BBB Poem 28

It is still a summer breeze
Even after our Channel Islands vacation
There are still leaves on the trees
Even after I surveyed the state
Of that small station

The pampas grass commands the views
Its circumference doubled
Thanks to sun and rain
I am listening to Nils Frahm
His album titled Screws

In my gentle meditation
I am thankful for the pain
The little yellow wheelbarrow
Does not know where to sit
The jet fighters manoeuvres

They rock the ground and the sky
Captain Corelli’s Mandolin
Those houses that took a hit
The world's ammunition factories
O why, o why, o why

It is still a summer breeze
Beneath the mid-August daydream
There are apples, there are peaches to seize
There are thoughts, of love
Love on which to scheme

There are masses of blackberries
Although some still a youthful red
The garden eases, teases out my worries
Lets me write those missing words
Those words which I never ever said

The grass seeds, which I planted backalong
Have covered the bare and damaged ground
The thymes, the reed grass
All are coming on strong
The pianist, and the bass player, gift their song

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BBB Poem 27

In this time
In this time of physical pain
In this time of physical pain
And mentally prepared dullness

The union flag waves
The union flag waves as the sunlight streams
The union flag waves
As the sunlight streams through windows

The blue sky
The blue sky with nary a cloud
The blue sky with nary a cloud
To cover the Lincolnshire Wolds

In this time
In this time of cushions on settees
In this time of cushions on settees
And a pot of tea on the table

The room is still
The room is still and once was quiet
The room is still and once was quiet
Quiet, and impeccably peaceful

The house
The house comes to life
The house comes to life
With the first sounds of the day

In this time
In this time of dew on the grass
In this time of dew on the grass
And birdsong in the garden

The writer writes
The writer writes to ease his pain
The writer writes to ease his pain
And thus begins his own mourning

The commentator looks on
The commentator looks on to the shadows cast
The commentator looks on to the shadows cast
And towards the long thoughts lost

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BBB Poem 26

I thought I could not explain
But now I think I can
Yes, now I think I can
I went there in search of the duende
For I had found the duende there
Once upon a time before

The bookshop is no longer there
The restaurant is no longer there
The beach hotel is no longer there
It is damned hard to search for the duende
When one searches alone
When one searches alone

The bedroom is no longer there
The bathroom is no longer there
The lover is no longer there
It is so so difficult to search for the duende
When one searches alone
When one searches alone

The imagery is no longer there
The feeling is no longer there
The transference is no longer there
It is surely impossible to search for the duende
When one searches alone
When one searches alone

I thought I could explain
But now I think I cannot
Yes, now I think I cannot
I went there in search of the duende
For I had found the duende there
Once upon a time before

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BBB Poem 25

I'm through with looking for you
So now I am leaving
I'm through with looking for you
From now on I am disbelieving
I'm through with looking for you
No more is this old man grieving

I went to the Battle of Flowers
Watched floats go this way and that
The parishes had gathered their powers
To put on their extravagant top hat
Everyone was supposed to be there
But I saw no sign of you, no sign of you

I'm through with looking for you
So now I am leaving
I'm through with looking for you
From now on I am disbelieving
I'm through with looking for you
No more is this old man grieving

I took so so many photographs
I even videoed the larger players
So so many people joining in
To make the day a festive affair
Everyone was supposed to be there
But I saw no sign of you, no sign of you

I'm through with looking for you
So now I am leaving
I'm through with looking for you
From now on I am disbelieving
I'm through with looking for you
No more is this old man grieving

Later, in the editing suite
I searched for you once again
All through those half-smile glances
Which failed to raise my disdain
Everyone was supposed to be there
But I saw no sign of you, no sign of you

I'm through with looking for you
So now I am leaving
I'm through with looking for you
From now on I am disbelieving
I'm through with looking for you
No more is this old man grieving

I won't be back next year
Unless of course things change
I will stop my self-berating
And move on down the range
Everyone was supposed to be there
But I saw no sign of you, no sign of you

I'm through with looking for you
So now I am leaving
I'm through with looking for you
From now on I am disbelieving
I'm through with looking for you
No more is this old man grieving

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BBB Poem 24

So, for two days we have had rain
And for eight days, we have had sun
Even today, on one of the rain days
The day began with sunshine and blue sky

One could become dispirited
By the overflowing gutters
By the mist enveloping the bay
One could, but simply by the law of averages

One can be certain that the sun will return
That the spirits will be lifted
By the clearer skies, by the lapping
Of the azure sea, onto the silver sunlit sands

Is this what Beckett was aiming at
With Godot; that to wait is the life
To wait, and to observe, no more to it than that
No need for despondency, nor for hope

Of course if the rain has set itself in
Which by now it seems to have done
Then, I agree, one may well struggle
To visualise any emerging light

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