Co-ordinates
Co-ordinated
In the one space
Endless silence
Endless conversations
Where are we
Without
Some form of communication
So why not write
To a loved one
Half a lifetime away
For to leave it to the gravestone
Or in the graveyard
That sentiment is way too late
How much sophistication
Or metred regulation
How far the syncopation
Or rather de-strangulation
The high rise of academia
Intellect-flexing perestroika
Simulate the stimulators
Who carry on carrying on
Let it go why don’t you
Leave your angst
In the bonded warehouse
With your certificates & diplomas
Natural light
Real conversations
So go follow the trails
Of being, simply being
What’s the relationship
Between seeded flapjack
And an attractive young woman
What’s the sense
Of building up your hopes
Only to be disappointed
And why on earth
To take the extra shot
In your large Americano
Some folks clear their tables
While others work away
On their Apple laptop
Can you identify
The poem or the poet
Or the international chain
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In such uncertain times
When uncertainty
Rubs us up, and along
Each and every day
It is somewhat odd
That resolution rests
On those very days
When doubt
Was way more prevalent
What then is the relevance
Of almost half a life
In the great scheme
Of self-defence
Or self-deference
Surely the lights simply shine
As and when they want to
Or maybe, yes just maybe
Life really does have patterns
It could easily be
A meditation chair
But today it sits
In a circle of six
At the Wortley Arms
This room, small room
With its old stone walls
And three doorways
Was possibly once
No more than a passage
But nowadays in hospitality
Every square foot counts
Each extra cover
Is another diner
And improvisation is for winners
Outside, in bank holiday sunshine
Families meet up
For some kind of celebration
This place, after all
Is where I spent part of my 21st