a yard of earth

a yard of earth. pic

 

the buried thoughts lie there

extensions of the temporal world

it’s graven images and dogs bones, forever

begging to rest

 

where amen lies down

for the solitary preacher

wasting eternal penance

and breathing through the soil

remembering, always in remembrance

 

until all the midnight journeys and

changing worlds beyond the next

become sameness,  returned

to a life that is spoken

in chants

Kiki

Kiki

 

I take the dog out for a walk

though for her it’s an exercise

in reading the morning papers, sniffing out the headlines

and finding those hidden meanings

that  make her want to squat

and piss upon what passes for news

 

In the early stages she is simply intent

on the leader articles and local items

waiting until she has emptied her bowels

kicked back at the earth to cover her tracks

and swaggered off while I bag up the mess

before she goes on to the gossip and sport

 

We go on like this around the rugby pitches

and through a latch gate to a narrow path

that acts as a bridal way both of us navigate with different hopes;

hers that she will see a horse, a rabbit or squirrel to chase,

mine, that it will unravel  peacefully until we turn left

onto common ground and the relative safety of the park.

Listening for rain

 

Listening to rain.pic for poem

 

nobody asks that I should write

so I go blind to words, those seedlings

in a field of dreams gone fallow

and my fingers get lazy

as they atrophy around the tools

that let my soul identify pain

 

 this sloth hangs heavy on its threads

raggedly denying the cold

but without a sense of cause

as everything within becomes forlorn

and travel, that feeling of impetus,  is second-class

slow and likely to be misplaced

 

softly drips spill against the glass

like diffident soldiers in a phoney war

knock knocking and asking for a doctor, who

will listen to my complaints

and earnestly look into my eyes and say

next please.