I did not take a black tie

I did not take a black tie
I came to see my mother
Ward 11 said Mary
I left a message, on the mobile

For my brother
I did not take a black tie
I came to see my mother
Ward 11 said Mary
I left a message, on the mobile

For my brother
I did not take a black tie
I came to see my mother
Ward 11 said Mary
I left a message, on the mobile

For my brother
Sugar Diabetes
Broke the best part of my grandfather's life
And my mother’s sister
For ten years she's lived in fear
Of chocolates and cake
And the desire to gorge
The desire to gorge
I did not take a black tie
I came to see my mother
Ward 11 said Mary
I left a message, on the mobile

For my brother

Sugar Diabetes
Broke the best part of my grandfather's life
And my mother’s sister
For ten years she's lived in fear
Of chocolates and cake
And the desire to gorge
The desire to gorge
And here I am at 47
At the end of half a week of visiting

And communicating, and feeling
Yes feeling for the goodness of people

How everyone contributes

And everyone cares
I did not take a black tie
I came to see my mother
Ward 11 said Mary
I left a message, on the mobile

For my brother
Sugar Diabetes
Broke the best part of my grandfather's life
And my mother’s sister
For ten years she's lived in fear
Of chocolates and cake
And the desire to gorge
The desire to gorge
And here I am at 47
At the end of half a week of visiting

Communicating and feeling
Yes feeling for the goodness of people

And how everyone contributes

And everyone cares
Now alone in the Sculpture Park
Beneath the sun and the crows
Thinking about life, about art

And sculpture

And doing things, with care
Tonight we bomb Yugoslavia
Trying our best to care

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Now there is no horizon

The waves roll over and over
Rolling along the curve of the shoreline
Their stereophonic splashes washing over

Washing over
Silently the sodium lights glaze the ripples
Incidentally highlighting the ebb and flow
All the while the buoys and marker lights

Bobble and flicker
All of this through the blown open

Broken bathroom door
This after Yentob on Freud on the radio
Only pretending to understand
Wanting to remember this time
Wanting to describe the space
Describe the feeling
Sodium at the seafront
At midnight, no other sounds
Sea moving, air flowing
And earlier, Hockney saying painting
Painting is the real thing
A photograph could not capture
And you know he is almost right
But behind me is the sink
And down below the window
A solitary moment, a stranger passing
Neither captured by the flashbulb

Nor the paintbrush
Both unable to synthesise all of the view
But with these words
Written down, beside the corroded

Cracked glass single glazed window
With a cream windowsill inside
And outside

Sky blue, mottled, exterior paint
I can see out into the blackness
To describe that; now there is no horizon
Only a two-dimensional black space
A completely starless night sky
How would the painter work
Without depth and perspective
How would the photographer touch
The thousand miles of nothingness
Between here and the next continent
Or remember the background sounds
Beach bound pebbles crashing
Like sacks of marbles
Or the roar
Of the last motorbike
As he serenades
And leaves
The shoreline
Promenade

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Another Invitation

Where are you now
Write to me more often
Where are we now
Softly spoken
Where I am
Fairly often
There you are then
Nothings broken
A writer’s invitation
Simulating tactile sensation
The coffee’s black
In Massarella’s café
The light is bright
Behind the lens
I smile, awhile
In moments of magic
Where are you now
Write to me more often
Where are we now
Excitedly spoken
Knocks on the head
Some say I’m still suffering
Knocks on the head
Woken, spoken with beauty
Where are you know
Write to me more often
Where I am now

Panicking slowly

Concentrate

Imagine a transparent mind
Postulate, bring to life

Disordered thoughts reside
Motivate, drive me madly
Introversion, extrovertly
A birth is more special
Than I can yet contemplate
A life is more special
Than I care to admit
How to release
Unwise ineffectual pressures
But retain, explain
Love’s compassion learning

Where are you now
Write to me more often
Grow me
Slowly
I feel to exude high expectation
Is this received, perceived, untrue
You seem able, stable, of invention
Thoughtful, real, true, you, you…
Supportive or disruptive
Challenging or cajoling
Balanced or biassed
Me or you

Energy flows
The picture grows

The smile returns
Doubts burn away
Where are you now
Speak to me
Speak to me more often
Kick me
Metaphorically
Engage me
Share my excess of sensuality
Draw me in, repeatedly
Tell me
What I should give
How you, how you demand of me
To reach, within you
Command, perhaps
On reflection

The flow should meander
A little
Where are you now
Still with me
With me more often
Being
Distraction
Extracting self from self-satisfaction
Self-sufficiently
So so efficiently unaware
People need people
Communication complements consumption
Interaction is
The second oxygen of life
Where are you now
Will you be
My

One and only

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Graham Or Is It John

Graham or John, where are you from
Your picture is so, so characterful and strong
Your coat was red, yet you never said
You'd been here before, walked out the door
The zephyr blew, the jeans were new
The memory cradle, leaving the stable
A stable boy, a big girl’s toy
Open top sport, not your sort
White cotton shirt, does hurting hurt
Passing on by, tearful lover’s cry
Turning eighteen, it’s about being seen
Crocodile shoes, silver studs your dues
Sail by swan in stature, its essence you capture
No more to aspire, beyond your desire 

Taking everyone’s side, on the Cadillac ride

The girl on your arm, besotted by charm
Pretty pink dress, virginity suppressed
Hair flicked back, listening to Chicken Shack
Painting your picture, writing your scripture
You carry confidence with supreme diffidence
Believing the dream, selling the sheen
Envy engagement, edge endows enragement
The cockerel quietens, the peacock whitens
The cloud of smoke, the oarsman’s silver stroke
Waters wash over the discarded cloak
He walked right in, he couldn't swim
He never spoke, you missed the joke
Nothings real, from our dreams we steal
Joseph's Technicolor Dream-Coat
That’s our conscience, missing the boat

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Frowns of a Clown

Biko; back in the USSR
Biko; Gabriel cries from afar
Lynott is a rocker and a roller
With his friend Moore
Walking the Parisienne Walkways
Sliding steel guitars
Teardrops on the terrace
Springtime is for lovers
Have you been there too
In or out of love
Morning suns keep rising
Cloud clearing skies
Beneath the zephyr breeze
And smiles keep on
The frowns of a clown cannot hide them
Some call it deity
I prefer majesty
In the singular moment
There really only is I
No friends, no family, no colleague
Aristotle: how do you reply
Back then to the early morning
Sunrise and wakening eyes
A day clear of conscience
A day beginning to cry

And crying has led to change
Mandela follows Biko

Peace continues to be sought
Thanks to these men of principle

Man’s mind is not easily bought
Man’s mind is no longer so easily caught
Meditate on that thought
Wish upon a star
Dream the everlasting dream
Jung and Munch are memories
The unconscious mind
The visual scream
Moments only in the greater scheme
Thirty years of passing
Thirty years of thoughts
Packed inside these words
Packed inside this mind
The clarity of vision
The splendid hopes of youth
How best to resurrect
Back in search of truth
Compromise and insincerity
That is the game I've learned to play
Bending rules not breaking
Interrogate without integrity is what they say
So move away from the men in suits
Move away to follow friendship
Believe once more in Aristotle
Let pleasure be here amongst you

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