beats and bars and sweet sorrowful music to coincide with the tides ebb and flow; compelled by what's lost and what's not to be; to tell the truth how can we be swell yet at the same time dwell on the past presented by itself

There is hurt and pain, it is more than one half of what drives me; the coiled spring that energises the clock when otherwise all time seems spent

There are imaginary postulations, which if revealed would for sure embarrass me

I also need to find places to hide those moments of half-belief in ridiculous implausible situations and coincidences

These are daydreams of indiscrete circumstances; premeditations created with wilful invitations, and often in my mind super-sensorially accepted

All this holds at bay the clear and final closure; yes there is upset, the infinite concentration and distillation of years of personal doubt

Yet to give this up, to give up this past, to offer it to flame, is no more or no less than a partial personal cremation; it is too big an ask of this one person

Fires rise, sparks die away, embers glow until the rains come; yet our embers glow long beyond the rainfalls

There is that mouth taste of waste; what a place to take the case to tribunal, there to face the rights and wrongs, to sing the songs of good and bad across Pontius Pilate’s plate of contemplative pebbles

One stays quiet, even with the most direct attack, clearly more had broken down than could be in one mind entertained; that stream of bile on the journey north, what had been done to deserve this, surely tiredness can only accept it's fair share of the blame

I too am tired, tired of all the unease that surrounds me, as though I am the kernel of tiredness, the core of earths negative energy

& so I write with coloured pens, listen to artists in colourful conversation, choose purple as my new seasons colour, re-engage with paisley patterned cotton shirts, resplendent in their blues and berries



a poem from the collection Into the Present Decade - Love with Droplets of Joy available by clicking on the link

Nativity

By chance we happened upon a black lake walk
Shearwaters of reflection; reflect one more magical moment
The flight of the partridge and the exited young collie
Soul refresh, soul rebirth; while underfoot the twig-leafs crackled

Ethereal and eternity, thank heaven for spontaneity
Meander among the coriander, hands held to bless vision and line
Bright light out of beauty, swish, splash-light onto beech leaf
Sing and bring good to the good times; sing, bring goodness back again

Playful seeker of pleasure, hedonism out of Ithaca returned
Bountiful protector of the prosaic presenter
Wish for mirth, wish for shear essence, wish for fluorescence of joy
Atmosphere emerging, resurgence of energy here amongst our enigma

Pretend for the maker of dreams, protect the white rabbits of Bethlehem
Mend, cognisant of blends, become mindful of love innocent in joy
Sorting, beholding of images past, captured for our rapture
Floodlights on memories; evoke, provoke, free our fresh thoughts

Waltzing Matilda; whirling, swirling, dancing tunes, runes without time, blooms without blinds
Meditation, lovers medication, dedication, sealing, healing, revealing feathers and plumes, personas honed and groomed

Walking back along the pathways, hold spaces; minutiae, bind moments into spherical holistic schemes
Believe the fragments of fortune, blessed to fall in this particular, rather peculiar, entirely non-perfunctory way





a poem from the collection Painted Toenails in Nortons Grate - Love with Varnish Appplied available by clicking here

No Place for Mistake

Fourteen per cent
Your share in the weekly event
Take care not to monopolize
The one-seventh of heaven sent

Tread ever so lightly
In pleasance personify
Speak warm words wisely
Lest misinterpretation be lied

You receive only partial access
Wanted, on short term demand
If this brings with it duress
Ask what sort of life it commands

What sort of sad person
Will in time evolve
What sort of mad person
Will this low interest devolve








a poem from the collection Painted Toenails in Nortons Grate - Love with Varnish Appplied available by clicking here