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A Jungle
He saysMy body is a jungleOne morning I wakeAnd a snake bites meThe next, a tigerWhich begs the questionOf body and soulMind and heartSomeone saysListen to your bodyAdmittedly not an easy thingFor a man to doListenThat river running through itBlood or alcohol?That breathAir or wind?CalcificationFossilisationGlacial erosionOf allThat was fluid and firmJungle drumsPounding in my earsWaterfalls →
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Organic Veg Section
We kissedAu revoirNext the organic cucumbersIn Morrison’sWe’ll meet againAt a mutually convenient junctureWhen we mustSurelyMake better useOf our time ~ n.b. Friday night. Bank Holiday weekend in May. Not raining. ~ CLP 24/04/2024 →
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Grateful
Bluebells rang around the groundsDancing in the West WindWhile we sat insideListening in blackTo his grief-bent sonBoth arms locked stiffTight-knuckled at the lecternThat shookHe read as best he couldOf his dad, his friend Who had done his bestWhere demons huntThat broken voiceMatched his heartCaused him to pauseTo catch his breathHis daughter thanked usWho’d come this →
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on time
Gentlemen, we meet againI know the chill of that long wallWhere your names are cut in stoneBeside the Haileybury chapelNinety years from your leavingI repaired the cricket squaresWhere you had playedRolled the pitches where you ranFrom wicket to wicket in your whitesResponding to the call of “Yes”As you had been coachedYou set off promptlyWith all →
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on Ukraine
We are too busyDrones directed from laptopsAlt+Ctrl+Delete ~ n.b. Two years into this war, which was years in the making, is a boon for the drone manufacturers in Iran, the UK and everywhere, eventually it will be about manpower that cannot be re-booted. “For now we are too busy to suffer from traumatic feelings. We →
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Hedges
Days after the blackthorn Is providing some supportFor the spring rebuildof nests I am still stuckwith the job of diggingthe bloody darts from my wristmy chest, my legsare scratched, my face puncturedby the petulant barbsdespite my annual effortsthey will eventually beat medown, make of me a pyre, recycleme into the soil, my limbswill become their →
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on uncertainty
one thing is certainwe’ll never know what’s cominguntil it arrives ~ n.b. Apologies for such an apparently trite post. Just wanting to mark the realisation that we all have to learn how to manage with the the certainty of uncertainty, which is why we have astrology, religions and the gambling industry, I suppose. C’est la →
Journey of Words 