Most days I would try to write a poem; it is a practice, as I suppose is meditation, or smiling, or watching the world go by
Friday, 17 August 2012
Almost Time
We walked together towards her car
She was attractive in a precise sort of way
With her pretty daughter holding her arm
There was talk of a party
Announcement of a celebratory gathering
At the car she leant in towards me
She kissed my cheek, and my neck
"You will join us, won't you"
I woke with a lightness
Good to feel wanted
If only I had
Had the chance to accept the invitation
Celebrate the times of such beauty
Tie into the good times
The ways of peaceful love
Be thankful of all that your vessel is able to carry.
A poem from Nameless Places and Hospital Gowns - Love Cared for by Relate available from iTunes and Amazon
Thursday, 16 August 2012
Overlay
The latest dream tries to write over the earlier dream. I work hard to hold on to both recollections.
Now I am walking home in the sunshine, I am beside the campus college library. I can hear her on her mobile phone, her joyous infectious voice bubbles over with enthusiasm. Then I hear her say that she has seen me. She tells whoever it was she has to go.
In the earlier dream I had been in, and part caused, a car accident involving three drivers. I could not remember my home address or other insurance details so I took the two other drivers back to her house. I was upstairs. They stood together talking at the bottom of the stairs. In a strong voice I told them not to talk about it until I was with them. She gave me her address book, open at a page where my details dropped out; they fell and disappeared. I could not find anything about me. I began to panic.
A poem from Nameless Places and Hospital Gowns - Love Cared for by Relate available from iTunes and Amazon
Wednesday, 15 August 2012
I do believe the artist could be on to something
The moving sculpture represents water
The moving water
Asks the water lilies to stand proud
And the occasional sunlight
Spirits through the broken cloud
The breeze lifts
My fine auburn hair
In waves across
Thin framed spectacles
A light lead
Is automatically fed
Into my Rotring
Vorsprung dur technic
Precise point pencil
I look for words
& draughtsman's kerbs
Straight lines to nowhere
Are long forgotten
Gardeners move hither
Into and out of
The garden centre they wither
They choose to wilt
In silt that's out of sunlight
Anything or nothing
To avoid the metallic cams
And the tubular rings
Which at this moment lie still
Defiant under the gaze
Of the two wishful brothers
The sculpture now an installation
Springs into life
Visually
I do believe that the artist is on to something
But as always
It is the detail that lets him down
The sounds
Of ill fitting mechanisation
The grind that grinds you down
The resounding sound
Of ill fitting mechanisation
The sculpture now an installation
An installation that goes up and down
But in sympathetic non symphonic time
The sculptress she wears a frown
Tuesday, 14 August 2012
Of wider fortunes frown
Smile
Eyes of bigger fortunes
Trails blazed
In longer grass
Meanwhile
Cries of doubt are cast
Held now steady
Here in working class
Stiles
And cucumber sandwiches
Picnics, pitchers and jeroboams
Of blackcurrant and lemonade
Meanwhile
Survivors of lives endured
Fair now ready
Where are their good times past
Weights and tribulations
Of bigger nations
In times of famine or fast
Meanwhile
Those eyes
Of wider fortunes frown
In a round, sound & stronger glass
From the Collection I Suppose You could Call It Country, available on Kindle
Monday, 13 August 2012
I love you & I’m not sorry
I love you & I'm not sorry
I'm not sorry for the way I feel
I don't feel sorry for you, I'm in love
And love's the thing that’s real
Whatever happened happened
Whatever is past is past
It's not the you that’s dampened
It's not the you that’s cast
So let’s celebrate your ingenuity
Your tears to make us laugh
So let’s celebrate also incongruity
Your fears to chase the chaff
I love you & I'm not sorry
I'm not sorry for the way I feel
I don't feel sorry for you, I'm in love
And love's the thing we steal
From the Collection I Suppose You could Call It Country, available on Kindle
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