Buffered

In times of separation
All that care
Is passionately expected

Dusk to dawn dependants
Placed their bets
For the never-ending story

Not quite in the gutter
But not far away
In camera-shutter circles

How much sadness
Reflects on the water
How much joy suppressed

Or flows of adrenalin
Time to tell and show
The deepest deep-hurt

That cuts into sensitivities
And causes the revolt
Against established society

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Breathing

Five minutes more
Before
The door opens
And mediations begin

As if the score
Could core
Itself completely
And contemplate sin

At the seashore
Walk some more
Inside the mind
And analyse the grin

Take the floor
Close the door
Engage experience
And love as you cling

Available on Kindle

Blue Pictures

When the past was only one
When the good was good as gone
When days, and nights, were ever long
When the mind was killingly strong

That the blue light, on the tree
Before the words on being free
Stolen smiles such brief history
Times in line, total all that I see

When wind in sails shows nothing wrong
When to start each prayer we had a gong
When every morning began in plainsong
When girls waltzed in, and came along

That the blue light, on another tree
Beyond the words that try to seize
Given love, it is love with no mystery
Seemingly in awe of the secret breeze

When the past at last is neatly undone
When the future is secure now we run
When the hand, stands free of the gun
When strength is no wrench from fun

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Brief Encounter

Another, yet another new book
Bought from the remainder bookshop
The waitress asks “is it a good book”

I tell her I run creative writing workshops
She says she studies poetry at university
We both, so it seems, enjoy reading

I tell her that this book, by Orhan Pamuk
Is about how we feel when we write novels
And yes, that the first chapter is brilliant

“I must remember that” she says
She puts my sandwich onto the table
And skips off down the stairs; I smile

Available on Kindle

Catch

We talked about yoga
Weight training, and marines
He told me about photography

The holy trinity;
Of exposure, shutter speed
And one other, which I forget

We explored the technicalities
Of our common ground, he
Had just split with his girlfriend

We were not, neither of us
New age travellers, yet he
Showed interest in my meditation

I talked about the Buddhists
Transcendentalists, and the mindfulness
He was vulnerable, so easily hooked

Available on Kindle