Preface
The problem with a collection of verse based on
affairs of the heart is that they may be considered auto- biographical. Many
are, but others are based as much on observation and perception. Indeed, if
they had all been founded on personal experience, I think I would be a basket
case by now!
Contents
Page
Interface 4
Conkers
4
Almost Glimpsed the Sun 4
Winter Tree 5
Daydreams 5
Fireside Glow 6
My Favourite Book
6
Snowflake 6
Echo 6
Valentine 7
Fool’s Gold 8
A Pretty Girl 9
Heartbeat 9
A Few Short Verses – haiku style 10
Heroes and Lovers
11
Harbour
11
The Sea
11
For Caroline
12
Black Silk
12
Drizzle
12
Nightshade
13
Night Passion
13
Dark Tunnel
14
Your Fella
14
Bread
14
Still Travelling
14
No Answer
15
November
15
Paintbox
15
30 years Ago
16
Not the Man you Hoped for
17
Don’t Let Go
18
Dreams
18
Joined at the Heart
19
Stars
19
Above the Clouds
20
Irish Eyes
20
Walled Garden
20
Videolink
21
Motorcycling
21
New Horizons
22
A Killing Frost
22
Sinking
22
Your Amazing Life
22
Lost at Sea
23
Pink Clouds
23
Advancing Days
23
Provence
24
Missing You 24
A Life Left Behind
24
Ducks 25
In Darkened Room
25
Regrets
26
Potting the Pink 26
Gallery of Dreams 26
B&Q
27
Talk to the Wall
28
Remember 29
The Beach 29
Cinderella, Superman and Miss
30
Mirror
32
Deflowering
32
I Want to Run Away With You
32
Rebirth
33
Star-Rise 33
Cloud
33
Still
34
The Other Side
34
If I Had Two Hearts
35
Thoughtlessly Me!
35
Mild and Bitter
36
Sailing
36
Just Slipped Away
37
Stranded
37
Retiring to the Sea 37
XV 38
To my Dad 38
Your Timeless Journey
39
Formula 1
40
Dreamland
40
Guilty
40
My Magic Candle
41
No Direction Home 42
A Pounding Heart
INTERFACE
Peering in a mirror
beyond the stubble
to distant faces
from whom my genes were forged,
to features, quirks and wrinkles,
winding paths
of my inheritance tracks,
envisioned when my creator
with love and wisdom
breathed out my soul. 2014
CONKERS
|
Never saw the point of conkers -
knuckular bruising every autumn,
inevitable defeat
shattered by one shinier,
bigger, harder.
To an embarrassment of tangled threads
I would always miss but played on –
that is what you did - in
voiceless protest
at the pain as
one by one
my stars
went
out –
completely broken,
completely bonkers. 2014
ALMOST GLIMPSED
THE SUN
Almost glimpsed the sun today
but glancing up, tripped and fell.
When I looked again
she was gone. 1973
WINTER TREE
|
My brittle world - a
winter tree
cold and grey on a heaving sky.
Colours moisten other eyes
but mine are saved as greyscale,
thoughts fixed only on you.
Frozen I stare, your branches twisted in
agony
longing too for the warmth
that would set us free.
Winter has cast a lead casket for my heart
locked away for an eternity.
I melt a hole to peer at the world
a frozen window, and I,
prisoner of distance,
exiled from your summer eyes,
thoughts delve in search of passion’s roots
that would sink forever deeper
till no deeper depths exist.
My brittle world, a winter tree
longing for spring to set me free. 1973
1973-4 was a
hard, hard year, when Caroline and I were apart for months at a time, students
in different universities. The empty wastes of time between our reunions seemed
interminable.
DAYDREAMS
When I was very young
I imagined I could fly,
escape the monster in his lair -
just a short run and a hop,
spread my arms and rise into the air
into dreams where no bells nor sirens sound
and nothing ties me to the ground –
my daydreams, only things I truly own,
at liberty to follow them on,
no questions asked - just
close my eyes and I’m gone.
Last night I dreamed I was a bird,
free to fly wherever in time and space,
no need to land or
to speak aloud
just flying high I’d see your face
painted on the clouds. 2013
FIRESIDE GLOW
Dark sky in shreds by icy winds
that howl and snarl
so I’m writing to you in the fire-glow
to swear it’s me who truly loves you,
me who really cares - not Karl! 2012
MY FAVOURITE BOOK
You are my favourite book,
my favourite melody,
my favourite play;
my most treasured dvd
to replay whenever, just for me.
You are my photo album
my dearest facebook page,
my box of colours;
my lines of verse to you
a treasury within my heart
so wherever I go
and wherever I look
I’ll always have my favourite book. 2010
SNOWFLAKE
One in a million million
for all around to see,
a pristine beauty all your own
and here you are with me,
making no demands
on a frosty winter’s day
but the warmth in truth
from this earnest youth
may melt you clean away. 2002
ECHO
The ear may trick the memory but my mirror cannot lie,
a deep gut feeling rumbles like thunder across the sky
or the echo of the ‘bang’ that asks ‘just who is this
guy?’ 2011
VALENTINE
I’d so like to confront you with all I’ve been through
since we first really met on that trip to the zoo.
To keep animals encaged you declared was quite cruel
and launched a campaign on returning to school.
There was passion in your eyes and fire in your belly;
my heart was set pounding, my knees turned to jelly.
And through all these years I’ve admired from afar:
your beauty, your style, the make of your car.
But now I have to tell you, so you’re not in any doubt
just how I feel – I’ve got to let it out
on this day of all days when I guess that it’s fine
to tell you I want you, my lovely Valentine.
There’s so much about you that I appreciate -
so don’t judge me too harshly, or too indelicate;
rather I’m a measure of your great attractive power
that urges me to ask you out, to offer you a flower.
And I would use the least excuse to call and find you in,
to feel your breath, to taste your lips, my lips upon
your skin,
to breathe the air you leave behind, your perfume as it
lingers;
I’d like to stroke your body with the tips of my fingers.
The sunshine on your hair that flows upon your shoulders
tumbling in graceful waves like water over boulders.
I like your shoulders too, of course – really great
potential
for holding up all types of strap, they’re really quite
essential.
I like the softness of your cheeks, the roundness of your
nose
the funny little squeak it makes, sometimes, when it
blows.
I like the way your lips disclose the layout of your
teeth –
gleaming white and pearly, some above and some beneath.
I’d love my lips to kiss them, explore them with my
tongue
every day till we’re old and grey – not just while we’re
young.
I love your eyes like diamonds that sparkle when you
smile
I wish that they would look at me and say ‘please stay
awhile’.
Your legs so smooth and graceful in black and sexy tights
that keep them warm and free from harm from wasp and
mozzie bites.
I’d love to see your legs unwind your dark shadows
concealed
and explore their deepest depths, their mysteries
revealed.
I’d like to feel around the hem and tantalise and flirt
my fingers slowly rising up to seek beneath your skirt.
I’d like to sense your fingers unfastening my flies
and feel their warm caresses play between my thighs.
I’d like to have you in my power and see your eyes dilate
to tilt your chin as I come in and feel you lubricate.
I’d let your fingertips explore and sit astride my log
on days and nights of fantasy you could mention in your
blog.
To have you and to hold you I would cross both
hemispheres
just to run my finger round the sculpture of your ears.
I’d love a long haul flight with you and join the mile
high club
I’d rather nibble your earlobes than any airline grub.
We could sail into the sunset on a Caribbean cruise
hit the beach, a beer in reach and catch a sunkissed
snooze.
I’d like to see you bending, a glimpse inside your
cleavage
rising unexpectedly with just a little heavage.
I’d like to take you out to lunch with wine – a glass or
two
and raise a toast to togetherness and drink it from your
shoe.
I’d like to be around you when you are unhooking
slipping into nothing much, you knowing that I’m looking
to be your only audience, your preferential guy
for you to have my confidence, my heart until I die.
I’d find it hard to bring myself to you to say these
words,
from me you’ll think it weird – it may even sound absurd
so written as a poem some solace I may gain
hoping you’ll appreciate what I can’t explain
‘cause my face will surely go the deepest shade of red
and I hope you’ll
be my Valentine - at least inside my
head.
And what will really make this day go ever so much better
Is when you read this printed in the February parish
newsletter. 2013
FOOLS GOLD
Beneath her velvet cloak
a glint of tantalising ore
lit a certain fire in me
not felt since long before.
Smiling to her as I spoke
trying not to be a bore -
clear to all but me it seems -
fools gold, nothing more. 2010
A PRETTY GIRL
In a dream I wandered many years ago -
spied a very pretty girl, a girl I did not know.
She bore a tray of blessings, on each one was a bow
inviting me to take them - said I needed them to grow.
She seemed so young and fragile and I, well past my
prime;
just who was I kidding at such a telling time:
my weathered roof now falling in upon a life of crime -
how could I expose an angel to a sorry past like mine!
But the girl came slowly over and knelt to where I lay
‘You know I’ve always been here for you’ I heard her
sweetly say.
If she but knew the man before she’d surely run away.
Instead she looked me in the eye and asked me out to
play.
And when the moonlight kissed her face I very nearly
cried
as suddenly I recognised the girl I’d made my bride. 1995
HEARTBEAT
It’s not the morning sun completes me,
no crescendo of an eclipse,
no misty breath of midnight
nor fish and vinegared chips!
No forks of lightning or thunder
no peace of an inflowing tide,
just thankfulness and wonder
she’d consider to be my bride.
I’ve been moved by a dazzling portrait
but when first our eyes did meet,
your sweet lips increased my heart rate
the earth moved under my feet.
Music weaved its magic
and poetry played no small part;
something grand emerged from the tragic -
alone, you gave me your heart.
With life I still feel enraptured,
its ballet sets free my soul -
the spirit of youthfulness captured
through her love that makes me feel whole. 2014
A
FEW SHORT VERSES
poetry –
my avenue of life
gallery of my soul
that beautiful
evening
we sipped wine
watching the sun
sink into the bay
swimming near Lixouri
reflection on the water
how fine you look
the tide rises
sleek curves in the
golden sand
silver birds decide
to fly
|
flowers cloud my coffee
petals dissolve the music
then, there she is
I have my books and
paints
my poems and my
music -
all I need - and you
daily the hoover whines
who I’m expected to be
not who I am
flowers on the table
a meal for two
uneaten
Beaujolais unsipped
sudden snap of cold
then you just left us -
such a quiet Christmas
by the quayside
wrapped against a
bitter wind
tea and pastie gone cold
wanting to follow you
across the horizon but
wild geese leave no trail
won’t you come away
to a lonely place
alone
and rest awhile
out of the harsh cold
drinking at the low-lit bar
thoughts on absent friends
climbing winter
hills
struggling to accept
I’m
not young any more
a walk in the park
happy in their company
my three girls
grandchildren
growing
their small family
traits
the passing of
shadows
HEROES AND LOVERS
A snatch of conversation -
they were mentioning your name -
unlocked the combination
and so relit your flame.
Real or imagined
memories arose
from out of ash and cinders
a reborn spirit flows. 1978
HARBOUR
You are my harbour
my refuge from the squalls
that rage upon the ocean
that lies beyond your walls. 1978
THE SEA
Excited by the crashing surf
sucking on pebbles beneath my feet
|
that innocent raw power
nervously receding from the shore,
I wanted to wade in you forever, drink you deep,
your sparkle, your fullness.
I swam beneath your ragged hem
revealing untouched tantalising shores
the flow of your currents
and where they might take me.
I still think about the treasures beneath your waves
never to return to shore but as memory -
disturbing my equilibrium yet consoling
for thus you have always been
as I pray will always be,
worshipped for many a year
the waves that feed
an ebbing tide and me. 2007
FOR CAROLINE
Soft warm eyes
mingle in my liquid mind
heat a furnace deep within
fanning flames that burn my heart.
Fan the flames that try to reach her
tongues of silent love enquire
fierce the flames to smelt our feelings
alloy of our hearts’ desire.
Welding of our hearts and minds our
touching fingers interlace
seal with joy our lips with passion
bodies met in soft embrace.
Bodies met in sweet caresses
I am she and she is me
Spirits met and joined forever
one heart, one soul living free. 1974
BLACK SILK
I catch you in your mirror
feel as if I should not look -
your short black silk
not revealing, nor concealing,
but stretching up to loosen your hair
or bending down to gather,
black silk by candlelight
making the life current flow.
A glimpse of your hidden depths,
suggestion in your powerful shadows,
as you move without knowing the flows
and folds that tantalize and tease,
and bring this poor boy to his knees. 1975
DRIZZLE
Dark sagging day
a seeping spray drips cold inside my collar,
a moist web across my face.
Puddles tease my leaking shoe quickening the steps
that lead me home to you. 1975
NIGHTSHADE
Our sun dips red toes into cool and dreamy ocean
speckling the dusky hills with her final rays
sublimely turning their skin to gold
waiting for the moonrise, listening for the spheres.
As daylight flutters a closing eye, breezes sigh
into the long grass saying ‘Now is your time,
the moment saved for you to discover your universe.’
And as the stars rise you ask: ‘I wonder
can they see us, who cast their light so long ago,
just for us, here, tonight?’
And there is a whisper of their names
that drift like breath across the heather
and I breathe them back to the sky.
Diana casts her magic into the night
showers of stardust shimmer as they fall
but for one, the star he named for her.
Rising from their trembling emotions
fired by the glow inside they feel
no single moment in all creation
could taste so sweet and life
could no more offer, together
in folds of
nightshade
till the rediscovery of the dawn. 2011
NIGHT PASSION
I have gorged many times at your table
on your soft and lascivious fruit
peeled from the river of mercy
where vines and a virile root
have bound you with tongues to disable,
surrendered to waves of pursuit.
You have groomed me so oft in your stable
with strokes of immaculate brush
turned up the heat of the moment
fused with contusion and flush,
an erupting electrical cable
spitting out sparks in a rush.
The darkness retreats from our bedside
with pulsating starbursts of power
exposing our naked ambitions
to open you up !ike a flower. 1980
DARK TUNNEL
As the clocks go back an hour -
no recompense in missing you longer;
but we have entered dark tunnels before,
each alone, and come through, stronger. 2014
YOUR FELLA
Running through wet streets
leading your reflection by umbrella -
slipped and fell – I did as well,
In love, and now I’m your fella. 1976
BREAD
The bread hasn’t risen as it should -
hollow in the middle
doesn’t feel so good,
crust spilt in several places
over the edges of the tin.
It takes time, she consoles, with food
to work perfection in.
‘Measuring ingredients to
the designated fraction
will enhance texture on the whole -
ensure a good reaction’.
‘But won’t the spirit of my bread be lost -
just compliance with science?’ I reply.
‘It’s about the baker too -an eye to the cost
but who aims to satisfy.’
So where I go now is confusing me -
I turn Nigella over and find another recipe:
My bread may not be perfectly formed
But you say it tastes just fine
Others make it look better,
Though not as flavoursome as mine.
Mass produced techniques applied
May reduce the production cost but
Taste buds are left unsatisfied
While the spirit of bread is lost. 2009
STILL TRAVELLING
A year ago
today your life - snatched away.
I’d never made
time to say
My son, how
proud you made me.
For one year
now, my life unravelling
One year on, the
bullet still travelling -
never another
chance to say how proud, my son, you made me. 2008
NO ANSWER
He pulled over to the roadside
engine throbbing
like a broken horse;
|
pulled off a leather glove and helmet,
fumbled for his phone;
stabbed out a number,
waited for her to pick.
‘Why won’t you ever answer?
I hoped this day of all days you might…….
Has anyone ever loved you more than I?
He revved his wild machine
and tore into the dark tunnel of night
calling ‘Look for me in the sky’. 2010
NOVEMBER
I wish my heart could not remember
your eyes, your lips
the sheen on your hair
your arms so tender
then I could bear the cold of November.
But now the moaning wind
whines and whips,
and there’s longing in the dying embers
for the warmth of your fire
at my finger tips. 1974
PAINTBOX
By chance I came across
my old paint-box
from when I painted you
that autumn when winds bit hard,
when I chose exile to annul pain - and failed,
wandering grey streets and byways
on frozen afternoons,
the art shop in the square
my only source of colour.
The loneliness of those nights
and days, longing for home. 2004
30 YEARS AGO
Thirty odd years, through thick times and thin
and the kiss of your lips still tingles my skin.
Experiences shared, places we’ve seen
but the warmth of our bed the best place I’ve been.
Three great kids whom we both love to bits -
so pleased they’ve not grown as spoiled little shits!
They love a good time but one thing they’ve not got
is the urge to tell restaurant waiters they’re hot!
I’ve hung around Next - not the greatest of thrills -
and stood at the checkout while you pay the bills!
And let’s not be forgetting Old Robbie Ross
surely worth millions, with what a wash and trim costs.
We share our frustrations but when things don’t go right
you’re always there for me on the darkest of nights
when everything’s hopeless, don’t know where to turn,
you bring consolation or a lesson to learn.
Down at the stables, in the pooh and the straw
I can smell it, like a halo, when you walk through the
door!
But I always look forward to when you come home
your cheeks all aglow, though your hair needs a comb!
Your pursuit of fitness I really admire
whereas me, I’m looking for a zimmer to hire.
You have all the
skills that just do in my head
- putting covers on duvets, baking wholemeal bread.
Cooking a meal using Quorn and not meat -
not quite my idea of the ideal treat!
Bur always and forever you’re my magic candle,
though at times I must say, a bit hot to handle!
So what’s held us together surely stronger than glue
Must be the love that I still have for you.
Some testing old times and yet no divorce -
but you’ll still not get me on the back of a horse!
2002
NOT THE MAN YOU
HOPED FOR
When the perfidious side of nature
and ill luck conspire
to send you weak and weary to your bed
you chastise me quite rightly
for things I leave undone,
thoughts I leave unsaid.
My strength is not in comfort;
when I possess no soothing balm
it must seem I leave your heart alone
but there’s an aching deep within
that cannot reach the light and
my heart seems clad
in the coldness of stone.
But my feelings fight to surface,
never meant to stress or harm -
only wish you love and happiness.
I know I’m not the one you hoped for,
or the man that you deserve -
with which you’ll agree wholeheartedly,
I guess. 2006
DON’T LET GO
It isn’t hard to understand why summer chills your bones,
dries the deep well of your affection.
I feel embers dying, see your struggle,
touch the numbness of your fingers.
It isn’t easy confronting demons that
lurk behind every pillar, in every alcove,
hauntings you don’t deserve,
tapping your mind, eating your heart.
Sun and moon drink your light,
scary landscapes scoured from a weathered spirit
grip your soul and
I want to reach you
but muscles tighten in your face,
words freeze around the shell of my inadequacy -
and I recoil.
But my heart so wants to say to yours:
‘Don’t let demons of the dark past dance- don’t hold on.
There are dreams yet to make real - don’t let them go’.
It’s hard, so hard
I know. 1997
DREAMS
As I type these words to you
I feel their reassuring warmth nestling like children
who link us with their love, their warmth
through the cold, unfriendly night.
I watch them grow, characters form, their ideas flow
and speak to me of your soft repose.
I picture you relaxing - glass of wine,
sharing time with my thoughts;
I need no reminding of your angel face,
only my regret not asking
for your portrait to place near my heart
in the gallery of my dreams. 2004
JOINED AT THE
HEART
Throughout the fearful silence of your night
I lie awake till morning light,
cannot be still, my tortured mind
and leave my fears for you behind.
I see your face on the plasma screen
in barren fields that once were green;
I feel the heat behind your tears
that seem to flow across the years;
I want to show how much I care
but not sure how or if I dare.
I want to comfort with a moonlight kiss
allow your world a taste of bliss;
I want to tell you it’s alright
I want to bring you peace tonight
though you look at me as if to say
‘Just take my life, cast it away;
this pain is all my people know,
our channelled lives will never flow’.
You’re every night upon TV.
What would you do if you were me?
I don’t have the kind of power
that can turn your desert into flour.
But your world and mine - so far apart
still joined together at the heart. 2000
STARS
So many stars out there tonight
yet darkness is
complete –
no highway beams
nor roadside shacks -
just stars, bewitching,
each alone
like you and me
spinning our own separate orbits
round the sun. 2001
ABOVE THE CLOUDS
I cannot see you above the clouds
but I hear you and
feel you roaring away from me.
1998
IRISH EYES
I had a dream last night - the best dream of my life
touring towns and by-ways of Ireland with my wife.
Travelling with the young men who live close to the
border
playing against the soldier boys supplying stuff to order.
Then lunch was in an Irish bar with old boys sharing
craic
a pint or two of the black stuff before we’re heading
back
to the fields of dancing horses to our cottage near the
lake
where we meet with friends and relatives, serving tea and cake.
Each one sang a song or danced completely in their zone -
when my turn came I entered mine to sing ‘You’ll Never
Walk Alone’.
And just before the dream was spent and while our time
was whiling
I turned towards my wife and saw her Irish eyes were smiling. 2006
WALLED GARDEN
There is a walled garden
where you keep your treasures
warm in the sun,
honeysuckle where bees hum
over tended beds of sweet scented flowers
and caring herbs.
I used to visit to sooth my eyes
refresh my soul breathing perfumed air.
Now I fear to try the door - I even fear to knock
in case you do not answer
in case my way is blocked
in case you fear to open
in case you determine the door
should remain permanently locked. 2005
VIDEOLINK
The video seems all but over -
not sure what it was really about,
now caught up in the VCR
which has chewed and spat it out.
Sometime past we learned the script
and together filmed each shot
but with no rewind or pause control
somehow lost the plot.
I think we’re done
with autocues
- been in those films before -
so if it’s not completely wrecked
could we try perhaps once more? 1985
MOTORCYCLING
When I was a young man I rode a BSA
that glinted and dazzled
throbbed warmly on frosty days
though my fingers would freeze;
glinted and dazzled in summer haze
shirt flapping, hair ruffled by a rebellious breeze.
Sitting deep in black leather, nuzzled against the tank
red and sleek as a plum emblazoned
with a spangled sun caught in the dials,
clocked in whispers the burned-on miles,
hummed a deep scale that rose and fell with the sky
as we rolled over downs
through echoes in early streets
and misty fields of ghosts - a song
of open roads and undiscovered coasts.
Sometimes in dreams appears a dusty machine locked away
unridden in decades,
still gleaming pleading to be heard.
Then, as an engine roars, cruel light breaks in
and I can only ride with the day. 2013
NEW HORIZONS
Your face lingers like perfume,
your voice a soft echo in my darkness;
I breathe your air and play our songs,
hoping a future still lies,
not in disturbed reflections on stagnant pools
nor under bruised and jagged clouds
but following a stream towards
a promise of new horizons. 2008
A KILLING FROST
Morning frost, sharp as the night
just as hard to endure the drive
through freezing fog from dawn
until the sun sinks over the northern plain
like a bullet into the skin of the earth
killing my love all over again. 2004
SINKING
I am sinking with the moon
drowning stars that will not wipe away.
I dive into your portrait
where goes my heart and your eyes
follow me round the room,
a streak of pain across the sky
that sharpens in the gloom. 2004
YOUR AMAZING LIFE
Your life must be amazing, spicy as a curry
if, as your blog suggests your truly greatest worry
your keenest thoughts entrap
is just how shit are JLS and Maria Carey’s crap. 2010
LOST AT SEA
Dark clouds have been building seas
on a roughening swell,
wild winds howling, shrieking
spraying bullets that rip through the sail
pulling me off course
losing all sense of direction -
not sure which way is up,
stars and dreams extinguished
fearing the oncoming dark,
not knowing which way is home. 2005
PINK CLOUDS
Two small pink clouds pass the rising moon
drifting towards a secret rendezvous
where they sing a familiar tune,
cooking a meal for the one I love - come home soon.
2006
ADVANCING DAYS (after
W.Shakespeare)
I will not be told by my mirror that I’m old,
so long as you are live and youthful;
but when I notice the odd line and wrinkle
then perhaps I feel the advancement of my days.
The natural beauty that is you
is the rightful clothing of my heart
which lives in you as yours in me:
So my love, take care
as I will myself for you
protect and tend your heart
as a mother would her child
but when I’m gone, do not for your heart yearn
for when you gave it me long ago
you didn’t ask for its return. 2009
PROVENCE
As you turned to go there were things I should have said,
words on my mind and on my lips but
trapped in amber or as slowly rising bubbles
that would not, could not, break the surface of my smile;
never permitted to cause ripples, not even of pleasure,
but imprisoned for none to hear but my heart.
As you walked away with all your heavy things,
I too was weighed by unsloughable baggage.
I waved, but only autumn sunlight in your hair
noticed and smiled back
returning you to your Mediterranean colours.
Another fragment of memory was tearing loose,
a moment of forever passing –
forever regretted for its impotence,
but remembered as
was that moment years ago
when I knew I loved you, inescapably... 2001
MISSING YOU
Moon is peeping through my window.
I wonder if you too are sleepless, distracted by his face
reminding us we can see each other reflected in his
beaming smile.
And there we are, united for a while, in our waking
dreams. 2003
A LIFE LEFT BEHIND
You would be surprised, I think by this until
you find yourself alive through the life in ones you love
or if by sorry chance you realise
the trail you follow is not leading but driving
piling spent time in useless heaps only to be sifted
for fragments of a life we could have shared.
And so you walk away
hidden now by leaves that have rustled their goodbyes
not knowing how I truly feel as I navigate the skies.
‘.... flying at an altitude 32,000 feet, some turbulence
along the way;
weather at our destination? – difficult to say,
perhaps squally showers, temperature just 3 degrees...’
which really says it all for me. 2001
DUCKS
The sun hidden by grey skies
peeping beneath the blanket of dying day
flushed and embarrassed
slides away.
We don’t touch anymore -
no longer welcome, my skin on your skin
re-routing my fingers,
drawing away.
As day follows day
ducks in a row shot at nightfall
from behind veils of silk
dying away. 1997
IN DARKENED ROOM
Into our darkened room
a street light flits and dances.
Outside, late night calls fade
as morning mists assemble.
There we held each other,
wary, a little scary,
nervously fumbling for the right notes
to match the aching drum of our hearts.
We were young, played with time,
the early rush of spring,
cherry blossom waves that led the way to summer
and the glory of a harvest moon.
And now in our darkened room
street light settles on the cactus and palm,
peeping through blinds
as we hold each other,
caressing now familiar keys;
melodies of experience drift around us
relieving the aching drum of our hearts.
We couldn’t forsee
a summer over far too soon,
an unexpected chill on the way to winter
that froze our mellow moon
which shows its dark side to us still. 1997
REGRETS
Too thinly did I spread my time,
In careless neglect of your ripe moments -
so many chances
from so many seeds
that now, mildew-coated
in barren furrows lie.
From my well-thumbed album
dark and unloved memories seep –
ones I cannot share,
the ones that make of me
a vague disturbance in your sleep,
a shadow on the margin of your dreams,
with no dreams of my own ….
except to be forgiven. 2001
Just a kiss on her cheek is all I need
to send her spinning,
tease her into the open,
something luscious almost edible
in the lingering scented fullness of her
cool yet hot,
the one you want to play for
the one you want to pot. 2010
GALLERY OF DREAMS
I feel a forgotten warmth,
as if these words, seeds of creation
have become children linking us with their love
through cold nights.
I watch them grow
speaking their message and picture you,
glass of ruby wine, lips I knew as mine
with no reminder needed
that those lips with your eyes
conspire to light your face,
capture my wild
desires,
paint pictures I shall never erase
from the gallery of my dreams. 2004
B&Q, or Love among the Shelving
It was in this queue I first met you
In this queue at B&Q.
You looked like you’d had a gutful too
at the back of the queue at B&Q.
I smiled and said
this fine weather’s long overdue -
you said you thought so too
but didn’t expect to spend it in a queue at B&Q.
You looked rather sad. I asked ‘What’s to do?
Not just the queue at B&Q?’
You said ‘What’s it to you?
Then told me your bloke just met an old flame – didn’t
say who,
near the front of the queue at B&Q,
‘He told me straight he’d be back late -
taking her and her kids to the zoo -
left me standing at the back of the queue,
positively dying for the loo -
I’m sure they’ve got one at B&Q’;
I said ‘That’s an unfair unfair ting to do -
leave you in a queue with the shelving and glue
but I’ll mind your trolley while you pop to the loo -
right by the sheds here at B&Q’.
When you got back to the back of the queue
you said this day he was gonna rue, you said
you can play that game too, you said
here’s one effing mess he can’t undo, you said
the next bloody night he can spend in his shed, you said
-
the one he bought new from B&Q.
‘Put up askew when he’d had a few
and between me and you he hadn’t a clue –
that’s my view -
put together with nails and glue -
bit off more than he could chew -
called me a silly moo!
Wouldn’t be told that’s not what you do
with sheds you buy from B&Q.
So the walls don’t quite meet and the door is askew -
like the door in the loo at B&Q which
you can just about view from the back of the queue.
To him I’ve little value -
we’d argue all the way to Timbuctu
and especially here in B&Q.
So for a day or two now I’ve just let him stew
and soon I’ll say, ‘toodle-oo me buckaroo’
for leaving me here talking to you
still at the back of the bloody queue in B&Q’.
‘That’s OK’, I said, ‘Nowt else to do’, I said
‘when like you I’m stuck in a queue at B&Q’.
‘Like me? Really? And I quite like you’, you said.
Perhaps when we’re through we could go for a brew, you
said
bacon butty or two from the man in the van with the
dragon tattoo,
just in view out
in the car park at B&Q,you said,
when we’re through with the queue.
We could go back to my place to hammer and screw
‘cause my shelving is wobbly and my headboard is too.
I’d like that’ you said, ‘Oh and my name is Sue –
short for ‘soon to be single’, that much is true and so,
who are you, standing with me here in the queue at
B&Q?’
‘Customer Service Man, Hugh, how do you do!
Here just to look after you massaging the queue here at
B&Q
though in quieter moments I maintain the loo,
a boring job that attracts so few.
But hey look, no longer at the back of the queue
And only ten or so more in front of you.
And yes, some time for a break I’m due
so we can go for
that brew and a butty or two,
back to your place for a hammer and screw
when you’re through with the queue at B&Q.’
So that is how I first met you
handling your trolley at B&Q,
glad the queue had stretched so far,
as I loaded the shelving into your car. 2012
TALK TO THE WALL
Quizzes and drama, reality shows - the producers have
captured it all
but the TV has swallowed our conversation - may as well talk to the wall. 2010
REMEMBER
Do you remember the days in lovers haze
when we strolled the hills of heather,
crossed the splashing stream in a lazy dream,
to lie beneath the sky?
And the summer dance on the roads of France
when the kids were growing -
the things they said - diamonds in our head,
as they played their games of old?
Can you still recall the wild birds call
And we thought would last forever
the moon-lit night when our love shone bright
and we hugged against the cold?
To the southern lands where we felt the hands
of spirits guide our journey;
unlock the cage within, restore our faith again
and give us dreams to hold.
I remember why through days gone by
I wanted to be near you
see reflected skies in your gentle eyes
and around you arms enfold.
So remember me where a peaceful sea
paints the sand with ripples
and believe that I, timeless as the sky
send you love of purest gold. 2009
THE BEACH
Down on the beach I hunt for a pebble
just like the one I gave you,
to remind me of your ocean eyes,
the smile that lights your face
and shines about you like a halo.
Down on the beach I hunt
but know I’ll find no other.
Those poetic eyes, those lips
that always warm my heart.
Memory, keep them safe and
bring them faithfully back to me
every night that we’re apart. 2005
CINDERELLA,
SUPERMAN AND MISS
I’m going to tell you about my teacher
who’s absolutely brill
she has a really pretty face
and a tan got from Brazil.
Well, one day, doing circle time
we were sitting in the floor
when a new girl appeared at the window
then knocked upon the door.
‘Come in!’ says Miss, dead kindly like.
‘Come in and join our class’.
‘My name is Cinderella’, she said.
‘Have you found my slipper of glass?
‘I lost it going home last night
while running for the bus.
It was almost after midnight
and my mam made such a fuss!
So I’ve come to ask if anyone
found it coming to school.
I’ve been hobbling round the neighbourhood
feeling such a fool.
‘I saw a shoe!’ said Adam,
‘When I was playing in goal -
it was an old and smelly trainer
with dog poo on the sole.’
‘Thanks for sharing that pleasant thought’,
said Miss trying to hide a smile.
‘I’m sure it’ll turn up soon. You’ll see.
Won’t you stay with us a while?’
So Cinderella came inside
to join us for the morning.
We were all having a dead good time
- almost nobody was yawning!
And then, as we were having fruit
another knocked the door.
‘It’s Easter Bunny’ someone said.
Jake said ‘Nope, it’s the Law’.
‘Excuse me Miss!’ a policeman said
‘I’ve got with me this bloke.
He’s found this shoe and he’s asking you
if you know of any folk
who’ve lost a shiny slipper
he says is made of glass
and he wants to see if the slipper fits
any of your class.’
‘Come in!’ says Miss ‘I think we’ve found
the very one for you,
‘cause Cinderella who’s here with us
has gone and lost her shoe’.
She held the slipper daintily
the sunlight through it shone
but when she looked for Cinderella,
like magic, she had gone.
‘Where did she go?’ asked Miss, surprised
‘Has anybody seen her?’
Someone said ‘Perhaps a witch
turned her into a cleaner.’
The PC and bloke with the slipper
were just about to go
when a voice called out after them
‘Please Mister, please don’t go!
Miss hasn’t tried the slipper yet
and though she’s got big feet
you never know cos stranger things
have happened in this street’.
So Miss picked up the shiny shoe
and pushed her toes inside -
the slipper fitted perfectly
and everybody sighed.
At that precise moment
came a great big rush of air.
Everybody gasped to see
Superman standing there.
‘Wow!’ said the class together
‘It’s like in “Arabian Nights”’
except it’s a big guy dressed in blue
with his pants on over his tights’.
Superman goes up to Miss
and says ‘Hiya, honey!
I haven’t come to hear you read
or count your dinner money
but because the slipper fits your foot,
I’ll save you from all strife
and protect you from the hooded claw
and be your bestest mate for life’.
Then the end of lesson bell was rung
Miss thought she was onto a winner -
woke up sudden from her dream and sighed,
‘Right, you lot, off to dinner!’ 2011
MIRROR
I’ll not be told by a mirror I’m old
while you stay young in my eyes.
And how can I really be older than you
when my love is reborn every morning
your beauty re-clothing my heart?
So tell the face in the mirror
I need no such warning -
the time’s not yet right
for my face to scar me with doubt
for love is live within me
and irons my wrinkles out. 2009
DEFLOWERING
We shared a shower
soaped each other for half an hour
windows to the skies;
my fingers tenderly grazed your thighs;
you enjoyed submitting to my power.
Those days are spent as the colour dries
like the bloom of a flower. ` 2010
I WANT TO RUN AWAY
WITH YOU
I want to run away with you back to those western plains
-
no sad songs on the radio, no mandolin rains.
I cannot watch you go again - I cannot bear those eyes
as you turned and drove away when we said our last
goodbyes.
I want to run away with you to a land I know so well,
a heart-shaped land that blooms with love
but without you…. It’s cold as hell. 2006
REBIRTH
It was different then -
summers dripped
through our fingers,
the cool and shade, shimmering colours,
the dazzling of the vibrant and new
our days everlasting
rescued from a
well of mist,
haloed memories
we pray will never die, now
given the chance to live again
reborn with a baby’s cry. 1999
STAR-RISE
So hard to love and leave you
after all we’ve been through
but I know that you still love me
just as much as I love you.
To my darkness comes a moonflower
the night its soothing beams
shine upon my pillow
where your picture paints my dreams.
And so the days pass quickly
you make the grey clouds fly
and with the star-rise of the evening
I have memories to find you by. 2006
CLOUD
Today is the day I become a cloud;
as I form and reform in the sky
watch for me and know
I will never truly disappear. 2010
STILL
No cloud drift
nor leaf fall
no change of light
nor shadow creep
no ground thaw
nor stirring in the glazed grass
not a bird-trembled leaf
nor faintest chirp nor feather
no hum, nor throb
no pulse, nor sob
Just still!
Frozen sun locked in frozen sky.
only the timid curling of my breath
dares form the question,
as I remember you,
Still. 1999
THE OTHER SIDE
Was it you
looking in through my lace curtain,
watching me from your new world
of benevolent mystery?
It’s sad, this shift
that’s put us apart
and yet when I contemplate my heart
you are there
my constant guide
visible in the flesh
beloved in spirit
sharing my heart.
We’ve been changed
or have we been changing,
evolving as we should?
Either way, I don’t feel the same -
perhaps we’ll meet again on the other side
and share a Mars bar. 1993
IF I HAD TWO
HEARTS
If my eyes were keener and could see inside your mind
I wonder, would my heart be there and would your heart be
kind.
If my arms were stronger I’d wrap them round you tight
lift you from deep waters and monsters of the night.
And if my legs were stronger and could walk for hours and
hours
I’d bear you off to a woodland glade and garland you with
flowers.
And if my hands were twice as soft like washing up with
Fairy
I’d caress your body gently even if your legs were hairy.
And if my ears were so acute though far apart I’d keep
to your gentle breathing, listening while you sleep.
And if my lips were sweet enough to attract you with a
snog
I’d shower your face with kisses - make a prince out of
this frog.
And if my blood ran hot enough your chilled heart I would
thaw
though if I had two great big hearts I could not love you
more.
2003
THOUGHTLESSLY ME!
Never thought I’d get the
chance to gaze into your eyes.
Never thought together we
would see the morning rise.
Always thought when I met
someone I’d have to compromise
watch the fair clouds drift
away leaving only leaden skies.
Never thought I’d understand the
thoughts inside your mind.
Never thought that you’d read
mine, my words unsaid – unkind.
Always thought when I met
someone they’d soon leave me behind
to join the beautiful people, my
solitude defined.
Now I know I have the chance though
not the perfect man.
Now I know you want me, and
accept me as I am.
Only ever wanted to include
you in my plan
fighting for your corner to be
the best I can 2003
MILD AND BITTER
We said we’d spend our lives together,
never cheat or lie,
but you took me to the cleaners
then hung me out to dry.
I gave you almost everything
except my ‘Stones’ LPs;
you didn’t want them anyway -
they reminded you of me.
My friends said you were heartless -
yet still I gave you mine,
but you swapped it at the butcher’s
for the six-pack of a swine.
So, if you ever need a heart
don’t crawl back to me!
Mince on down to your butcher friend
And get a full mixed grill for free! 1991
SAILING
Though we sail most everywhere together
there are secrets you cannot know
in whose darkest
caves and caverns
I need you not to go.
And yet you harbour a holy love
which denies that love is cruel
allowing me to navigate
the squalls that congregate beyond
your calm and sheltered pool. 1984
JUST SLIPPED
AWAY
You slipped away - just slipped away, they said.
Earth sighed when your last breath escaped.
Not so old, you were always going to be there.
And all the while my video replays,
the voices in my head are yours.
I must select a place, a glade cool with spring flowers
or a sunny bank bright with morning birds,
Or intimate with the passing chat of the world.
Or does it matter? -
who you were means so much more
but you slipped away, just slipped away. 2003
STRANDED
The ferry ploughs the river where a lonely seagull
screams
for the cranes that were blown up yesterday;
a mighty ebb tide streams past abandoned sandstone
slipway
where I unfurled you to the wind and now am feeling stranded
for you carried off my dreams.
The ferry ploughs regardless, no passengers it seems,
lost her sense of purpose like a book of weathered
themes. 2003
RETIRING TO THE
SEA
We’ve both got the key to a cosy seaside cottage;
if you throw the switch, I can supply the wattage! 2002
XV
When in deep contemplation
I recall the past,
regretful of many things desired but never found,
I admit to a fruitless waste of time
regretting anew life’s losses.
Yet, though not prone to tears, I shed a few -
for dear friends gone forever,
reliving old grief, lost love.
Then I revisit old wounds
grieve once more and bemoan my lot
as if I had never grieved before;
but in so doing I remember you, dear friend,
all my losses restored
and all my sorrows forgot. 2009
A reworking of a
Shakespearean sonnet as a study piece, just to see if it was do-able.
TO MY DAD
What was it that woke you
-
a dripping tap, creak on the stair
an owl beyond your window
too –wooing to the pain in your heart?
We lost you that night unknowing.
What was I doing?
Were there signs I failed to read
in my faithless dreams.
A thunderclap from heaven should have woken me,
your guardian angel should have struck my face -
I who should have found you.
Since that night all has quietly crumbled –
the cost of a farewell we never had.
Alone you bore pain, now I bear mine, alone.
Who now to turn to
about to dive into shallow water?
But then your greatness was letting us decide
playing with the rules - occasionally stretching them,
you the sounding board, the feasibility analyst
who perhaps despairing of this world,
was reconciled to the step beyond.
I can’t believe you’re ten years gone -
you’d be surprised how short my Christmas list has
become!
2012
YOUR TIMELESS
JOURNEY
The glouping brown tide lapped the slipway
sucking at the cobbles, wavelets frantic,
spattered by the squally breeze heavy with tears
and grey cloud on this of all days.
The Liver Birds shone like buckles
as a blue gash opened and a shaft of light
sent condolences from heaven.
‘Can he really be gone?’ asked the disbelieving wind
‘Another brick fallen from the wall’ cried the Old Shore.
‘ Soon it will all come tumbling down and
then we’ll be
sorry indeed.’
Too suddenly you were taken,
spun and whisked away by the wind’s nimble fingers
far out into mid-river.
‘Don’t go out of your depth’, you used to call.
The ferry slowed, doffing its cap as it turned in
mid-river
then chugged for home. ‘Can he really be gone?’
I turned to go down past the shore you knew as a boy.
the shipyards where cranes hung their heads,
past the landing stage and clanking gangway
you crossed each day to work,
salt smell and tallow, soot and chimney stacks.
To Perch Rock sands where we played pirates
seeking treasure in rock pools
and out, out where the waters of the bay mingle
with memories - those great majestic liners
that will travel forever the oceans of the world.
Down along the shore you knew as a boy
past the shipyard where the cranes still hang their heads,
and the old wooden landing stage groans its grief.
Here you crossed each day to the tang of the sea.
On past the old fort where we played pirates
seeking treasure in the rock pools
and out, where waters of the bay mingle
with the memories of all those majestic liners,
that now travel forever the oceans of the world.
On February 8th 2003 I scattered my dad’s
ashes into the Mersey from Rock Ferry pier, a stone’s throw from the streets where
he grew up. Apart from the wind and the
wave, I was alone with my thoughts , hoping and praying this would be a fitting
farewell.
FORMULA 1
Displayed in splendour on the grid –
pole position in my heart,
engines revving with desire
I knew I loved her from the start.
I watched her shake her flaxen hair,
put on her shining helmet,
climb into her bright red car
her leather skirt like a pelmet.
I followed close through the chicane,
sleek curves admired from behind,
dazzled by twin carb beauty,
steering madly, gladly, blind.
Calling at every pit stop –
Oh, to be her oily rag;
change of attire, in hot pursuit
to reach her before the chequered flag.
Oh, to lap her in the final straight –
feel distance between us diminish,
motor sound, all wheels on the ground
driving for a grandstand finish. 2011
DREAMLAND
Uncontrollable footsteps carried me
to find a light beside a bed.
I saw the open window,
imagined her sweetly tangled head,
those soft lips – were they smiling?
The joy of going forward,
repeating words we’d said,
waiting on a dream. 2012
GUILTY
This slow irreparable sickness
congealing in my throat.
From a silver tray a serving of raw meat
to feed the deadly tightening of the heart
In waves that repeatedly wash around my feet
threatening daylight forever. 2013
MY MAGIC CANDLE
The days between us - a line of candles
stretching back to that first dawn.
The setting sun snuffs each one
and in that death
a deep and painful longing
congeals around my heart.
In my blackest moments
I have called your name,
your candle re-ignites
and, like your eyes
floods my darkest hours,
splitting the night
sweeping brooding shadows
back to dismal corners
filling me with your light and life.
And then I reassure myself,
as I have always known,
that wherever I may be,
whatever I may become
you will always be
my magic candle.
NO DIRECTION HOME
I left a me-shaped hollow by your side
from a shifting of our plates
about some ocean divide
sending breakers to opposing shores
where we lie alone
a me-shaped hollow by your side,
a you-shaped hollow by mine
and no direction home.
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