To do things right
Isn’t my natural way
To do things well
Isn’t where my concentrations lay
Rather to hop-along
Just about to make do
To take short cuts
Not ever to follow through
Yet still equal to most
I think you’ll find
We all have weakness
However feint the signs
In such a strong line
One’s bound to bow
A little
As one wonders how
The good and the great
Built their lives
Set apart
Such that goodness thrives
As if of the beating heart
One could truly desire
As if in the torrent
Lies the prospect of fire
Friday, 1 June 2018
Thursday, 31 May 2018
The Peace Of Torment
A wild wild wind
And a blue blue sky
A pair of denim jeans
On the washing line to dry
Birds that soar
On thermals in June
And birds in February
Which seem to have more room
A surf that roars
As if to cause wonder for all
Coir matting at my feet
With bets open to call
That I might ever
Make anything much
Yet to think of Kavanagh’s comma
Before the word such
And how some choose to use it
While others skip gladly on by
And which is the real way anyway
And does it really at all matter why
And a blue blue sky
A pair of denim jeans
On the washing line to dry
Birds that soar
On thermals in June
And birds in February
Which seem to have more room
A surf that roars
As if to cause wonder for all
Coir matting at my feet
With bets open to call
That I might ever
Make anything much
Yet to think of Kavanagh’s comma
Before the word such
And how some choose to use it
While others skip gladly on by
And which is the real way anyway
And does it really at all matter why
Wednesday, 30 May 2018
Mathematically Speaking
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
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
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
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