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Monday, 7 January 2013

Aloft

Only the light of the lava lamp
As I listen to the plucked strings of the lute
Only to know that sleep is still some time away
I say that this writing is my beautiful consolation

Easy to be at ease
While one reaches to the past and to the future
Easily to find escape
From the dark stares of the present

An appeasement not shared
By those not so restful as this one
Relatives perturbed with their pasts
Stormed by heir presents and their futures

I have prepared my own stabilisation
I give it with some confidence to others
I have cathartically worked through millions of words
& still I will always give you the same sad or happy stories

A thousand times or more
Yet always with a misinformed tinge of hope
That one day there may be a reconciliation
Always in the fear of that dash of colour

A deep red rose on the shiny black suit
Also a slice of inferred beauty
In the V neck turquoise sweater
Over an inviting sunburnt breast

Always because we have to settle
I pose with a sense of tranquility
The calm sea to the clear horizon
Always, if able 

I would aim at a hint of playfulness
Such as with the sailboats in the harbour
Yet always in truth I edge towards escapism
For none of us do return, yet some day one of us might


Sunday, 6 January 2013

Plastic Film

There is a photograph
Somewhere in existence
I am the principle subject
Sat quietly, at a kitchen table

It is a small cottage
The afternoon sun filters
Through the high level windows
Past a pair of cockatiel's

The painter’s palettes
Are in a black fold away tin
The water colour painting
Is on a hardboard sheet

My black stonewashed sweatshirt
Is a gift; made in Australia
So the shark logo on the sleeve
Would have you believe

Thin auburn air, and a steady
Stance suggests a gentleness
An innocence that the photographer
Captures with simplistic empathy

All else is lost in my minds articles
Although I do think of orange flowers
I also have an idea of a feint wash
That created a turquoise background

I tell you this in response to another 
Image; from elsewhere in my existence
Where birds are freed from their cage
In search of those self same freedoms


from the collection

The Curved Ball of an Artists Model
Love Encouraged By the Breakout
Available from itunes by clicking here

Saturday, 5 January 2013

Mystified by the Journey

I'm still inclined
To frieze my mind
With her favoured pictures

I'll find the time
With ease designed
As if it was the scriptures

Plain as day 
We stayed away
Called ourselves the victors 

Though with feet of clay
I held back her sway
Now all that's left are the strictures


Friday, 4 January 2013

Lush

Heavenly to write of touch
Rushes of times when such stuff
As transference or lapping waves
Met on the sun blessed beach

Faith to care for futures much
Exalted hopes honed good enough
For Neapolitan throws, or slow
Walks off the boardwalk out of reach

Presence then to talk in tongues
Of colours, scents and textures crushed
To feel the velvet worn with razored silk
As the forlorn son of man with lust impeached

Heavenly to write of either in the ether
Flushes of times reminded, hushed voices
That floated free on the Pyrenean breeze
Soft words squeezed hidden by the lovers breach

Thursday, 3 January 2013

Aged

We don't have those faces anymore
Those neat mohair double breasted suits
No longer fall so easily

Off ones slender frame
The little black dress
Is passed down the charity shop line

Should there be another do
It would be a more sombre affair
No wild abandon lovers

Who brought their flash of light
To the instantly
Gratified journeys

We won't pace
Outside doorways anymore
Those fretful eyes that cried tears of joy

Now employ another motive
Thighs that made grown men sigh
Are hidden by jeans of denim brut

Should we choose
To regain our youth
It would be with nostalgic flair

As he randomly discovers
One could forge a clash
With dissatisfied attorneys