• on moving

    in forgotten, half-read booksI find a Paris Metro ticketHunter S. Thompson’s obituaryWith Gerald Scarf’s cartoonA Pompey match reportA blank piece of paper in the chapter devoted to George Herbert’s theological poetryand so many words, paragraphs, chaptersforgotten, over-written, wrongly rememberedstories now irrelevantre-worked by life itselftruth and truismserotica unable to match the real joyof making love with

  • on time

    we’ve a lifetime to learnwhat love actually meansto know happiness~ CLP 13/10/2024

  • at night

    awakethere’s a heart racingin the streetis it fear, or anticipationfuelled by alcoholor the acheof lonelinessup here, I miss yourolling closeran arm wrapped arounda wigglewarmthsleep~ CLP 28/09/2024

  • on numbers

    These are people you talk ofWith flesh ripped from bonesLife’s blood running in guttersThese are homes you surveyNow brick and dustThese their towns and villagesYour rockets reduce to desertFruit left to rot in orchardsOf splintered wood~ n.b. I am not taking sides as if this were a sport. Hundreds have died in Lebanon because of

  • on gratitude

    It feels likeNothing beforeEver happenedBut everythingThat happened beforeMade all thisPossible~ CLP 24/09/2024

  • on Sunday morning

    Night’s fitful retreatDreams pierce our unconscious heartsHow long sleep’s warmth holds~ CLP 22/09/2024

  • on eggshells

    with tension buildingkitchen sink drama explodesomelette of laughter~n.b. We all need a lucky break sometimes. CLP 19/09/2024

  • on Sunday afternoon

    A life-time ago, Brian Eno produced a CD that would make full use of that then novel recorded audio formatHe wrote a single track of ambient music that lasted about 80 minutesAmbient music was his name for music designed, as it were, to fill spaces, it was defiantly not muzakHis music was for big places

  • the cool hand of Gillian Anderson…

    now here it wasin her graspthe real thingsomething that always seemed magical in its formationconjured from imaginationno longer fantasyconcretethe contrast of firm textureto her soft palma delightto get the most from thesefew precious minutesshe conjured up a suitable tantrasettled herselfaccepting time is relativeand pleasure unquantifiableshe tapped itwith her neatly manicured nailssmiled at its confident rigiditythinking

  • on holiday

    delicious prospectof time unconstrained by alarmsof mornings concerned with a different urgencyof late summer’s long shadowswines known only by word of mouthof pillows perfumed by perspirationof laughter and heady sleep~ CLP 06/09/2024