Time,
the Magician
by Lea Knowles
Preface
The title
for this volume is taken from a song by Clifford T. Ward. The passage of Time
creates its own effects on relationships and on how we perceive the world,
sometimes beneficial but at other times,
if not ruinous or obfuscatory, then mysterious and contemplative. The poems in
this collection attempt to explore these ideas and range from the angst of
early adulthood to the tragi-comic, to sheer awe and wonder, and the absurd.
Contents
Page
A
Timeless Wandering 6
Born of Fire 10
Time 10
Rocks 10
Old Road 10
Day Trip 10
Dutch Masters 11
Sense of Place 11
Suspended Animation 12
Passing Moment 12
Footprints 12
Old Stone
13
Archaeology 13
Archaeology 13
Plague Pit 13
Stravaiging 14
Yesterday’s Wine 14
A Drowning 14
Longing
15
Pop Star 15
Mirror in the Hall 16
Lost Horizons 17
Don’t Fear the Wind 17
Visions 18
Lovers and Heroes 18
Visions 18
Wasteland 18
Moonlight 19
Shades of Night 19
Where Dreams End 19
Stone 20
Solid Rock 20
Shoots 20
Prehistory 20
To You, Veiled Lady 21
Coprolite 21
Lindow Man 21
Constructive Margins 22
Aftershock 22
The Vase 23
The Prison 23
I Shall Not Paint Your Walls 23
The Way It Used To Be 24
For Dreams to Come True 24
Spring into Summer 25
Reflection 26
Echo of Forgotten Laughter 26
Samurai Soul 26
Best Friend 27
Airless 27
Dereliction of Duty 28
Reflections in the Sky 29
The Day Our Forest Died 29
Nostalgia 30
Dreamtime People 30
New Worlds for Old 31
Concert Square 31
The Sky at Night 32
Perch Rock 32
Thoughts 33
Vinyl Beach 33
Palmyra 33
Moon upon the Ocean 34
Worn Jacket 34
Mud 34
Woodspirits 35
Old Railway Station 35
Partners in Time 35
Hallowe’en 36
New Year’s Day 36
Dreams 37
Watercolours 37
Clocks 37
A Child’s Map 38
To the Young Boy 39
To the Old Lady at Number 23 39
Camarazzi 39
Hiroshima 40
At the Drive-in 40
Forecasting 40
Writing My Book 41
Dylan 41
Maintaining the Status Quo 42
Old Dog 44
Spring 45
Getting Old 45
Write On! 45
Guardian 45
Pushing the Limits 45
D – Day 46
Painter of Dreams 47
Trace Fossil 47
Arran Isle 48
Seascape 48
Going Forward 48
Sandcastle 49
Cottage by the Sea 49
Warriors 50
Lonely Planet 50
It was all so Silent 50
Future Planning 51
A Final Summer 51
The Voice 51
World Without End 52
History 52
Immortality 53
Seconds 53
Sculpting the Past 53
A Timeless Wandering
clack of the oak door
the weight and closure of it
the smell of ancient stone
sat by the wayside
visited by none
but me
this ancient path
on this ancient track
pacing my slow way down
to another realm
light summer rain
the garden a calm
sea in
many shades of green
on its way to the sea
the river has a life of its own
history washed away
after days of rain
over England’s
flooded fields
the glorious sun
soaking in the bath
cold winds may prowl and growl but
I’m soaking in my bath
senses bursting
in this place at
this time
am I really here?
drifting iceberg
at the mercy of the sea
melting all the while
riding through the
woods
clean air sharp in
my lungs
the puddles frozen
still moon gazing
shredded clouds offer respite
to my aching neck
crab emerging
from the fury of
the tide
is the world still
here?
sandstone altar
on which lies crucified a
lingering glow of desert sun
on the sandy beach
footprints waiting
for the tide
past joys soon
erased
as I grow older
the length of the daylight
seems to matter more
these ordered
mountains
carved by the hand
of gravity
and extremes of
time
fluted birdsong pipes
and shrills in the woods once more
the warm joy of spring
rough wind and
rain
blast the cherry
blossom
a pink carpet
falls
midnight cats mauling
another day belonging
to the past
fig tree struggling
to bear your fruit
this
cool cool summer
distant island
lit by the lamp of the moon
where I want to be
turning the rich
earth
seagulls follow
the plough
noisily
waiting at the roadside
sweetcorn roasting in the shade
smoke filling my eyes
sudden downpour
garden spade
abandoned by
the robin and me
though she sneezes
I cannot bear to wipe away
the droplet on my cheek
free to roam the
skies
open horizons crossed
in
the blink of an eye
tramping muddy fields
‘say hello to the scarecrow’
calls my dad
lying beside you
two cupped spoons
blissing out
this stormy night
the waterfront
not seen like this by my father –
ten years ago now
in wet sand
scraping names
but a wave
disapproves
of the handwriting
deep in the woods
the toothless wooden bridge which
only the wild boys crossed
ancient ghosts
castle walls roar
their warning
rain shrouds the
mountains
the first rains
a gecko is evicted
from my boot
fish in the
branches
reflections of ‘46
when a new leaf
formed
a funeral pyre
smoke curling back to the sea
Shelley laid to rest
doleful eyes
fatherless family
fresh-cut
baskets of flowers
unsold
zeppelins of rain
drown us into submission
summer cloudbursts
talking of the
past
memories of a
brooch you wore
so long ago
tiny ammonite
sensitive time-keeper
coiled in my palm
carriages
uncoupled
long wait for the
train to leave
though the power
is still on
hazardous waste
dumped in a pit
below the hillside a spring
waiting by the
shop door
my air trapped
in a poisoned
swirl of smoke
made it to the tree
faint hissing of drizzle
like distant applause
hard to stir
myself
out into a sodden
world
this duvet of grey
cloud
my old wooden fence
where generations of woodlice
are feeding still
faint applause
ripples across the
grass
watching the
cricket
the smack of a ball
a ripple of applause, ah!
the smell of new-mown grass
gunman shooting
flowers
no time for
goodbyes
forgiveness or
revenge
solitary blue macaw
shrieking guilt from the tree-tops
with his dying breath
I could not go on
feeling suddenly so
old
the mountains so still
mountain singing
same note for ten thousand years –
eternal rock song
TIME THE MAGICIAN
Born of fire and tumult
Petrified secrets locked away
With shavings of understanding
Released by the quarrying of mysteries.
No-one saw
The hardening of pre-Cambrian time
Or the birth of the rainbow serpent.
No-one witnessed
The dance of the spirits of dawn
Fashioned from our basic instincts
Moulding our comprehension,
Into the patterns of our being,
Our destiny to be human. 2010
TIME
When I want them to fly
The minutes stick like glue
Roll into parcels of hours,
Languishing in bundles of days and months.
Time - at once a
needle point,
A conveyor,
An elastic band stretched
To suit our chemistry:
Pretty ribbon in a girl’s hair,
The lines in your face
Stealing your youthful colour,
The noose around a neck
slowly strangling. 2009
ROCKS
These rocks hum
To your tapping sticks
Your droning deep vibration
Caught in a trap of time
That demands your soul. 2000
New road crosses the old road
At a pace - no slowing
To respect its sedulous path
Its directness, its knowledge, its torment,
Its lie in the scheme of route and place
Of pilgrim streams
Of warriors, saints and sinners –
Of our island race. 2010
DAY TRIP
I had studied the
route -
Best scenery
Quickest time
Squeezing the
last degrees of latitude
Out of the season
Stretching
longitude – no crime
To fill the hours
with come what may.
With the dark and
with regret
We turned
homewards
To the what and
why of another ordinary day. 1976
DUTCH MASTERS
Were you lying,
With your neat brick courtyards
Your wood-panelled, stained glass opulence
Your community revelry
Among the frozen ponds and summer fayres?
From my window, an anywhere-land of cement walls
Dark and mirrored halls
Reflecting each other,
Squeezing out the common people,
Pylons squeezing out the sky.
The cold open bleakness I had brought in my head
Has vanished amongst these trim and manicured streets
That know no horizon -
I sense I am somewhere else. 2011
SENSE OF PLACE
Has human form
Ever knelt within this space,
Felt its rounding year complete,
Along a path begun with sun upon its face
A hundred million years beneath the feet. 2013
SUSPENDED
ANIMATION
Suspended on a beam
Hanging over the abyss
Moving from the point of balance
Looking for hand-holds and finding none
So the slide into oblivion begins -
Too far from the silver chain of salvation
Slipping inexorably into the chasm
Of our eternal damnation. 2007
PASSING MOMENT
They came here often in their lovers’ days
Climbed the floral mountain paths
Up to the lake that touched the sky.
Stretched in cool grass
Bare feet entwined, reconnected,
They left their mark etched in stone
To possess the moment
To remind each other
And the passing clouds
They had been. 2009
FOOTPRINTS
Our footprints
make a track
Across the snow -
For some a reassurance
Of the right way to go. 2011
OLD STONE
This once vaulted creation
Blasted by time and death
And the pride of kings -
Former conspirators - invisible
In their destruction
Joined by the hand of nature
To reduce, to witness chaos
The erosion of names and faces
Until now, their antiquity preserved. 2009
ARCHAEOLOGY
The distillation of time, condensed;
The peeling back of years
To get closer to the past
To greet ourselves
Through the narrowest window.
Scraping, digging around
Exhuming details from shards and carvings
To find DNA common with
The medieval mind.
Even whisperings in the breeze
Of pre-historic dawn
Show us as we once were
Together in tune – the response of the tribe. 2013
Beneath the London of tomorrow
They discovered your grave,
Your bones brought to light
Far from your pitiful death
Now a source of tragic
Brief wonderment.
Echoes from the vaults of time
Yet may cry once more
‘Bring out your dead’. 2012
We take our bearings from the past
Project them through the lens of the present
Reshaping, refocusing
Giving new form to thought
Configuring ourselves to ourselves,
To our place in the scheme of things
Until our way forward or back is clear. 2013
YESTERDAY’S WINE
When will I no longer feel
Or see or smell
The emptiness of our room? - gone
The peachy pink drapes
That once concealed our love
And shut out dark thoughts that
Now hang like skeins of wire,
The fruity glow of sunlight
Dappling the evening walls.
The taste of yesterday’s wine rots sickly and
The birds of summer flown. 2004
A DROWNING
I ignored past warning signs
Along the crumbling ledge
I led her on wordless.
She slipped and was gone,
Only a cry before she sank.
In my empty inner blackness
I searched forgiveness.
But bad seed had become a bed of thorns
And I must endure their barren failure.
In the current that swept her
I still listen though
Turgid waters conspire to say - nothing.
My hope – her spirit may be near,
Untouchable on some cold and rocky shelf
And things unsaid, mishandled
Can be reset and
That time is not done with us yet
In the land of miracles. 2009
LONGING
So often have
they died
Beautiful and
innocent, yearning to be kissed
Ready to open
like a flower
And shine on the
world.
Longings lie
stillborn
Filled with not a
single night of pleasure
Never to know the
exquisite warmth
Of a new and
radiant morning.
It is of some
comfort to know
Though blown by
different winds
We have known each
another.
A month passes and
holds another month by the hand
Promising change
but there is no change.
Time falls into
the same rut
And longings pass
that have passed this way before
And will again. 2007
POP STAR
Jetsam on fortune’s tidal shore,
Latest shiny pebble on the beach -
A glitter in the sunlight, nothing more;
Perhaps a grain of sand blown
Towards an isle just out of reach
A loose dune of new tunes with old words;
Or the root of a tree to offer fresh fruit
To flocking birds
With an instinct for creation
That swells and swirls
A rising wave whose crest will furl
Casting expectation into the surf
And break upon the shores of the world.
1995
A mirror hangs
upon my wall
The good, the
bad, the old, the young
The mirror’s
seen them all
Reflecting
their anxieties -
Odd grey hairs
to ‘wannabies’
The coalman
and the rent man
My mirror’s
witnessed all.
Children
pulling funny faces,
Sucking in
their cheeks,
Mam checks out
her wrinkles
For the umpteenth
time this week.
Dad has got a
rash he thinks
The mirror
makes it less and winks
They stand
together gurning -
A pair of silver
freaks.
There’ve been haughty
types and naughty types
While some
can’t type at all;
Sister’s
fallen in love again
And wants to
marry Paul.
He’s checking
that his tie is straight
‘Dad will see
you soon, please wait’
Paul wishes he
wasn’t overweight
And not just
five feet tall.
Reflected
glances, fancied chances,
Got to get it
right!
The mirror
plays its good luck charm
And wishes
them goodnight.
Dancing till
the late night bus
Now engaged but
- Lord help us
He’s got to
get her home, no fuss,
Before the
morning light.
Saw the lovers
quietly part
And steal a
secret kiss,
Spotted that
delivery boy
When mam’s
purse went amiss,
Watched
Grandad pin his medals on
Wondering
where his youth had gone
Feeling time was
pushing him on
Towards that
great abyss.
Mirror on the
wall though silent
Gives a secret
smile
Watching as
the hats and frocks
Sweep in and
out of style
But human
nature stays the same -
Just one more glance
in the glass again
The wicked
queen has toiled in vain
But the mirror
makes her smile;
For today the
mirror’s happier
Than it’s ever
been
Sleeping
Beauty’s blooming
And dethroned
the wicked queen
The mirror
sees there’s no disguise
Her cherished
lips that bear no lies
And she has
just the prettiest eyes
The mirror’s
ever seen.
But now a lighter
patch on the wall
Where the
mirror hung
Nowt to pull
funny faces in
Or for
examining your tongue
‘Cause now the
mirror’s had its day
Dusted down
and packed away
Ready for sale
on Ebay –
New faces to
shine among. 2009
LOST HORIZONS
Thoughts - more fragile than waves
Surging over a stony beach
Denied the chance to breathe
For genius to be born
For wonder and awe
For shock and horror,
Shattered by a twist of fate
Vague in the memory, filed under ‘Lost Horizons’. 2007
DON’T FEAR THE WIND
Though it blow us off course
We should not fear the wind.
To tack, regain position and continue
A time to discover what is new in us
What may have been encaged,
Or perhaps to shrink from our own truths.
I have steered to this precise horizon
And must decide to
Let it take me, or desist.
What is struggle for
But to discover who we really are?
Go with the flow or resist but don’t fear the wind. 1999
VISIONS
Visions like crystals
Catching oddly-angled light
Gain perspective on what is to be.
Time is consolation for my errors
A fertile soil in which to replant
And tend through stormy weather
A new rose to send up shoots forever. 1973
LOVERS AND HEROES
A snatch of conversation
The mention of your name
Unlocked a combination
And so re-lit your flame.
Real or imaginary
A new-born vision flowed,
Cast its colours to the sky
And like a rainbow glowed.
But then the twilight thickened,
The mist began to climb
and wrap once more its fingers
round the brittle ash of time. 1973
WASTELAND
Is there is a wasteland near you
Where events and neglect have left their scars,
Where nothing of value seems to grow?
Clinging vines choke pallid weeds
And shrinking violets in broken cellars
Die for want of light,
An underworld rank and forgotten
Crumbled bedrock smothered by lichen
That saps to survive.
To this place comes tomorrow’s world
Tossing the coin - awaiting its fall
Down the dark crack of oblivion,
Or feeling raised, polished and valued
Spinning and shining like a star. 1984
MOONLIGHT
Moonlight casts no shadow
Across the bleak white plain.
The glass lake reflects the peaks
As it always has.
A soundless flashing star sails
Into the shadowlands of tomorrow
Above this night’s mountains of fear,
Plains of despair, indifferent as the moon.
1995
SHADES OF NIGHT
Night - when
the wild and desperate
Wander wet
deserted canyons
Combing through
dens of blackness
To creep and
prey on small creatures.
A late crowd shrinks
away
From those who
by day
Carry anvils
on their backs
And by night
cower in doorways,
Giving form to
the dread
Of their own
dereliction
As they melt
away, escape
Into the
vastness of suburban night.
The bereft
left to ponder the grim endeavour that
Is but one
more sentence in their tragedy. 1970
WHEN DREAMS END
At the end of my sleep a vacuum of hope
As I wake into blackness struggle to cope -
No logic or reason; my path fades away
I’m lost, empty, nothing to say.
Where stops the wheel? Who tolls the bell?
Am I destined for heaven, and is this my hell?
Then fragments of past drift over my eyes
Memories that last and live on in the skies
So play the old songs, recall the old lines
Forget all the wrongs - just savour old wines
The bouquet of memory to comfort and mend
Respite from the present and pain we can’t end. 1977
STONE
In misty
sunrise ancient grasses
Rooted in
stone whisper
A message to
the highlands
From the
centre of the Earth. 1970
SOLID ROCK
Streaked and flecked
Moulded and cleft,
A garden of hidden stories,
Crumpled and buried in chasms of Time,
Features on the face of shifting masses,
Nameless places on invisible maps
Where rivers flowed in veins of gold
And primeval life still in the raw.
But even rocks will melt and decay
To continue their story another day. 1992
SHOOTS
I gaze at all the shoots
Springing from the forest floor
Stepping carefully
Allowing them to live
To strengthen their roots,
Feeling the need to ensure
The seeds survive -
But they don’t need me. 1996
PREHISTORY
God knows how
long ago
Before breath
was ever taken
Before he ever
dreamed of Man
Silurian mud
settled and oozed
Around crinoid
stem and graptolite
Locked and
carried in firm embrace
Through
upheaval and trauma of orogeny
Until this
insignificant day
On the slab
you cleaved perfectly
The first
light to fall
In three
hundred million years. 2004
TO YOU VEILED LADY
To you veiled lady
From a thousand directions
Our greatest songs we bring
To be plucked from your lyre string
That we may listen along
To the notes of a tune
As with the air you commune
The faintest sound unfurled
To lie forever with the nations of the world. 2001
COPROLITE
Scarcely could
I contain my delight
At having
found a coprolite;
No fossil
shell nor claw of bird -
But a rounded
pebble - a piece of turd
For this humble
sphere with the look of grit
Was once a
lump of dinoshit! 1982
LINDOW MAN
In swirling
mist at the edge of dawn
A mournful
call from a lonely horn
Calls across
the beckoning marsh.
Reed folk
appear with rope and spear
And drag a man
to the rim of death
To appease a
god with a dying breath;
Or on one whose
flame is all but out vengeance wrought
Blood rush to
the eyes with sinews taut.
The corpse of a
man no-one could save
Left to sink
into his marshy grave.
Reed folk reel
from the edge of hell and clay
That concealed
the deed they shared that day.
Lost in the
folds and pressures of time
Their gods as forgotten
as the crime
Until beneath
a Cheshire field
The light of a
thousand summers revealed
A corpse,
deformed, alone in death
Recalled to
life with a dying breath. 1972
CONSTRUCTIVE
MARGINS
Constructive margins spread the sea floor
Awesome cascades that erupt no more
Myriad veins inside your head
Once ran with gold now turned to lead
Doused In cold magmatic soup
That seals the cracks that fills the stoup.
The mountains all around you glow
Though from their cooling ashes grow
Upland pastures out of reach
You find you’re slipping off the beach -
No more instinct to devote your time
To forge new paths to make the climb -
These mountains you know - just piles of shit
And in your heart you know, it’s time to quit. 2002
AFTERSHOCK
Please God I
won’t find you
Lying with
crazy limbs
Beneath the
rubble;
I stretch
every muscle
Strain every
sinew
Dreading to
find
The stain of
blood
The crush of bone
As I call your
names……… and listen.
Only the mirthless
gurgling from a pipe,
The shifting
brick and settling dust,
The moaning
from the trees.
All the birds
have gone.
Two days have
I lifted and dragged apart
Our shattered
life
Listened for
the faintest sign
And for two
days more and two days more
I will listen
for you
Trapped
somewhere but
Known to God
Who surely
must be with you
My wife,
My child,
We cannot end
like this. Easter
2004
THE VASE
So many
colours
Applied in
swirls and ripples -
Work of
imperfect hands, you’d say.
But the work
of many life-times
Now lies in
shards
And lost the
craft to recast
Such a vessel worthy
of
Displaying
tomorrow’s flowers. 1974
MY PRISON
In dim rooms I
have lived out empty days
Stifled by the
airless weight of time
A small
solitary window lies just beyond reach -
An effort to haul
myself up
For a brief
glimpse of the world beyond.
I could prise it
open,
Flood the room
with light
Make my
escape;
But this light
may prove another false dawn,
New tyrannies
reveal. 1972
I SHALL NOT PAINT YOUR WALLS
I shall not
paint your walls again
Nor pictures of
your heroes clear away;
The wood-stained
rings of tea-cups will remain
On the desk
top where your thoughts ran free.
The frame
where we etched your height
Year on year
will stay and we’ll recall
Through
softened veils, your changing moods and ways,
Your face,
your voice,
Your laugh,
your shining hair.
From your
window I shall gaze where you gazed,
Where you
swung and played your mud-house games
The muddy
patch where you scored your goals.
No, I shall
not paint your walls again
Until you come
back home. 1989
THE WAY IT USED TO BE
They were
talking
About the way
it used to be,
When walls
were white,
Red steps
shone their pride
And windows
reflected the sky.
There was no
hole then, no doubts,
Slates in
place - tablets of stone.
Garden fruit
never tasted as sweet, they said,
As when our rain
clouds sprinkled them with life
And birds
could sing their own song.
Today my house
echoes to
Lofty ceilings
and spacious halls;
Dark corners
entice the sunbeams
And swallow
them.
But nobody
really lives here anymore -
Merely
occupies its spaces -
And time has
no purpose. 1990
FOR DREAMS TO COME TRUE
With your
fingers
Make a circle
in the sky -
The most
perfect O you can make.
Place inside
the full moon
Close your
eyes and lift your perfect O
To your
perfect mouth and
Kiss the moon
gently.
Placing it on
your tongue and
Close your
lips around it –
Breathe in the
mellow taste
Of moondust.
Now swallow
and believe deep inside
That all your
dreams at this moment
Have come true
–
You have all
you’ve ever longed for.
Now, open your
eyes and look up –
Like magic the
moon has reappeared
To gather new
dreams -
In case you
change your mind.
2009
SPRING INTO SUMMER
It’s mid
bloody April
And it saddens
me to say
I’m not at all
content
With what the
weather’s brought today.
We’ve had a
mild winter
Temperatures unseasonably
high
The sort of
warmth we might expect
In an average
July.
Now the Spring’s
upon us
We want to
feel the sun
Daffodils and
Forget-me-nots,
Easter eggs
and fun.
But dark
clouds roll across the sky
Bring lashing
sleet and rain
And spring
flowers in the garden cry
‘Sodding
Autumn’s come again!’
*
Now it’s near
the end of August
The nation’s
feeling glum
In fact we’re
feeling cheated
‘cause the
summer hasn’t come
We’ve had to
fork out loads of cash
For umbrellas,
macks and wellies
Or forget
going out at all
Just sit in
front of tellies.
With autumn
nearly on us
We want to
feel the sun
Before the
leaves start falling
And summer
days are done.
But dark
clouds roll the sky again
Day on day I
fear
Our final
hopes dashed by rain
And probably the
same next year. 2012
REFLECTION
I can almost feel this clogging of memory
This stiffening of joint and opinion
The clouding of vision, fading music and voices
The bleeding of hopes and desires
The spreading cancers of fear and dismay;
Better by far this overwhelming and consoling love
For the treasures of my heart.
No anger at the world but rage at myself -
Having done no better than acquiesce in its ruin.
And yet, my children, have I brought you
Unto this beautiful place that
Pleads for help to save body and soul
For those you will love who are yet to come. 2007
ECHO OF FORGOTTEN
LAUGHTER
The past, a monochrome vision -
I forget that colours belonged to your world too,
But here you are
Caught in a moment by the frozen wave
Sand trickling through your fingers.
I lay your picture down
As if its sepia might rub off on me
And somehow draw me into your world.
But still, your happy treasured day
Draws me in to listen for the
Echo of your forgotten laughter. 2010
SAMURAI SOUL
Where now resides the Samurai soul
Warrior spirit,
Ferocious guardian of loyalty
Service and self-sacrifice,
Last citadel of a lost breed
Escaped into the earth
Beneath mountains or
Into the air
Awaiting resurrection. 2010
BEST FRIEND
He had an edge
A promise of adventure
Possibility of danger;
For me, a probability of guilt and regret
Balancing on the kerbstone of the law.
In his world of mad dogs and airguns, knives and
catapults.
He offered me a turn at shooting birds;
Glad that every shot I missed
Fed the crowing fire of his splendour
Allowing me to breathe more easily.
That summer we camped in the woods
Clambered onto slates and broke into damp ruins,
Levered the points on the iron ore line,
Lit gorse fires and ran,
My heart forever pounding
As I threw the box of matches
And manufactured my excuses.
Then September,
Another term of feigning not to care,
Snubbing my prospects.
But that morning, that joyous morning
When I waved and he turned away
I never asked why.
The high swinging tyre was taken from around me,
The weapon lifted from my grateful hands;
I refound myself disarmed
With a lightness of being
And never looked back. 2009
AIRLESS
The airless
room tightens its grip
Squeezing out
my thoughts.
The clock
tocks on
Though with a
start I reach a turn of the page
Where I left
it all those minutes ago –
Nothing
learned, nothing gained,
Every
bird-like moment flown.
I re-read my
own words,
Re-working my
steps,
The thought
Of rekindling
a flame that died long ago,
Past and
present locked in a vacuum,
The future a
sigh no-one will hear. 1971
DERELICTION OF
DUTY
Removed from the theatre of their lives,
These crumbling walls a prison or sanctuary;
Honest work, suffering, joy
Hovering unattainably just out of sight.
Now the ivy seems to whisper to the walls
About the memory of vast hollow spaces,
The faces, the corridors that echo in reply.
A piano across the breadth of time.
Ghost fingers linger then
Leave the keys without a tune
To age like rotting teeth
Now the dance is over.
Voices of children, distant and sweet
Move closer, enough to hear
What they are really saying.
The scattered minds, dispossessed
Cut adrift from their own disjointed stories,
From the sun, from love.
These temples - of status, control, dread
Died for a reason
And yet it becomes our derelict duty
To retain their broken rooms,
Hang on to an imperfect world
In mortification of the flesh -
Imperfect but knowable.
Shadows lengthen,
Birds fall silent.
The wind turns the page for me and
The sky radiates a deepening blue.
A miasma of prayer rises from the ground
Pleading scrutiny,
Deliverance from above
Beyond that which you know. 2012
REFLECTIONS IN THE SKY
They were
talking about the way it used to be
Walls soot black;
washing, smudged,
Zigzagged the
street
But steps shone
pride.
Slates in
place - tablets of stone
And windows
reflected the sky.
Rain clouds
swelled the drains vomiting rats
Filling the
cobbled spaces with tiny mirrors.
But summers
were kinder, some said,
And down the
market they claimed
Garden fruit never
tasted sweeter
While birds of
fancy could croon their own song -
And gather
fruit perhaps –
But rarely
fly.
2003
THE DAY OUR FOREST
DIED
Suddenly the breeze grew colder, stronger.
As stars dropped from the evening sky
Our toes froze. In the frosted by-ways
Nests and webs blossom- blasted;
From fruitless trees leaves fell earlier,
The nights drew tighter, longer, wilder
Squeezing out the light.
Our ways grew wild in the rain,
Camp fires shrub-tangled, memories of
Songs no longer chanted.
The scarred slopes of winter healed
But the stream that was our Nile
Promised no adventure,
Trickling through our wrinkled fingers;
And our climbing trees, our longboats -
Rotting hulks
Since the day our forest died. 1997
NOSTALGIA
The precision of memory
Crowded out by empirical research
Recorded over by the DVD
Shamed by the media
That tries to make a list out of you
Tweeted to all and sundry
To an audience that doubts your mind,
Questions your heart, denies you ever really mattered
And doesn’t really care.
Nostalgia – not what it used to be! 2009
DREAMTIME
PEOPLE
Rocks humming
To your
tapping sticks
To your
droning deep vibration
Caught in a time
trap
That demands
your soul.
I have answers from the rocks, the trees
From your dreamtime spirits
To questions I have not been able to frame
And don’t feel I’ve the right to ask.
You know us better than ourselves
And so no reason for you to talk any more
But every reason we should listen.
I am not from your land,
Perhaps not your time
But there are shared thoughts
That hold us to the places we love.
Soon I will return to my own land
Leaving only footprints
But taking our thoughts and
The scent of your sacred soil. 2000
NEW WORLDS FOR OLD
You are rooting out my world
The phone box -
gone from the corner,
Slipped out of its smart red suit and left a naked space
Where the ghosts of voices linger.
Our ‘local’ - now loud
and brash with clattering plates
Tumbling coins and careering children
Under the feet of foreign waitresses.
Sole traders in the town, bereft, adrift
On a high street tide of discount and charity
To be boarded by pirates.
In the teashop they once knew your name,
With a brew just how you like it,
Where you could talk without crossing chords
With some shrill diva, frothy band or DJ
Trying to invent a biography.
Gone - the booths where you listened
To the vinyl of your youth;
Touchline dads who could ref without swearing;
Swings with seats – no need to
Lift their feet above the broken glass -
No fear of paedos or needles in the bushes.
Chips flavoured in the local Echo;
Tin trays, pram wheels and imagination our playthings,
Big glass jars arranged on the shelf
Making it so hard to choose.
Now they take the sweets away
And every pound you earn
Seems the claim of someone else.
Piece by piece the rag and bone man
Carries off old memories for recycling - or re-education;
And the window cleaner - just got his PhD -
Doesn’t call here anymore. 2012
CONCERT SQUARE
An aimless wandering of quiet streets
Where brick walls echo and arched doorways gape;
Cobbles ring as they always did, pigeon-flustered
As the buskers sing the past,
The amber-jewelled city rising with the sun
Sweeping the dregs of night
From the legs of the pavement cafes
Setting out its stall for another day. 2011
THE SKY AT NIGHT (to the memory of Sir Patrick Moore)
The sky may be strangely silent tonight -
Not quite the same.
Though stars may shine as bright
Heaven knows of a missing flame.
In the familiar wheel
Known to the ancients I surmised
Beginnings and endings in wonderment
That filled your every moonrise
And enquiring mind with awe,
Theorems evolving with the cosmos as they should
To perplex, excite and astound as before.
From Sputnik to Apollo you followed the race
Beyond first and final steps
To the deepest frontiers of space.
While gazing on the past
Reflecting on the future
The eternal question still unanswered:
Can our poor Earth last
If we insist on measuring distance between
Our greatest revelations and feats
In terms of visible signs and light years
Instead of dreams and heartbeats.
But somehow the magic comes together
And seems to shine proudly
Upon England tonight -
As we gaze far into your silent starry night.
It is nearly dawn.
A banana moon is caught in a tree.
Was that Jupiter trying to talk her down
Or you, brightest star in the morning sky
Talking to the Moon all night? 2013
.
PERCH ROCK
Stranded in
rock pools
Marooned like
weed-tangled wrecks
Waiting for
discovery, to be refloated,
Old friends sharing
the spoils of time
The ebb and
flow of conversation - one heartbeat.
The waves
listen in then die.
1998
THOUGHTS
We have sipped
many times at sunrise,
Woken with the
dew in our hair
And to
mystiful tunes
A million
balloons
Carry our
thoughts to the air. 1977
VINYL BEACH
Like slates perfectly cleaved from my youth,
By the tickle of a needle the sudden release
Of a forest of memories teased back to life,
Trace fossils that replay love calls of dinosaurs
With that soft hiss like bacon on a low heat
Filling the air with aromas – Windmills of my mind
Summer breeze, Dead end street then
The sound of silence, refreshed, familiar
In that dull regular click, the heart beat
Of long missed friends returning with things to say -
News still the same, just older -
As when you first spoke to me and my heart leaped
And scratched you into my memory forever.
Smooth curves glisten like anthracite
Stylus touch-down on an arc of the Earth
From a space station on an orbit of time
Filled with anticipation and there I am: grounded.
I remember when young
Trying to count the rings on old 78s and 45s
Like tree stumps, when in reality
The magic is ageless, eternally rooted
No cosmetic surgery, nothing digitally remastered;
Icons, relics of their age buried in the beach of time
Awaiting
resurrection. 2010
QUEEN OF THE
DESERT
With each hour of the waking day she changes
Emerging from black night into mysterious dawn
Her pillars and arches betray the grimness
Of the quarry and the slave
Through the heat and brazen light of midday,
Commanding the respect of age, even as
The sky shades into the mellow notes of evening
She dresses as the desert queen – Palmyra.
MOON UPON THE
OCEAN
Moon upon the ocean knows not
That it floats out with the tide
Towards horizons new.
So the travelling man
Can no more be held
From his journey into
Dreams and questions of his youth,
Catching up with his star
That speck of inspiration,
A lantern in his heaven
By which he tries to find answers. 1980
WORN JACKET
Patched elbows,
frayed cuffs, scuffed collar,
Loose threads where
buttons should have been,
Careless pockets
that have mislaid their purpose;
A crumpled
poppy and a shard of palm
Dreams that were
crucified
Life and death
only seen from the farmhouse door
And where time
has been kind to neither body nor soul. 1999
MUD
Echoes ripple
through the woods.
On the far
side of the stream
Soldiers or
cowboys, or civil engineers
Call from the shadows
cast by oak and pine.
You make out a
boy, digging the banks with bare hands
Pulling the
slick grey clay that
Slides like
liver from a gaping chest.
He shouts to
others to join in his creation.
As afternoon
chills
Stillness
returns and you climb down the bank
To where the
children had been at play
Seeing their
footprints in the soft mud
Knowing some
of them match your own. 1990
WOODSPIRITS
Evening sun slides
fingers across the ancient hills
Waking the
green man from root-bound slumbers
To breathe
damp into the by-ways and thickets of twilight,
Enfolding the
listener in fragrant vibrations.
Ripples of
wisdom from distant memory
Spill over
time’s vast cup,
Outpouring
from the basal rock
He conducts his
magic
And his
warning-
For those who
live in the spirit of oak,
To guard the wildwood
ways
Lest the
spirits that dwell therein
Be forever
broken. 1998
OLD RAILWAY STATION
Dusk settles
on the platform like golden soot
Leaves scurry
between the tracks
Trying to
mimic the last train of fifty years ago,
Listening for
the faint echo of iron wheels
And escaping
steam
The whistles
and chugging vibrations
That stir a
kind of longing. 1988
PARTNERS IN TIME
The
path is rough where orchids grew
Woodsmoke
barely touches the sky
But a dust has
settled on the ploughshare
And
the axe still clings to its rotted stump.
The
ploughman with his heavy horse pass by.
Leaves
fill quickly the ruts with mould;
The
wood that once dwelt and the field
Once
known by family name.
The
corn that once grew felt the warmth of the sower
The
pot once boiled with fish and game
Through
fire known to the thrower.
The
child and the man fed on toil and reason
When
Man had time for the world
And
the world had time for Man
And
the year and the man knew their season. 1973
HALLOWE’EN
Beware the twilight zone –
Go out if you dare but don’t go alone.
The spirits will rise for Hallowe’en soon
When witches will dance by the light of the moon.
Goblins and imps may taunt you and tease
Playing such tricks as will make your blood freeze.
As black dog or bat the vampire will prowl;
The night will be split by the werewolf’s howl.
Ghosts lie in wait to unnerve the unwary
On a night of toe-curling, evil and scary.
Beware, beware All Hallows eve;
What foul deeds be done, what spells we may weave.
So run, run, never look back,
Though your lungs may burn and your rib cage crack
One bite, one scratch of saliva or puss
Is enough to make you one of us. 2009
NEW YEAR’S DAY
This land has not
yet woken
Calm of a smoke
grey sky
Soft veils of
rain
Drift in from the
open sea.
The tide has gone
to greet the shadows
On the dark
horizon.
And the plumes of
strand
Gull-speckled, stripe
the river.
As you watch the
silent city sleep
You can breathe the
newness
For nothing stirs
-
Not the river, nor
the marsh grass.
Small boats lie
fast asleep on their side;
You would not
dream this to be other
Than the dawn of
a new age
Though the gulls
remain unmoved.
So you keep the
thought alive
Walk out to greet
the tide
Fill your soul
with new hope
Until the first
siren wails. 2012
DREAMS
What colours
your dreams -
Pastel shades or
bold designs
On your canvas
of hopes,
Symbols and
signs
Ready to see
the light?
Where do they
take you -
Do they calm
or conspire,
Bringing the sharp
edge of the world
A little
closer - inspire
With a horizon
of promises?
And on waking
do you breathe
The rank air
of nowhere and never
Or let them carry
you above the clouds?
To taste the
pure skies of forever -
Will you let
them take flight? 1980
WATERCOLOURS
They splash
and frolic in laughing water
Gurgling and
sparkling with glee,
Reflecting the
breeze and the sky and the child
And the day
and the hour to be free.
What new
colours will the river assume
Before it
finally spills to the sea? 2000
CLOCKS
Gaining an hour
Is no consolation
For missing you -
Autumn nights just
longer
As we enter
time’s dark tunnel
Each alone. 2004
A CHILD’S MAP
‘Child’s Map’,
the sign read
‘Just nine
ninety-nine’ -
I picked one
up and rolled it out -
Such a
beautiful design.
Bright cloud
swirled o’er oceans
Galleons blown
to shore
White horses
spun from wave tops
Where gulls
and eagles soar.
A child could trace
a journey
Between places
with magical names,
A finger to
wander the planet
Engrossed in mindful
games.
Dublin to the
Kremlin
Alaska to
Niagara Falls
From the
pyramids of Egypt
To China’s
Imperial Walls.
Rivers deep
and winding
On their
journey to the sea –
Brahmaputra,
Shenandoah
Nile and
Zambezi.
Mountains high
where eagles soar,
Jungles,
parrots and snakes
Savanna where
the lions roar
Glaciers,
volcanic lakes.
The feel of
hot Sahara sand
Tastes of old
Siam
The scent of
pine from northern lands
The sounds of
old Japan.
Then a child’s
voice broke my thoughts -
Behind I stood
in line:
‘Can I have
one now dad, please dad?
They’re only
nine ninety nine’.
Before his
father could reply -
Could I detect
a tinge of sorrow
When the child
went on, quite tellingly
‘’cause it may
all be gone tomorrow’. 1984
TO THE YOUNG BOY
I love to hear
you outside my window
Laughing in the
snow;
I watch you in
your Christmas colours,
As I peep through
my faded curtains
To share your
sunshine for a flickering moment.
But you catch me
and I recoil like a snail,
Then your pretty
tinkling laughter turns,
Splinters your
eyes dark as needles,
Cruel words fired
like bullets at my window.
And I feel older,
colder, nobody else’s shoulder -
Just me, my cold
bed and the words that you said. 1984
TO THE OLD LADY at NUMBER 23
Dear old lady at
number twenty three,
All my friends
were laughing so it wasn’t only me -
Not really ‘cause
I had a gran quite a lot like you,
She used to come
to see us and took me to the zoo.
She was fairly
old and wrinkly like a shirt that needs an iron,
But I loved her
all the same and she had a cat called Brian.
She used to do
some funny things like going to the shops,
Forgetting she
has to pay for stuff and returning with the cops.
Then she asks
them in for tea and gives them orange juice
And makes them
watch the telly and eat doughnuts meant for me!
So I’m sorry if
you think I’m bad – I won’t ever do it again,
And if that boy
with freckles comes round, I’ll tell him he’s a pain -
Though mum says
make allowances ‘cause he hasn’t got a
dad
And though his
mum’s a trollop, she’s all he’s ever had.
So maybe I’ll
call in and see you and make you a Christmas card;
I could cook your
Christmas dinner – perhaps that’s a bit too
hard!
But I could bring
some of mum’s mince pies and dad’s Guinness in a can,
And maybe if you
like me then you’ll let me call you gran! 1981
CAMERAZZI
Tunnel vision camerazzi
Freezing a
millisecond to
Bring in focus what
we have forgotten - or never knew,
Something from the
past that for our future tolls,
A priceless gem that
may just save the world
If we could just
gain the same perspective. 1993
HIROSHIMA
Just the shredded
clothes
And melted
playthings of your life remain -
And the cinders
of the lunch you never ate.
Walking to school
on that glorious morning
When the clocks
stopped
And a shadow was left
on the steps
At the end of
your world -
As you walked to
school at 8.15.
Did I ever hear
your name - was it somebody calling you?
1001 cranes flew
by. 2004
AT THE DRIVE-IN
At the all-night
drive-in,
I spoke to no-one
and no-one spoke to me
Strangers beneath
the almost smiling M
Sinatra singing
’My Way’
Our moods meshing
perfectly at the
Last stop before the
endless highway.
2003
FORECASTING
When you were a
child
Did you pull
wings off insects,
Hiss at the cat
to make him flee,
Taunt the dog
next door
To trap his
yapping head in the railings?
I watch as you
stride towards the map.
In confident
anticipation of your delight
You stand before
your magic screen –
Your chromakey
brilliance about to
Forecast our
dismal week together –
May as well stay
in bed, you smile,
For lying in wait
out at sea
A cold occlusion destined
to drag
An armada of hail
clouds across our sky,
A dragon’s tail to
winter approaching like a curse.
The corners of
your mouth shift slightly north
As you paint a
picture of the thundersnow
To comfort us to
bed
And with your
cheery goodnight your rosy lips curl.
Have you always
wanted to be a weather-girl?
2009
WRITING MY BOOK
Welcome to my
book!
I’ve been writing
it some time,
You are in it,
frequently
I could say you
wrote most of it –
As good as!
For yours was the
inspiration,
The wondrousness,
The sadness
That has saved me
from being alone.
How long till I
finish?
Who knows!
The final chapter
may never be completed.
Yes, I have
regrets, and though their teeth are few,
They’ve bitten
deep;
But not the
passage of time –
That’s not one of
them,
For treasured moments
are time-locked
Each chapter its
characters and heroes,
Hopes and fears,
successes and failures.
Sometimes, though
the ink is mine
The storyline
seems borrowed
And I the reporter
not the navigator.
Then I have
doubts and think
I’d rather hand
the pen to you. 1992
DYLAN
You often
painted over the lines
Never joined
the dots the way expected
Breathing the emotion
of spellbound visions
Yours and mine
Into place and
time. 2006
MAINTAINING THE STATUS QUO
We’re up on the
stage
We were once all
the rage
Now I’m losing my
voice
and I haven’t a
choice
But look good for
our age.
We’re off to a
show
Got a new gig
Don’t want no-one
to know
can’t make my
hair grow
So I’m wearing a
wig.
We gotta act
tough
Maybe play in the
buff
Strutting our
stuff
till we run out of puff
But is it enough!
We’re down at the
docks
An arena that
rocks
We dress like the
youth
though we’re long in the tooth –
Do you like my
new socks?
Though the past
is a haze
Can’t forget the
old ways
We ain’t gonna
stop –
goin’ to rock till we drop
Just like the old
days.
It’s festival
time
We’re out on the
road
We must be insane
in the wind and the rain
As we slowly
corrode.
But it’s festival
time
And we’re way
past our prime
I’m forgetting
the lyric
and sometimes the rhyme
So now we just
mime.
I play some new
tunes
But the crowd
want the hits
It’s so long ago
–
I remember them
though
But only in bits.
We don’t make a
fuss
Coz a godsend to
us
Are our fans –
it’s absurd
but they know all
the words
They’re the same
age as us.
When we sang in
our prime
We had girls all
the time
Now most of our
fans
are all granddads
and nans
But what can you
do?
Up here rhythm is
king
Still doing our
thing
At the end of the
day
still rocking
away –
Could be my last
fling.
We’ve just had a
shower
Been on less than
an hour
But I’m in need
of the loo
coz I’m losing too
My retentive power.
We’re still mad
for it
Would love a new
hit
But the songs
that I write
come morning light
Are a load of
shit.
And so you’ll see
me
Down at HMV
Signing copies
for free
of our latest CD
-well, just a nominal fee.
My marbles are
lost
But our tickets
are sold
If I were the
boss
I’d lower the cost
But I do as I’m
told.
Hair looking grey
And it gets in
the way
Just the last
song to play
but they want you to stay
Hey! It’s been a
good day.
Some say we
should quit
Make no
hullabaloo
You can hit a
dance floor
when you’re
twenty four
But not seventy
two.
And to them I
would say
Whatever you want
- whatever you do
We’re still
having our turn
and we’ve money
to burn
So go screw you! 2011
OLD DOG
Found the old dog
today
Dead in a dried
up ditch;
Buzzing with flies
big as your fist;
Looks scarcely worse
dead than alive.
Frozen grimace -
a last curl of the lip.
He used to slink
into the shadows
To hide his
scabby flesh
Dying to be
ignored but
Too slow to avoid
the broom –
Whacks from vexed
mothers.
His ropy tail hung
like flex -
Forgotten how to
wag.
Hobbling on
arthritic paws
He slumped beside us
Knowing his
distance
Biting at fleas
Laying out blistered
sores
With a rasp of
frothy tongue
Licking his ashen skin raw.
Never knew a
brush or the sublime caress
Of a comb through
his matted hair.
Gave up long ago
expecting scraps
From dumb waiters
Too slow to avoid
the kicks,
Too old to respond
to fear he
Slunk away to obscurity.
And so I found
him today, the old dog
Granted his wish,
dead in a ditch -
Nobody’s memory,
until now. 2005
SPRING
Bright cool sun bounces
like spring off the fields
To the crow and
wood pigeon call.
Then silence,
As if the day is
nervously waiting for something to happen,
Someone to grab
it by the second and shake it up;
But that’s
another place, another time.
For now it all
lies on display
And allows you to
breathe it in …..just to be. 2006
GETTING OLD
Time is brushing
me aside
Relentlessly
whittling me down –
Has been for
years,
Losing my hair –
First observed in
my teenage years -
Trying to scare
me;
Then my remaining
hair turns white.
Next is was
crow’s feet
And my yummy
tummy
White whiskers on
a double chin
Barely recognisable
as my passport photo.
Arthritic knuckles
on old man’s hands
Liver spots and
blotchy skin
Dodgy knees and
failing glands.
And last night I
discovered the blue shadow of a vein
As I struggled to
pull on my socks
The scare tactics
starting to work. 2011
WRITE ON!
A reading frenzy
fills the air f
Fed by the clamour
The swirls amid
the whoops and calls,
The pecks at
glamour
Disdaining each
new opening to the sun;
Some will wheeze
and fumble in their talk
Find some niche
and build
A perch from
where to squawk but
I do not fear the
tooth and claw,
I do not need to
scar nor score;
I will reach into
my past
I will create my
own light.
And dwell beneath
whatever ray is cast. 1996
GUARDIAN
The guardian
stands cowled, alert
As we move
fast across the desert floor
Expecting time
to slow
Expecting wise
words from these rocks of ages
To rise and seep
from their core to flow
Or fly at us
in a blizzard of light
Glinting
arrows from a blood-wept past
That litter
this land like scree.
So much to
ponder - and not so long ago.
Am I becoming
its guardian
Before I go?
Monument Valley 2006
PUSHING THE LIMITS
Fisher at the
edge of time
Angles for some
undetected fish,
Hand to the reel,
hand to the net…. waiting!
Hunter at the
edge of time
Pursues the endangered,
for the taking,
Finger on the
trigger, finger on the flash.... waiting!
In a maelstrom of
swirls and eddies
Casting
aspersions to the babbling stream
Paddling in the
verbal mire,
Ear to the mobile
Wallet full of
bait poised for a bite;
Stretching incredulity,
waiting for effect;
Coaxing the boast,
taunting the beast;
Forcing the hand,
feeding the lie,
Risking a life -
pushing the limits. 1971
D-DAY
This delectable
moment - D- Day
De-railed
De-commissioned
De-stressed
De- fused
De-toxed
De-lightfully
De-terminedly
Re-discovering….
ME! 2002
PAINTER OF DREAMS
It started in a
dream
Of visionary
colours – to be a masterpiece
Searching at
daybreak, the right landscape
To come my way.
I set up my easel,
Started to draw
with perfect perspective
Things I’d never
observed before,
Preparing an
exquisite palette
Covering a blank
canvas
With artistry and
skill
Satisfying brush
strokes
Closing in on a
vision of sunset
As the dream slept.
But wild winds were
forecast
Uncertainty where
they would go
Showers to obscure
the view
And run colours
together
Images blurring,
confused -
Caught in the
open
Frozen and windblown
Till all of the
colour had gone.
I picked up my
canvas
Packed brushes, easel
folded
Paints wrapped, waiting
for the sign
The right moment
to move on. 2002
TRACE FOSSIL
Here, millions of years ago
Was a Triassic waste, a waterhole
Claw marks where a bird sipped.
Did you make it across that ancient barren land
To perpetuate your species
Or did you perish with only this trace?
And what of us
What fossilised legacy
For time lords to explore,
We who are so close to the brink
Close enough to sip
The meltwaters of a climate in change.
In this place - shallow pool
Dwindling in a broiling desert
She stooped to drink her last
Splashed wings, a scuffle of claws
In defence or attack of a parasite
Before she was caught in the baking mud
–
To perish along with her age
Crushed to a thin broken band
For a curious future - here, in this place. 2011
ARRAN ISLE
As you set out
for Arran Isle
I hope your
road though long
Lies full of
adventure, of discovery
That draws you
the extra mile
Sometimes to
be teased and tested
Guided by
ancient tunes
Searching for truths
you’ll come to know,
Wiser,
stronger, rejoicing in the light
Understanding
the harmony of the world
Keeping your
vision bright.
And when you
get to Arran Isle -
Though you
find it poor, don’t despair;
She may have
nothing for you now
But she has
not betrayed you -
She who has
gone the extra mile,
She who was
your guiding star.
And when your
journey’s almost done
You may
understand what these islands mean
And who you
really are. 1996
SEASCAPE
The sun glows just below the horizon
Purple sky blazing streaks of pink cloud
Strange dalian forms and moods
Emerging from the dying day
Invasion by an alien force
Two moons in the sky. 2012
GOING FORWARD
To go forward,
you sometimes need to rewind,
And wipe the
tape clear to refocus your mind. 1990
SANDCASTLE
The
sea, a glittering quilt far away.
I
dug the heavy sand moulding towers, and moats
And
all the while the sun sparkled and sighed.
I
collected shells to adorn the walls,
Crown
the magnificent feats of the morning
Driven
desire to achieve and
Not
wanting to believe in transience.
Those
tiny birds that skittered the hem of the sea
Were
now strutting close or bobbing
Like
the boats whose names I could now read.
The
edge of the sea started to dribble and swash
Up
to the castle and spill into the moat
Soaking
foundations and causing ultimate collapse
Into
the deepening waves.
With
a helpless droop of shoulder, the glum
Acceptance
of inevitable defeat –
I
watched it all wiped out
In
the cry and wheel of a gull.
How
could I have thought to resist the flow of the tide?
Just
driven by the urge to create.
Did
I think the world would never turn?
I
suppose I knew – all things must pass;
I
just wanted to share in the absurd. 2013
COTTAGE BY THE SEA
There’s a nice
cottage beside the sea we could afford –
Perhaps we should
make an offer.
We love to travel
– see the world -
We may be in
India in March, if we survive the winter.
Perhaps we could
meet - somewhere nice – not too hot.
It’s a big house
now there are only two of us –
Perhaps we need a
cleaner - and someone to do the garden.
But these are
hard times –
Perhaps we should
be cutting back,
Thinking of
spending more time with the grandkids –
They won’t be
children long;
Which reminds me:
perhaps we should update our will.
Or perhaps we
should go for that cottage by the sea. 2012
WARRIORS
Warrior faces on distant peaks
Wise and gaunt
Look east and west across eternal seas
And up to the stars.
You ask me,
‘What is left to protect?’
I answer, ’Everything you know
And everyone you have ever loved’. 2009
LONELY PLANET
Revolving in a
groove of time,
Once you spun
excitedly throwing out sparks
Now your embers tend
more to slumber
And hard it is to
spin at all.
The sun feels
weak - no songs to listen to
Just things that
bleep to remind you
You were once so
special -
Now just a lonely
planet. 2001
IT WAS ALL SO SILENT
It was all so
silent
And unspoken
Like an outcast
grave
Where old bones
cannot rest;
Secret - like
dust
Silently weeping
unseen
Into a forgotten
vault,
Into air no-one will
ever breathe,
Fall-out from a
hidden past
Whose half- life
is forever,
Sprinkling motes
of confusion
That defies
understanding
Save in our love. 1994
FUTURE PLANNING
It’s going to be
a splendid summer day
Raspberry canes
are shooting thick and fast
And the rhubarb
never lets us down.
On the sunlit
patio taking tea on a tray
To birdsong and a
plate of digestives
Idly talking an
hour away instead
Of making notes
and watching clocks,
Playing with
vapour trails that unzip the sky:
Where have they
travelled from,
What winds have
blown them across our shores
On business or
vacation
And when may we
be free to pause,
To consider the
long long days ahead
While savouring longings
for our own destinations? 2000
A FINAL SUMMER
A drink
To the final
landscape of old age
Summer not yet a
memory
Though the days
grow shorter.
Natural for each
of us to have wandered our own way,
And now we all
meet up on the same shore,
The final
frontier to explore.
But I won’t
release the summer without a fight,
I leave the back
door open
To capture more
light, more hours, more insect life
And let the winds
whisper sleepily
Around the house
Looking for the
Beaujolais. 2013
THE VOICE
I am many people
but one voice
An echo through
time, constant, powerful
Reaching from the
deepest notes of
Our being, our
heritage, ancestral ways
Stretching up to
indeterminable heights
Of aspiration, of
longings, of dreams,
To the holiest
most enduring achievement of men,
The most earthly
manifestation of heaven.
2013
WORLD WITHOUT END
When next you
feel raindrops on your skin
Feel the power of
Earth within
And think that
once they might have been
Tears of a
dinosaur.
With the
splitting of rock you re-enter time
That was, is now
and ever shall be,
For the past informs
the future
And the future
has no end.
To lost eons of
sunlight
Over mountain,
plain and thrumming forest
We shall add our
shallow horizon - just for the record,
When life teemed in
unimaginable wonder,
When the anguish
of existence
Engaged with the
cosmos
And though we are
stardust
One day may share
a new horizon
and mould a new
landscape for the world. 1975
HISTORY
From an evolving
present looking back
Over a burden of
acceptance
A cumbersome but
precious sack
Of chaos seeking
reasons,
Itching for
elucidation.
We attempt to
deal with the past, its
Dissatisfaction,
disquiet
The sense that
that which is not well
Had its genesis in
strife.
It trips us up,
bogs us down,
Complicates and
misleads, it is
That which cannot
be expunged,
A meadow of past
time where
We may revisit
the sites of heroes and villains.
No compass when
travelling through history’s
Loops and
detours, by-ways and dead ends
Reviewing the
evidence in search of ourselves –
The animal that
asks ‘why?’ 2006
IMMORTALITY
Acquired through
thought and deed
The canvas primed
with good or evil
To paint a tidal
wave
Chasing through
the oceans endless days
Following a sun that
never sets
And lights the
world for everyone. 1991
SECONDS
Capsules of
certainty, truer than sight
Filled with mixed
blessings.
Thousands caught
in the net of each precious hour
Speeding in
convoy through sound and mile
Along the
superhighway of light
To burst before
our eyes
Slam shut with
the wind
Or close gentle
as a flower
In the fading
rays of day. 2012
SCULPTING THE PAST
An ancient head
Resurrected from
two thousand years of sleep
Unchanged by the
course of history
Embodying the
thoughts and skills of the long dead –
Not always the
same head I see today.
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