Scrap Man

There is old angst in me
Anger that makes it hard to see beauty
Inhibited to realise the simple joys of being free

Anguish came, and stayed sometimes
Sat with me alone to trouble my mind
Twisted my heart, my hurt soul angrily redefined

I sought out solace tucked up in blame
Worked so hard for unpublished fame
Listened to poets in silent disdain

I travelled the world with an attitude of wrong
Neither in Paris or Rome did I break out in song
Always the pragmatist I stood apart from the throng

Now I see specks of light here as a sign

I have intention and foresight to work out in time
With breath and touch each day to combine

I aim at a peace, but with a vibrant soul
I will walk by waves, smile fully as they roll
I will wonder at skies, stars and moons
I will stroll with your names as forever you call


a poem from In & Out of Dream Space Love Embellished by Visitations click anywhere on the text for details

A single dust mote note

Midnight
At ten thirty
Houseplants die
By dust fair dirty

A room with a view
Of a railroad
A moor
Some way beyond

A radio station
Misplaced
Here a Saturday
On a Thursday

A dial beyond
Way past beyond
My last
Imagination


Would that this warmth
Was as settled
As the mind
That it tries to disturb

This body displaced
Replaced
Each spring
Each autumn

Each winter
Dusted
With a thin fine sprinkle
Of fair-weather soft fallen snow

A room with a view
Back over a fair few years
A mischievous miscalculation
Lost among a past matriculation

A song
Would that
To pluck
A single note

In time, in tune
My only; dare I even say
My only one regret
My missed single dust note mote





This poem is from the collection East of Lincoln Central available now on kindle - click on the text for details

Telephone

You didn't expect to feel so low
Why would you
Wasn't there laughter and lightness in her voice
Go back if you will
Analyse those thirty-one minutes
Line by line, as if a detective or forensic scientist
Better still
Write a diary note, from the distance of time


a poem from In & Out of Dream Space Love Embellished by Visitations click anywhere on the text for details

Simple complications

Don't want expensive presents
Would rather share
What it is already bared

Walk by both the faces
Still and turbulent races
Thoughts more clear

A path to steer
Day by day
Hopes with care to stay

Talk of misdemeanours
Or exclusions - faraway
Long lost conversations say

Or better wow; find words of now

More worthwhile
You and I to softly smile

Simple complications
Debates of long passed stations
Hang on for a while

Wait just a moment won't you
Debates they care, don't they
Care for a victor either way

Why then (sic)
Is it in any way nostalgic
To wear a stripy scarf

Or a bead on a wrinkled wrist
To choose again for time
To be of value; time

The essence of being
The chance to gather
Disparate thoughts


Placed above the sterling
Time; way above the sterling
Way above the tarnished garnered coin

Don’t want expensive presents
If in any way that brings resentment
Of what is already spent

Talk from far off places
Stairways & pretty faces
Climb to these elevated floors

With one door
And one window stay
Elopers with a care to play

This poem is from the collection East of Lincoln Central available now on kindle - click on the text for details

Daylight Lamps

I am where I am
Do not let me become disheartened              
Let me write
Let me paint
Let me love
Let me work
Let me be outgoing and creative, let it be me

There is a brightness, the same brightness
Of the streetlight when, as a thirteen year old boy
I was torn from my playgrounds
I was unconditionally stripped of my boyhood friendships

I am where I am
Do not let me become unduly despondent
Let me play
Let me dance
Let me drink
Let me find romance
Let me take the steps to find the rare and fairly be, let it be me

There are sounds, the same sounds as from
The youth club juke box
I was a clumsy yet enthusiastic teenager
I never quite made it with the girls
I never quite made the football first eleven

I am where I am
Do not let the weight become a burden
Let me procreate
Let me fornicate
Let me hesitate
Let me stay up late
Let me weigh up how to strive to be, let it be me

There are duties, responsibilities; the same
Organisational representations that I fought
For and against as suited my fast emerging
Slick suited, neatly booted, superficial persona

I am where I am
Do not let me dine on introspection
Let me read
Let me breathe
Let me be boisterous with pretension
Let me seek
Let me reek in the abstinence of joy, let it be me

There are doubts, there are blood rushes of emotion
Passions that charged at me
As sure as did Van der Graff's electrostatic, silver balled generator
There was just a chance that I could make her

I am where I am
Do not let me prize on those past reflections
Let me ache
Let me recreate

Let me take away all leave of my senses
Let me so relate
Let the mistakes be raked over or burnt intestate, let it be me

There are voids, gaps in hopes and understandings
There is no we, as a we anymore
There is silence and there is darkness
The uneven load is a load too much to bear
There is no choice & no forgiveness.

I am where I am
Do not let me be only pre-existent
Let me study
Let me talk
Let me roam
Let me grieve
Let me browse
Let me leave
Let me go off to find and make new friendships
Let me love to be the man who loves again, let it be me

There is care, tenderness, love, vulnerability, colour, energy
Intellect and a warmth of welcome, a desire to please
The usual problems
We each have baggage, stuff that requires deft negotiation.

I am where I am
Do not let me conjure up conundrums
Let me be simple
Let me be plain
Let me be outrageous
Let me be as it is to be, let it be me
Let me be thankful for the days ahead
Let me share more than I ever cared to before






a poem from In & Out of Dream Space Love Embellished by Visitations click anywhere on the text for details