autumn ii

as if I'd forgive
the discomfort inflicted
for your trick of light

~

n.b. British weather: fickle, or what?

CLP 20/10/2021

On Cricket

lost in crazy crowd

found myself wrapt in laughter

caught being happy

~

CLP 16/07/2021

Late June

early evening rain falling heavy on hot soil, tarmac, stone

evaporates fast, forms humid stock, soured by sweat

bubbles up in steaming cumuli that boil over

drive down dust, pollen and temperature

so that tonight we might sleep

unless it doesn’t and the thick soup simply simmers

as we pull covers off, ache for breathe, pull covers on

attempt to seduce sleep with scent

dowse it with floods of dopamine, serotonin and oxytocin

and still we’ll perspire with pulses pounding

hotter, damp, worse than before

praying for a storm to break

a storm that will wake us where we fell

after sleep caught us off guard

as we lay alert to the flight of a curious mosquito

~

CLP 24/06/2021

L3 (Day 49): In Shorts

Seventeen degrees

Out to the broad. Quick cup of tea

Sunshine on me knees.

~

n.b. The warmth held until around 5 p.m. despite a strong breeze. See the striations in the late afternoon sky. A lot of wind for weather forecasters to talk about today: they talk a lot about the wind.

~

CLP 24/02/2021

C3 (Day 42): Lent

Who was it that had

my copy of The Football

Grounds of Great Britain?

~

n.b. I cannot imagine I ever let anyone borrow that from me, but no sign of my copy of the classic text by Simon Inglis and I would never have knowingly given it away. The Football Grounds of Europe is still with me, so maybe this is telling me something about my future?

~

CLP 17/02/2021

On Losing (24)

I realise that

England is a word I use

as much as UK

~

n.b. Nice work Alexander Johnson and your BXT mates – you got to me in the end too and I am part Irish, part Swedish, part Welsh and part English. The United Kingdom is history. I am proud to be a European; embarrassed to be English while The Great Clown is in Downing Street.

CLP 29/12/2020

On Numbers (B117)

Inevitably

Jabs then evidence of such:

Identity cards

~

n.b. A new number to learn. The coronavirus variant ID for the ‘English Virus’ as some might label it, is B117.

Sick Man of Europe, (no longer of EU), will need to be able to verify clean bill of health before being allowed to stand in the street, (or possibly the garden) to stare through the window to watch the party. England: out in the cold.

The Tory government focus on Brexit has blinded government to care of its people. Tens of thousands dead. How does 45% of a vote lead to an 80 seat majority in Westminster?

The “Oven Ready Brexit” of the Great Clown is fast becoming Head in the Oven Brexit.

People who live on islands, need to be able to grow their own food and get on well with their neighbours. Fact.

~

CLP 22/12/2020

On Numbers (43)

Between rain and dusk

Over the hills and back again

Pedalling fury!

~

n.b. Sometimes you just get lucky and the weather breaks fall perfectly. Taking advantage of this, my cycling buddy and I sped around 43 km of Norfolk countryside today in a couple of hours. It was an almost total escape from some of the nonsense found elsewhere in the media, but not quite. I had to share the photo. We chose to avoid this complete dead-end. You may notice that the sign looks like it’s been badly beaten.

Strangely we seemed to speak to more people in passing than we might have done without Lockdown 2. Norfolk is a place where people talk to each other…at a safe distance. Maybe the distancing helps conversation. What do you think? As someone brought up in England I rather find a little physical distancing to my liking. Depends who it is though.

CLP 12/11/2020

On Drizzle

Light diffused through sheets

which gently wrap limbs in cold

that seeps into bones

~

CLP 29/09/2020

Present Tense

This brittle air in sun so low

Glints off flints flash hard

To retain the joy of childhood

As manners evolve in new-formed slow queues

Found on familiar streets

Beside the sign, Stay Home, don’t be SHelfish 

Outside the closed café that specialised in crab sandwiches, 

That added by hand, by night

Lightens this dull conspiracy of compliance

In which all have dressed down

Even priests can go uncollared in isolation

Because we can

Grass verges spout unruly inflorescences and ticking time-bombs of dandelion clocks about to blow

I let the news headlines go

Fuck ‘em! They add nothing to our here and now

Where St George and the Dragon adorn the brick cornice of the shuttered pub

I hear the sea and bees

I fear my own stupidity more than that of others

I long to be able to walk out on the pier

To its very end

.

n.b. http://www.napowrimo.net Day 25 prompt: Almanac prompt.

Christopher Perry

27th April 2020