Peaceful Deflection

Crimson in bloom
Right beside the buttercup
A fair distance
From the pampas grass

Or the overhead
Twin propelled
Airships
Aeronautical extravaganzas

A little closer
A good deal closer
With closed petals
And

The touch of silk
Colours
Of the oriental
Sunrise

Escape from
Thistles throttled
Bottled scent worn
On special days

And Saturdays
And always
Worn always
When in love

I sprinkle dry grass
On my cotton
Sweatshirt
To see the grasses

Shadowed patterns
& to see the
Sparkle of the sunlight’s
Rainbows on my spectacles

Smell of fresh grass
Smell of dead grass
Aroma of peaceful
Deflection in sunshine time

Of late afternoons
Later more than mornings

Before the day sets, with the
Dance of the evening primrose

Long thin grasses waive and bend
The heat’s rays it seems defeats them
Thankful for the breeze
With her soft fingers

She tends them
Lends them back a life
She stands them up to be
Once more erect


This poem is from the pamphlet Rainbows On My Spectacles - Love Through a Lens
To see the complete collection click anywhere on this text

Worn Sweat

Into the early morning
Not far in time to sleep
Deep dreams
Horizons and sunsets

Escape or creep back
As if to the Inchcape
There far from the west
Of wayward slumbers

Up and over the brow
Boldly off the Wolds
Off the clay and chalk
Off the sleep time talk

& the bare, fair set
Mazy wanderings

Up and over the treetops
Torn away from the trunk
Ripped off the branch
And the twig and skunk

Of the night time
Cigarette
The scared
Worn sweat

Which bared those unfair
& crazy wanderings


This poem didn't quite make it into the collection Rainbows On My Spectacles - Love Through a Lens
To see what did click anywhere on this text

Onwards sprinkled poppies

In the seventh summer
Slip, I dipped on the
Trip to pink flamingos

Now my seventeenth number
Flip, I’m clipped on the
Strip of fairway gringos

In between the innocence & the heartache
What seems the green grass, the second class
The mother, the child, the both without a father

In their seven rows
Strips of once wild poppies
Nipped in bud, for the county flower show

Now my seventeen insecurities
Drip into my shattered mind
Rainy days; the sipped sour wine of impunity

In between the hazel & the hedgerow
What seems the pasture, swift past rapture
The other, the wild, the both without hope, rather

To be in the seventh seventeenth summer
Somewhere between home & away & eternity
Graveyards & birthplace; endless, timeless journey

Trips to pink flamingos
Stripped bare the fair play gringo’s; swathes
That wave, rave on - onwards sprinkled poppies


This poem didn't quite make it into the collection Rainbows On My Spectacles - Love Through a Lens
To see what did click anywhere on this text

Incest and other conversations

Mottled
Colours through crimson bottles
Glass with past you do wonder

Petticoats on soft skin
Racehorses on close run rails
Fairways these last days of summer

Cared for with loves
Deeper understandings

Shadows only on the raindrops
Or the quenching waters
Blast furnace you do recall

Cold beers; for brow borne beads of sweat
Share incest and other conversation
Cast figures days when daylight fails

Shared with untouched love
& deeper misunderstandings


This poem didn't quite make it into the collection Rainbows On My Spectacles - Love Through a Lens
To see what did click anywhere on this text

Shame of sensation

Green wheat
On the sweetest day of summer

Where Tennyson heard
That Byron was dead
He engraved the news, deep
In the sandstone of long memory

That first day of summer
& the corn was high

Or would be later in the year
For Tennyson, the corn
To disappear, life too dear
Cleared of his father’s reputation

Feared of shame and sensation
An odd kind of situation