BBB Poem 72

Leaving, on a Sunday morning
Leaving on a jet plane
Receiving love, on a Sunday morning
Leaving is no way the same

Disbelief, good times come and go
Streams of vapour trails
Belief my love, good times come and go
Streams set out to different sails

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BBB Poem 71

We have all suffered, she said
I won’t do that I again, but I did
Of course I don’t imagine
That they would have

Is there a tipping point
The first anorak, or cagoule
The first Harris Tweed
The time to stop playing pool

As a one time mathematician
Could I draw a graph
Take out the photo album
To see when I no longer laugh

Yet this place is all about those
Little spots, of a polite sign
The mushroom soup is off, no bother
A small laugh, Broccoli and Stilton’s fine

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BBB Poem 70

Of course I like poetry
Don’t I subscribe to the societies
Quarterly magazine
Yes I know they are often left unopened
On the sideboard with the post

And don’t I every month
Buy a book of new poetry
Or a book of poetry new to me
But no I am sorry
I cannot tell you the name of the last one

Yes I do write other poet’s poems
Into my hard-backed notebook
I write in different coloured inks
I write them out for safe keeping
For closer reading
Though there haven’t been entries
Not for a while

I have run creative writing & poetry workshops
For over a decade now
Albeit they are for dwindling numbers
Having given up the vigour
Of the spoken word

I enjoy listening to poets on the radio
And watching poetry, in its many guises
On the television, but I wonder
Why is it always the same old faces
And just how old is John Cooper Clarke

Ten years ago, after completing my MA
I asked if I could do a PhD in video poetry
My tutor refused my request
He said it was not a serious subject
I hope he retired, yes, I hope that is the case

I have my own blog, hosted by Blogger
A new poem of mine is posted everyday
With no explanation or background
Yes I know there is a link to buy the pamphlet
But I’m not sure it works, for no one ever has

There is an interview
With me pontificating, questioned
By my partner Kate
Search coastmoor on YouTube
It’s getting on, but mostly I still feel the same

I never did care
For those intellectuals who deconstruct
And reconstruct at will, their will
Yes Ruth, I am talking about you

Why do I write this
And what is the use of poetry
Well
Today I will judge a poetry competition
So I thought you ought to have my credentials

My votes will be for feelings
Emotions
Inspirations
Creativity, and love: o yes, I must sense love

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BBB Poem 69

The walls are solid
The windows are deeply inset
I am up at four in the morning
Basking in the house apparatus light

Outside, the old stable walls
Are not so strong
And the Virginia Creeper
Why, as it must, it is creeping

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BBB Poem 68

So this is where we’re at
We’ve done the this and that
Meddled with the tit for tat
Behaved like the drowning rat

So this is how we are
We pushed ourselves too far
We stopped looking for the star
And drove West in the motor car

Would that October
Could be any other time
Would that to stay sober
Could twist me down the line

Would that February
Was also less weight
Would that to be merry
Could open the gate

But this is where we’re at
We missed out on getting back
Settled for defence, or attack
Behaviour of the downright prat

But this is how we are
We raised too high the bar
Stopped smelling molten tar
Drove East in the motor car

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