BBB Poem 75

Stream, river, pool, pond, puddle, lake, tarn
Water, water and rock, water, rock and culvert
And young men
Young men climbing freestyle
Through the rocky water
Meanwhile, in this huge, open-topped cavern
The mobile telephone
Allows the humanist celebrant
To take a booking
For a funeral
The week after next

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BBB Poem 74

Awake with the ache, the pure echo
Of the plain pain of torn fibre
Every night becomes the same
The joy of sleep is lost to the insane

Awake with Athens ache, the purest echo
Of yesterday’s walk deep among the tissue
As daylight entered, as dusk the same
The coy boys lover has given up the game

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BBB Poem 73

I have my own darkness
My dark soul of the night
I have my own pain
Physical, emotional

I follow the dawn light
Welcome my soul to the morning
I have my own particulars
In the present, from the past

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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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