Would it do;
To count the waves
Or measure
The snowflakes
Would it help;
To stand barefoot in the surf
As the crystals settle
Then melt, on my brow
What might I hold onto
Through physically feeling
What might I gain
By experiencing real experiences
To walk on the pebbles
To stand on the sand
Me, a mid-sixties rebel
From a northern land
Wednesday, 30 May 2018
Tuesday, 29 May 2018
Coursing
The arm shakes, involuntarily
The physiotherapist said that was a good sign
The nerves apparently beginning to feel again
And it is true
All down the length
From shoulder to fingertip
I can hear both pain and communication
As though there are new awakenings
In spontaneous conversation
Yet the words struggle
To pass around the elbow
Formed into a right angle
By the modernist chair
Also, as if to act
As a brake on the traffic
On any other day
I would stand up
And do my exercises
The physiotherapist said that was a good sign
The nerves apparently beginning to feel again
And it is true
All down the length
From shoulder to fingertip
I can hear both pain and communication
As though there are new awakenings
In spontaneous conversation
Yet the words struggle
To pass around the elbow
Formed into a right angle
By the modernist chair
Also, as if to act
As a brake on the traffic
On any other day
I would stand up
And do my exercises
Monday, 28 May 2018
Exhibit A
And so I have to learn
The language of conversation
I have to negotiate
When and how to speak
And how to listen
In a meaningful, mindful way
I complimented you on the breakfast
Though I think you asked me
I tell you of the Tate being on changeover
But you say yes, you have looked already
And anyway it is a long way to St Ives
I ask, then what does the day hold in store
You say that there are lots of things
That you still have to do
And so I learn
The language of conversation
I negotiate
When and how to speak
And how always to listen
In a meaningful, mindful way
The language of conversation
I have to negotiate
When and how to speak
And how to listen
In a meaningful, mindful way
I complimented you on the breakfast
Though I think you asked me
I tell you of the Tate being on changeover
But you say yes, you have looked already
And anyway it is a long way to St Ives
I ask, then what does the day hold in store
You say that there are lots of things
That you still have to do
And so I learn
The language of conversation
I negotiate
When and how to speak
And how always to listen
In a meaningful, mindful way
Sunday, 27 May 2018
Look, Look Out, All Day Long
The vast view
For the long time
The shaking lens
Of joy and fear
The afternoon sleep
And the middle
Of the night writing
The lost for words
And the found
For words
You see
The left arm
Wavers in excitement
As the right brain
Conjures up
Another brush-stroke
For the long time
The shaking lens
Of joy and fear
The afternoon sleep
And the middle
Of the night writing
The lost for words
And the found
For words
You see
The left arm
Wavers in excitement
As the right brain
Conjures up
Another brush-stroke
Saturday, 26 May 2018
Chosen, Not By Chance
The waves slow down
Soften their landing
The afternoon rolls on
Is this the work of the moon
And if I slept
For I can’t say that I did
If I slept
Was that to dream of the moon
If I did sleep
I slept to the sound of the waves
And so indeed
I did sleep to the work of the moon
Yet this was no natural sleep
Not a sleep
Which by chance came upon me
As I sat in my chair
No, this was a purposeful affair
With bed, and duck down duvet
Plumped up Egyptian cotton pillows
And the sounds of Gregorian chanting
Soften their landing
The afternoon rolls on
Is this the work of the moon
And if I slept
For I can’t say that I did
If I slept
Was that to dream of the moon
If I did sleep
I slept to the sound of the waves
And so indeed
I did sleep to the work of the moon
Yet this was no natural sleep
Not a sleep
Which by chance came upon me
As I sat in my chair
No, this was a purposeful affair
With bed, and duck down duvet
Plumped up Egyptian cotton pillows
And the sounds of Gregorian chanting
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