Half A Song Or Less

I did not
Woman
I do not
Understand

I wait for the heartbeat
I wait for the band
I wait for the night
The night of the damned

Available from Amazon

The Letter Of Hope

I wanted to write to you; in the here, and in the now
As if I was about to send you an early morning letter

I would like to tell you
Of the big blue skies
Of Lincolnshire
And to let you know
How peaceful it is
Out at Gibraltar Point
To walk on the salt marshes
To watch the sun rise
To watch the sun set
In between
To partake of tea and coffee
In the new visitor centre

I would like you to know
The inner workings of my mind
You know the sort of thing
How memories come and go
How the past works its wonders
To lead us into the present
And onwards to the future
I am fond of meditation
Quietly, in contemplation

I read works about the soul
Also the collective unconscious
I hope that doesn’t make me
Sound too too esoteric
It is not that
I have any deep calling
Yet it does interest me
To explore my own self
What makes me happy
What gives me contentment

And what of you
If you read this
How might you reply
Would you tell me
Of the environment
And ambience
In your locale
Might you send me
Details of books
Which you have recently read
Or plays you have seen
At the theatre

And what of art
And those art galleries
Which you may have
The good fortune to visit
More especially though tell me
If you have walked on the sands
Or taken photographs
Of the wild roaring seas
And the majestic oceans

Yes, that kind of thing
Would appeal to me
It is important
Don’t you think
To feel to be alive
No matter how old
And grey we become

To be out in the elements
Brings me to life
To feel the wind and rain
To walk on fresh snow
To bask by the waves edge
In the heat of summer’s sun
To run down the sand dunes
Gasping for breath

I myself am reading memoirs at the moment
The Diaries of Anais Nin - Volume 5
Simone de Beauvoir’s All Said and Done
And Jonathan Stedall’s Where on Earth is Heaven
To name the most recent purchases of good fortune

Anais is evocative, sensual, speedy
No doubt she could lead me astray;
Simone is thoughtful, and thought-provoking
She would have encouraged me
To sign up to her causes
Jonathan leads me to the films
Which he directed for the BBC

The ones on Jung, and Rudolph Steiner
I would particularly recommend
Yet his portraits of John Betjeman
Are as charming as is the man himself
A fine romantic poet
You can find
Jonathan Stedall’s films on youtube
Just key his name into the browser

I was saddened very much
By a recent poem that I wrote
It is called Avoid And Abandon
I sincerely hope that it is not
A premeditated portent to the future
Better that the focus
As Thich Nhat Hanh says
Is mindful to reduce the suffering

Available from Amazon

Saturday

What is it, of these separate words
What is it if there is no reason
Why to try to explore the hidden one
Why to implore the open one only to be

Why use those awkward words
The separate and the hidden
When, if truth be told
Both of those lines were given

Why would Bill Nighy be here
In this Micklegate 45 cafe
Is he a lover of the vinyl
Is he playing in the town

How would you ask him
How he gives the awkward words gravitas
How would you ask him
If his packing cases are held by Bureau Veritas

What is it, of these street-facing windows
What is it if there is no celebrity
Why to try to explore the forbidden one
Why to implore to open one simply to see

Available from Amazon

Disproportionate

Someone said you were drunk
Someone said you were condescending
Someone said why visit the monks
Someone said is it never-ending

And so the conversation did move on
Yes the conversation did so move on

From Socrates to Pilates
To the cost of those who represent
From deputies to destinies
To down payments of the rent

Someone said what did you expect
Someone said it’s all part of the act
Someone said did you not read the text
Someone sad it’s a sad life, that is the fact

And so the conversation did move on
Yes the conversation did so move on

From Bake Off through to Strictly
And how fame is the stars intent
From take-off to feeling fairly sickly
With the purveyors of all that’s sent

Available from Amazon

Collected Commentary

I am going into town
To see no new people
I am going into town
To see more of the real me

I read your story
Of the grief-stricken young maid
I read your poems
Written on the railroads of USA

I too have stood, and also sat
In cold empty churches
I too have stood, also sat
On the edge of the fens

So we have shared movement
And been
To each other’s houses
To write, to read, to laugh

You are the real thing
And I am the old pretender
You have the gift
And also you have given

I am going into town
To see no new people
I am going into town
To see more of you know who

Available from Amazon