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Sunday, 7 December 2014

Ferry Cross The Irish Sea

Even as I begin to think about ethics and morals I wonder that it has taken me so long, in my life, to understand that my mind may also have some givens, some inherited roles for me to follow
And as I remember yesterday’s doubts, as to my ability to have organised such a complicated set of arrangements as is required to take a vacation over the sea to Ireland
Then, as that hour for departure approaches, the latches, the linkages, the cogs, the wheels, the clutches and the gears all become a muddle; only the ethics and the morals hold off the panic, only they help to keep self-destruction at bay
Where I am now influences where I will be this evening, where I will be this evening influences where I am now, where I am influences the choices I make, between how I am now, and how I might or may be then


From Christopher Sanderson's Ireland Poems
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Saturday, 6 December 2014

Percolate

In the hollows of the wind
Half quiet of night
Immersed in nature

A jubilant hermits book
Good time before sleep
Reverberations of secret worlds

Hold on; remember skin
The half smiles of love
So desperate to share


Friday, 5 December 2014

World Music

Fine points, in sharp shadows
Ambient sounds of discretion
Any other room; past times
Always to find
Another room

Clear as light, and dark
Famously white & blue (turquoise)

Some part of a touchstone
As emerald or jade

Sharp contrast to the Jet
To the full coloured beach huts
On the long curve
Of a new found
Promenade


Thursday, 4 December 2014

Ambient Love Words

Say I love you
Yes I love you
Say you love me
Yes I love you

Say so, say so
I love you
I love you

Say so
Say so
Say so I love you
Say so I love you

I love you, so say so
I love you, so say so

Say I love you
Say I love you

Say so
Say so
Say so say
Say so say

Say so I love you
Say so I love you
I love you
I love you

I love you
I love you
I say
I say

Say so
Say so
Say so I love you
I love you


Wednesday, 3 December 2014

Iceland

Taken Down
Moving out, sideways
On sleigh paths
To landing strips

Would you be there
If I were to ask you

Taken out
Moving down, sideways
With winters sun
Out to frozen sea

If I were, to ask you
Would you be there