Royal

Tiredness takes me

To the coffee shop

Already I feel slightly lighter

As I remember the young man

With puffed up eyes; his lost gaze

Makes me feel way more fortunate

It wouldn’t do

To focus on negativity

The day to day of her life

Is way too beautiful

I have found a seat, in

The museums upstairs alcove

With a window, to a tree

Whose sticky buds welcome

The somewhat delayed turn

From winter to spring

It is more true

The locus of connectivity

The time to time of seasons

She is so sure of beauty

This is a poem from Vagaries:

Love of The Key to Room 149

Available as ebook from Kindle
or as a homemade print book and audio cd from  poetryshop

Vigour

Brown and green and intense

Navy and neat and no pretence

Not so for those who quietly view

To yawn with absolute splendour

All intent of boredom

Theirs to eschew

With the strength

To defend attention

Contemplating

Most, or all of the truth

Sufficient to walk, crossflow

Across the floorboards

We, who wait to see why

It is she who takes the next step

This is a poem from Vagaries:

Love of The Key to Room 149

Available as ebook from Kindle
or as a homemade print book and audio cd from  poetryshop

Intake of Breath

Tiredness, dullness

Again excess takes its toll

Always an irritation

Calls for the scrape of movement

Always the failure

Of concentration provides my escape

I am a fake

Of contemplation

Which itself

Is beyond my state of comprehension

I am out of tune

In mind and body, I am flaked

Rest for rests sake

May be the only stake-able cure

This is a poem from Vagaries:

Love of The Key to Room 149

Available as ebook from Kindle
or as a homemade print book and audio cd from  poetryshop

All In

It will be some time
Before you find me

I look out
Of the window
To the canal; also
In the foreground

My gaze falls
On a straight and plain
Drinkers glass
Used now as a vase

Filled with sunflowers
Tulips, and bluebells
From the woods

My body is exhausted
I have the beginnings
Of a stitch in my shoulder

A result of four long days
Walking, while wearing
My winter overcoat

The exhibition is exuberant
With the works of Vincent:
His ten years as an artist

Given
(We pay 15 euros each)
For all the world to see

Would I have remained
In the yellow house?

Would I have stayed beneath
The blossom in the orchard?

Would I, I might
Except for the fear of practice

This is a poem from Vagaries:

Love of The Key to Room 149

Available as ebook from Kindle
or as a homemade print book and audio cd from  poetryshop

Modern

With the familiar

We are familiar

Yet close up

One eye is green

One eye is brown

& the vertical lines

Are masculine

& the horizontal lines

Are feminine

Within three rooms

To see Mondrian

& Gabo 

& Spencer

As daylight falls

Through the window

Blinded

With a fine mesh gauze

Some works

Are never realised

With others

We are never

Familiar at all

This is a poem from Vagaries:

Love of The Key to Room 149

Available as ebook from Kindle
or as a homemade print book and audio cd from  poetryshop