The concrete and the clay
Beneath my feet begin to crumble
As I stumbled upon a few home truths
The blank page is a blank day
What better way to start anew
When the view is solely of your own making
Step out into the flat ounce of fresh inspiration
With a smile, with a way deeper breath
Recognise that death is only for the dying
Fix your ills, shape your mind, and body
Take time to be anybody, in this world
Where your soul may swirl, dip as the swallow
Sunday 7 January 2018
Saturday 6 January 2018
BBB Poem 56
The real day zero
There is nothing that I haven't written
Nothing that I have left unsaid
In this place of the last lines
Where the departure words are read
Long coats, smart blazers, and medals
Car parks, and overflow car parks
Roads laid out in the geometric style
For the cortège and the heralds
Say goodbye, and drive away, or fly
Off to the new life; beyond, yes beyond
The flags, and the platoons, the leader
Of the band in his striped tie
A military man, an Air Force man
All grey, and crimson, and royal blue
Laughter, and bonhomie, and o what's new
This is the real day zero, and for today we stand
There is nothing that I haven't written
Nothing that I have left unsaid
In this place of the last lines
Where the departure words are read
Long coats, smart blazers, and medals
Car parks, and overflow car parks
Roads laid out in the geometric style
For the cortège and the heralds
Say goodbye, and drive away, or fly
Off to the new life; beyond, yes beyond
The flags, and the platoons, the leader
Of the band in his striped tie
A military man, an Air Force man
All grey, and crimson, and royal blue
Laughter, and bonhomie, and o what's new
This is the real day zero, and for today we stand
Friday 5 January 2018
BBB Poem 55
Mushroom, and tarragon soup
Christopher what's come over you
Is it the Suffolk sea air
That is getting near to your inner truth
On the pier at Southwold
Above the waving waves
That travel from the Nuclear power station
To way beyond the newly built sea defences
All pretence of summer is indefensible
Under the grey-black, black-grey skies
All thoughts of English holidays reprehensible
For teenagers who share their lover’s cries
Christopher what's come over you
Is it the Suffolk sea air
That is getting near to your inner truth
On the pier at Southwold
Above the waving waves
That travel from the Nuclear power station
To way beyond the newly built sea defences
All pretence of summer is indefensible
Under the grey-black, black-grey skies
All thoughts of English holidays reprehensible
For teenagers who share their lover’s cries
Thursday 4 January 2018
BBB Poem 54
Beside the seaside
Throwing pebbles off the beach
A perfect sea
Or at least so I am told
By an oldish lady
Throwing pebbles at a tin can
The quiet then snapped
By the seventh wave landing
With a reasonably ubiquitous crash
Beside the seaside
Squashing pebbles into our bottoms
A vast sea
Or at least I do believe so
With a one hundred and sixty
Degree horizon
The delineation marked
By the last green line of darkness
And the first sky blue of sky
Throwing pebbles off the beach
A perfect sea
Or at least so I am told
By an oldish lady
Throwing pebbles at a tin can
The quiet then snapped
By the seventh wave landing
With a reasonably ubiquitous crash
Beside the seaside
Squashing pebbles into our bottoms
A vast sea
Or at least I do believe so
With a one hundred and sixty
Degree horizon
The delineation marked
By the last green line of darkness
And the first sky blue of sky
 |
| Available at Amazon |
Wednesday 3 January 2018
BBB Poem 53
September in the sunshine
Breakfast in the bay
A pavement cafe actually
Beside a crying child's affray
Why not add a rack of sourdough toast
Why not make the most
Of what the day has to offer
Of what the mind might proffer
Breakfast in the bay
A pavement cafe actually
Beside a crying child's affray
Why not add a rack of sourdough toast
Why not make the most
Of what the day has to offer
Of what the mind might proffer
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)