Tracks

If the summer of love is with us

Why am I disappointed

Is my disappointment

That you were disappointed with the journey

Instead to reach out

To banish the miasma

If the season of vacation is with us

Why do we feed into the struggle

Is my abject poverty

That you were gifted my poverty along the way

Instead to find growth

To implore the connections

If the light of the homeland is with us

Why do we punish the pretenders

Is my black rose only flowered

That your flowers might bloom beside the path

Instead to find being

To identify the poetics of love

available on amazon

Mr Palomar

He looks at the sea

He looks at the sky

He looks at me

One wonders why

Does he read his little book

To find what he’s looking for

Where he sees the stars

I see a suntanned thigh

Where he greets the arc

I walk, long-legged, by

Does he need a calmer cook

To find what he’s looking for

Nothing is uncertain

In the life he leads

I draw the curtain

After planting seeds

Does he know how long it took

To find what he’s looking to impede

available on amazon

Bridge Talk

Might I find a Buddha nature

In the chaos is there calm

Might I grind a simple taster

In the noise perhaps to find a soothing balm

All the winds then to believe

Surging down through the trees

With the bending and the bowing

Is the truth of it a dangerous breed

That the bright light on the fence line

Is a totem from above

Gifted by the grey-going-to-black clouds

On what mirage is that word called love

It never went beyond the superficial

It did not cling to your deep inside

The purpose was the purpose only

To provide escape, to stage the stride

So, just as before or after midnight

With the light of half-offered hope

Step by step, both were taken

To the well, there to carefully elope

available on amazon

Guided Being

Where, why

Would I look for you

Why, where might

I search you out

How

On this night of meditation

Can I seek

To find the doubt

If I look into the books

If I read between the lines

All that love for the writer

Secretly to reveal the signs

That I can hear the seagulls

That I can see the cloud swirls

In the sky, in the sky, in the sky

It is me, I am me, all is fine

What I do is to go on looking

Every day, near or far

Listening out, for the whispers

With the doors so so slight ajar

available on amazon

Ibis Styles

I have booked the hotel

I am taking a two-day break

To prepare this work

For the Arvon poetry-collection course

I did have a doubt

I wondered if my Working Type

Could become a poem novel or a novel poem

I do care for how it reads

Yet without the Arvon motivation

How would 2004 survive

We didn’t survive

So why should a slim volume of poems

To talk of joy

As in that last piece

Seems pretty wide of the mark

Yet, here in the present

With a different room

For me to look forwards to

That always inviting space

Which is YSP

available on amazon