A cup of tea ( will settle it)

a cup of tea

 

I salute the deep swells

of an ocean that rolls

it’s hunger audible, sucking, heaving

a breath, then the rasp of shingle

dragged across the palate

that moment of calm, when

I imagine the stomach is full

satiated

before another lunge below the moon

announces gravity will not wait

and sailors bob on waves

duty bound, flung in a dance

a flamenco of spray and romance

and me

so far in land that this

may or may not be happening

but it matters not

because to me it’s all

a cup of tea

To simper

To simper. pic

 

i change my clothes and summon my shoes

to lead me away into another view

all change except that nothing does

the pavement cracked, still, a million miles away

still oppresses and haunts

cool water blending on golden sand

refuses to lower the mercury on

this scale of pain

so i come back to the soiled outer-wear

and stew

for i can see in the imminence of the view

truth with its implacable head

is resolute

and i must bend, take another route

but stay stock still, naked in this pool

my very own

casserole

Shadows

Shadows. Poem.jpg

Move into the space

of now

Not forward nor back

Just be

surrounded as it should be

reduced by the heat

of this thought

to an essence

of that being that knows

all about shapes

My own competing for bliss

in lines sculpted by the sun

and given an approximate shape

against complicit surfaces

Rumours almost of what is here

in this tenuous moment

when I am gathered in the shallows

waiting for the rumours to end.

hook, line and thinker………..

hook-line-and-thinker-image-for-poem

A fish landed

out of sorts

and complained bitterly

for the lack of salt

and went on to deride the fisherman

for his clumsy boots

the cracked and melting ice

all the noise on the harbour side,

“for goodness sake, couldn’t you just reel me in?

Have some sport? Instead you come

riding the waves and suck me in

to a harvest of woe

and this indignity. To die

in plain sight in front of a man in white

who puts a price on me

and then, cold eyed, moves on

to appraise the rest of us.

If I could I would put a curse on you”

Later, over sweet tea the fisherman

quite satisfied, said to his wife

“it was a fine catch today”

Snap shots

snap-shots

Black lips. Pierced nose. Camouflage

The blank look. A tattoo on one thigh

The tube blandly transports

a tall blond in black tights

a couple with northern accents

and their chubby children

Who all,

rattle on unseen commands. Impervious

to that bow-tie on a scrawny neck

Those men in black jackets and their conformity

who look stark

against

all of it. A thoroughfare of humanity

thinking, blinking, clinking in this concertina

The smell of, the pulse of it all

unstoppable but corked

All of us. Rare breeds

enjoined to wander in pursuit

of some desire

The clock dictates with stern authority

how we should behave

pursue our leisure

and misbehave

because that face is complicit. Scornful

having seen it all

And my friend in Cairo sits

in a cafe below a full moon

not estranged from all of this

Simply surrounded by

sand.

Returning as ever to sender

returning-as-ever-to-sender

Poetry is the sound the soul makes

as it exits your being

Our lives are turned around and around

like whispers in the alphabet

We are the random strokes

of a larger love

that seeks and lingers

and crashes on a distant shore

feeling always for entirety

whilst clinging to the roots

So yes, we are small, yet

we glimpse it all.

Alpha Bet

 

A sign of passing time 

I scrabble for words

To mark significance

Because this day is a gun

That starts one whole New Year

 

Take aim and breathe

Seek the rhythm

That comes with age

Blood pulsating in the sleeve of me

 

Amazed still that newness counts

Out-shining the past

Which comfort and fear

Would like to arrest

 

Step forward and go

Beyond this

And tease out the letters

That form my DNA