Past Benbecula airstrip
My mind trips into the past
Your lasting impressions
Stress the importance of
The concordance of memory
Friday, 19 September 2014
Thursday, 18 September 2014
Volbeda
He paints from memory
He walks across the machair
Out to the still or raging seas
On to the living sands
Back in his studio he lets
The canvas carry his load
He works from memory
The depths of his distant
Unconscious are ravaged
Whilst his present mood
Reflects in the surface
Tension of the painting
These will be original
Works from memory
For as Jac says ‘he is
A professional artist
He is a painter
Not a printmaker’
Wednesday, 17 September 2014
Young Man
Restless soul
Rips at his cigarette
His thin artist legs
Carried quick in red plimsolls
As he skips
Across the decking
On to the seaweed-strewn rocks
By the loch side
Tuesday, 16 September 2014
Reclamation Yards
Past the broken down tractors
Past the randomly discarded farm implements
Over the heather moor and the peat bog
Past the rebuilt black houses
Past the new self-build houses
With abandoned caravans
The islanders you would think
Are not fond on aesthetic beauty.
Perhaps this is what a hard life brings
Years of cutting peat or catching fish
Years of toil before this current time
Of holiday housing the leisured classes
Perhaps these years of hardship
Coupled with the regular visits
Of mist and rain combine
To build an island consciousness
Where survival and shelter comes first
A, bloody well, long way first
This is not a place for you seekers
Of the peak
Of the self realisation pyramid
Of the self realisation pyramid
Monday, 15 September 2014
Rain
There is a song at the waters edge
There are pebbles on vacant sands
There are swirls
Where the water heads towards the sea
There are people, why wouldn't there be
The beauty of this beach idyll
Is then all but beaten out of me
By Kate's insistence
That we carry on walking in the rain
Towards a small dwelling
With four windows and a door.
I go along with the daftness for a while
But finally insist on returning to the hotel
Kate takes shelter
She walks to my left side away from the slanting rain
My right side becomes soddened.
At the cross roads we turn right
Now we walk directly into the wind, and rain
Kate takes shelter
She walks just short of a rainfalls depth behind me
My front becomes entirely soddened
A calm emerges, clear light ahead
There are songs in my heart
There are stones for my feet to kick
There are puddles for children to skip and splash in
There are people, why wouldn't there be
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