The Philosophy Of Freedom

I cannot watch my thought
Rudolf Steiner says so
Yet I can watch the dust mote fall
Through the air as I write this

Yes I am able, to watch, and to write
At almost one and the same time
Yet, to view that thought just then about you
No, no that is no longer possible

I could go back further in time
Maybe find a photograph for reference
Yet however strong the concentration
That thought, in real time, would not be visible

Yes I could imagine walking, on firm rippled sands
Even to be running, towards the Machair, in the rain
Yet, as I think I thought these thoughts
I cannot see my own thought processes

I will myself, to make certain things happen
And already you may know where this is going
Yet it seems that I cannot help myself
No matter that I cannot see through to the thought

Yes, nostalgia may interrupt, or interject
Messages might arise from deeply buried memories
Yet no amount of persistence, or even shadow boxing
Will let the ether of me, see the fading thought of you

Available from Amazon

Turner And The Whale

The air of past permissions
Rings quietly anew
No amount of indecisions
Can taint the favoured hue

O ship of ice
O sky of blue
O tumbling spice
O pray be true

The fair of cold collisions
Rings quietly anew
No count of derisions
Can paint the boarding crew

O ship of ice
O sky of blue
O tumbling spice
O pray be true

Available from Amazon

Indelible

How easy it is
To change a word or phrase
Either to save face, or
To create an entire new meaning

How insincere the lead pencil
Which allows the eraser
To make disappear
What once was gifted

So, in the next book
A return to pen and ink
Once more to go down the tramlines
To a certain, if unreachable, destination

Available from Amazon

Worthy In Wortley

Sat
With my arm on the warm radiator
Waiting
For my tea-time meal to be served

There you have it
In my 65th year
Not too too cold too too often
Not too too hungry, or anywhere near

So, a charmed life
Do I hear you say
Or an ordinary life
For those who know me better

Available from Amazon

Tell, Tell Somebody

I ought to write
About the light fading
About the wind turbines
Slowing down
About the frost
Laying deep, and crisp, and even

I ought to tell you
That this is the top
Of the Pennines, near to
My forefather’s roots
That nearby are still
Some of my family

I could tell you
That as I sat, in those
Spare few moments
And after
A calm conversation
With my eldest son

I had an empathy
For everyone who
Feels themselves
To be alone
Or feels themselves
To be lonely

I know that the emerging
Darkness, and the loss
Of the horizon
Will do little
Or nothing at all
To relieve their pain

I have all but completed
My Christmas shopping
Cards, and gifts
For family and friends

Who, through my sixty-five years
Have mostly spared me
From the emptiness of loneliness

Available from Amazon