Coincidental II

The sun is bright

The wind is wild

The wood burner gifts warmth

I think of all of those things

Which I could not think of

When it was dark

When it was cold

When the wind rattled my windows

The book is done

The book is split in two to reduce the burden

The peace is good

The calm is a treasure

Without having to move

I can be moved

My eyes and ears can move me

My mind and its memories can move me

With this movement

All is afloat

The next book is contemplated

That work may also be split in two

The crystal offers rainbows

For which the walls say thank you

The door is closed

The door may be opened

As may the cupboards

In search of last years work

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Coincidental I

I saw a photograph

Of a sculpture by Kan Yusada

Leaning against my wall

I have a poster, from YSP

For an exhibition by Kan Yusada

Somewhere I will have my own photographs

I had to refill my pencil

I spilt the leads

Into my desk drawer

In my impatience

To tell you of the coincidence

Or might I say: happenstance

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One Other Place

I was at a religious conference

At a summer school

(I often go to summer schools in my dreams)

I had made friends with a military man

Who felt that he needed to speak out about

The conflict between the military and religion

An older lady joined us

A cheerful yet devout believer

Who told my friend

That God would make it all ok

And not to worry too too much

The two of them went for lunch

My eldest son joined me

And asked how was I going to entertain him

Because his mum was being such a pain

I only had five pounds in my pocket

And knew that would not satisfy his wants

Triggers

I had watched a film the night before

About Dr. Stephen Hawkins

The credits said he was 72

A couple of days ago my son

Had been to his grandfathers funeral

I am typing up my poems from 2005

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Solitaire

It was instability

The very opposite of being in control

There was guilt

An acknowledgment of wrongdoing

It was emotional

Pains in the tummy

Rattles in the headspace

No one else was present

It wasn’t a shared success

But what if it could have been

What if someone

Could have helped

At that point of vulnerability

Imagine if the tears

Could have been encouraged

To flow without restraint

Then, if with that person

An open conversation

A discussion of and from within

Wouldn’t that equanimity 

Be worth having

More than the velvet sacks of silver

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Absent Without Leave

It is the funeral today

But I won’t be there

Though we did share a joke

Playing bingo that Sunday lunchtime

In the Conservative Club

You teased me

About the thousand pound prize

Which I fell for

Hook line and sinker

As also for your daughter

Yet the words ended

As the separation began

I became persona non grata

Which was understandable 

Given my lack of conviction 

It will be a small affair

All others, or most

Having already passed

Their bowls and blazers

To the cloakroom attendant

Your family will be there

At least your child and her children

Who carried your burden

Only to end up

Spilling over with tears

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