Rivulet

Wave crash

Whiplash

Onward

Unknown soldier

Wave crash

Sea splash

Oceans grow

Ever deeper, ever colder

Salt water drains

Across bitumen tarmac

Lit by starlight; the streetlight

Goes as nowhere

Rain water

Drains into rivulets

Hidden, moss grown stones

Roll on, roll on over

Wave crash

Pebble-dash

Inward, homeward

Onward, boulder

Wave crash

Cars smash

Society’s apart

Grown colder

A poem from Rising Shoots & Falling Stars Love Caught in the CrossfireAvailable from iTunes - see details by clicking on this text

Invitation

Where are you now
Write to me more often
Where are we now
So innocently spoken

Where I am
Fairly often
There you are then
Nothings broken

Written invitation
Simulated tactile sensation
The coffee’s black
In Massarella’s café

The light is bright
Behind the lens
I smile, awhile
In moments of magic

Where are you now
Write to me more often
Where are we now
So excitedly spoken

Knocks on the head
Some say I still suffer
Knocks on the head
Woken with beauty

Concentrate
On a transparent mind
Postulate, bring to life
Disorder thoughts inside

Drive me
Madly
Introverted
Extrovertly

Where are you know
Write to me more often
Where I am now
Panic fades slowly

A birth is more special
Than I can contemplate
A life is more special
Than I dare care to admit

How to release
Unwise ineffectual pressures
Retain, explain
Loves compassion learnt

Where are you now
Write to me more often
Grow me
Slowly

I feel
To exude high expectation
Is this received
Perceived, untrue

You seem able
Stable, of invention
Thoughtful, real, true
You, you…

Supportive or disruptive
Challenge or cajole
Balanced or biased
Me or you

Energy flows
The picture grows
The smile returns
Doubts burn away

Where are you now
Speak to me
Speak to me more often
Kick me

Metaphorically
Engage me
Express me super-sensually
Draw me, repeatedly

Tell me
What I should give
Demand of me
To reach you, with you

Command; perhaps
On reflection
The flow should meander
A little

Where are you now
Still with me
Instill in me more often
Be no more a distraction

Extracting
Self satisfaction
Self sufficiently
Unaware

People need people
Compliments breathe
Human intercourse is
The second oxygen of life

Where are you now
Will you
Be
By my side



A poem from Rising Shoots & Falling Stars Love Caught in the Crossfire

Available from iTunes - see details by clicking on this text

Phantasy

The rules of deception
A modern boutique hotel
Sepia tone pictures on the wall
Leather clad menus at the table
Sultry jazz music for wallpaper

Sat at separate tables, to begin

The cast iron posts and rails
That divide off the raised area
They appear to be authentic
Carry years of painted layers
Fixed down by torn headed bolts

We look away at the sea-view, to begin

Her long hair is dyed jet black
Straggly, but not in any way untidy
Sure, for sure to be authentic
The significant ring is on her finger
If you don't know me by now
You wont ever, ever know me

Elegantly she moves, to begin

Dressed entirely in the finest silk and lace
She makes slow passage to the ladies room
My watch drains towards eternity
Into the light the black clad mistress emerges
Floats on air past me without motion
Past me, on to the funeral directors parlour



Listen to the poem for free on SoundCloud by cliking anywhere on this text

Engineer, Mathematician, Poet

Twenty-five years
Before I dared
To use the p word

You used it
In the first poem
In your first published collection

Although even you
You the most forthright
Of your generation

Even you
You dared not go there
Not on the first line

Instead you cared
To lead us on
With a quaff of the black stuff

& words drawn
From the north-south divided
Attractions of polar-physics

Later I will paint
Fall in love
With absorption

Think of gin
Stilled in my
Grandparents parlour

Later still I will dream
Walk or fly
Run or skip

Become endearingly
Overwhelmed by the days
Experiences & visitations



Listen to the poem for free on SoundCloud by cliking anywhere on this text

Nuclear non-laconic

All of all time
Dwell on physical love
Soft blown heads of corn
Newly mown, fresh laid hay
Warm skin with the elements
Traced lines in virgin fields
Fondles on summers sands
Shadows, on and off the page

Temptation of sensual deliverance
Open to touch, open to exploration
Manyfold the layers of reflection
In the hazy afternoon sunshine
Daydreams of coastal paths
Of bathing in salt water
Naked and immense


Listen to the poem for free on SoundCloud by cliking anywhere on this text