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Monday, 7 April 2014

Driven

I write
To say
That I am attracted

Yet
In truth
Your infinite magnetism

Wrenches
At my
Molten core

I write
To say
That I am swayed

Yet
In truth
Your uninhabited distraction

Calls me
To the Mount
Of Evermore

I am drunk
Although
Not by alcohol

I am drugged
Although
Not by illicit narcotics

I am crazy
Although
Not by illness fever

I move towards that place
Where no-one
Will love me

Bounded
By doubt, that
Someone else is rocking

Lost
In head
& heart & soul

I fear
Irresponsibility
Locking itself down within me

All that I have been
I am
Again becoming

All that I have seen
Hey, listen to the
Spanish guitars strumming

The warmth
The light
The incidence of fright

In the sweated nights
Of imaginary
Loving

It is as if
With a thousand lashes
I desire to go self beating

It is as if
All my previous shallowness
Is seeking a way out

My shallowness
My years of self deceiving
Are pleading for a way out

I won’t keep you at bay
As, I thought, you
Kept me at bay

Over all those mountains
Of forgiveness
I will forgive you

Yet it’s true
That I could not
Share you

& it’s true
That the truth
Will still be true

I dare not think
Of a time together
Never in my mind

Have I had
So many things
To try undo

Wherever then
You seek total commitment
I will be on the sidelines

Some intermittent thankful recipient
Of the incremental rites
Inside the human zoo

Such small crumbs
Are all I need
To continue my journey

Small crumbs
To encourage me
To be on my way


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

Sunday, 6 April 2014

400? Moi?

Rooms with left open doors
Moonlight, on stretches of night
Soft mists that wash the sky

She remembers: curved arches
A rougher alabaster, the print of 
A Girl with Pearl Earring

It was in Amsterdam
That she bought the notebook
Their parting then, ever more painful

Pages; torn out, torn to hold
To hold, with thoughtful hands
Tears withheld from her unsafe eyes


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

Saturday, 5 April 2014

Onzekerheden

Nearer to the hurt
Further from the ache
Leave the time to suit
Of patience still to wait
Beyond the mirrored view
Into the smoke and mist
To sit beneath the window
Ease into the drift

In the instant's instant
Sounds, near and far away
Love of all that’s distant
She feel’s though to say
Nearer to the hurt
Further from the ache
Leave the time to suit
Of patience still to wait


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

Friday, 4 April 2014

Sexton’s Beast

You gave me something to chase
You bore our child, from a cottage
With a lane down to the sea

If sex is the physical, thank fuck
That we fucked
Yet it’s still the residual that holds me

Unfolds my weaknesses by the shore
Ever to the open door, deploring
My absent moods, how I did brood

The interlude wasn’t seen, a mean
Head for the silver screen, lay back
& be led; be led, let it be said

You gave me something to chase
Your roar along the promenade
A race with indiscriminate pleas

If lust is the miracle, good luck
That we looked
Yet it’s still the indivisible that holds me

Withholds my meekness evermore
Never to restore, scoring
My reticent grooves; how I moved

The certitude isn’t clean, a dream
Stead for the sepia sheen, stay back
That I may be led; be led, let it be said



A poem written after reading Anne Sexton’s poem The Beast


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

Thursday, 3 April 2014

Pictures

Entente Cordiale
A sort of dialogue is begun
Backslapping, thin & light
Yet a beginning for all of that

The programme is installing
With what hopes
That the photographs
May be recovered

The database is upgrading

A peace of love
Such fleeting, moving stillness
That brings a facial likeness
To the new morning


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