relief as dusk falls
own bed awaits traveller
dreams will transport him
~
CLP 22/02/2023
on irony
Tag Archives: Home
on time
if this is home
what am I doing about it?
home for good or move
~
n.b. Home is not the house, but the location.
CLP 15/10/2022
on time
couldn't leave you nor
take you home, so I left you
standing on pavement
~
n.b. Sometimes Life is too short.
p.s. The bottle was just there this morning, honest!
CLP 27/07/2022
on paper
WANTED: space to live
to whom does this all belong?
who is it decides?
~
n.b. Land and property is the debate we need to have.
CLP 10/06/2022
Aisling of the millpond
unseasonable warmth
petite clouds
white buds pinned to infinite blue
fine grass blades grass by the millpond
prick my pale winter skin
my flat weight crumples daisies
in cool shade
of the willow’s weeping
tumble of the waterwheel
low hum of bumble bees
chiffchaff
chiffchaff
chiffchaff
with eyes closed I see all
the birds I hear
from within this sonorous wall
soft notes
a woman’s song
so tired
so tired
so tired
my head so heavy it cannot turn
my eyelids stuck down by pinks and blues
my arms so heavy they will not move
my legs feel bound they cannot run
my voice clasped tight within my throat
I hear her singing
she sings of lilac
yet to bloom
she sings of lambs
not yet sprung
she sings of hedgerows
nestlings yet to fledge
she sings of the stream
yet to flood
she sings of oak
still to leaf
she sings of the summer
yet to burn
she sings of two lovers
yet to meet
she sings of harvest
we’ve yet to reap
she sings of apples
we’ll collect
she sings of mists
that will rise from dew
she sings of the plough
that will tear the earth
she sings of crows
that will draw in the night
she sings of frost
that will veil the soil
she sings of the fireplace
as autumn leaves
so tired
so tired
so tired
slowly I wake
remembering
how far I must go
before I finally reach
my home
~
n.b. NaPoWriMo 2022 Day Twenty-five prompt: write an aisling.
CLP 25/04/2022
on time
vomitorium
expels people into street
return home to what?
~
CLP 10/02/2022
on home
accumulation
utensils and memories
comfort, food, some dust
~
CLP. 04/12/2021
August viii
crisp sun sharp blue heat
this southern sky long since missed
now untouchable
~
CLP 14/08/2021
Dream #21
heavy rain’s half-time shuffle on the roof
mixes with the jazz ostinato beat
of towering street lamps flicking by
wheels slip over pools along the carriageway
sheets of spray from trucks misting view
red rear lights, pairs of dazzling white
approach, recede
dashboard indicators green
there’s a song replaying on the radio
today becomes yesterday
00:00
as soon as tomorrow becomes now
vehicles stretch apart, further apart, disappear
then this is the last one tracing the road
deep into the city’s orange glow
pointless waiting at crossroads for change
illuminated arrows pointing home
weighed down by the return of gravity
I step through the door
the post on the hall floor
dates how long I’ve been away
a web loose-hanging at the window
holds small black silk bundles
where the spider’s been making hay
~
CLP 18/06/2021
On Water XLI
as safe as houses
riding out life’s peaks and troughs
rowing with the flow
~
CLP 18/05/2021
Journey of Words 