HAYLE or Polzeath (December 2015)
now the sea is come
flagged men push back their vows
and gulls weight on sited rock
so the odd man potters
and gallery binds
the frosted still window
but the caravan where the woman lives
fox bothered in minus 7
runs to summer
RAZED (N.Yorkshire 2018)
Corn stalks shiver
bowed by the rain
and the hairs on your naked arm
bowed by the rain
and the hairs on your naked arm
Christmas Greetings (London 2019)
The flap of a wood pigeon's wing
the clapping of a lonely human
a bullet mark across silent skies
Drone (London, 2017)
From the scarred rock
bomb blasted into a man-made grave
the sun hides not.
And the eagle sang
plummeting to earth.
Now a boy's hand
gripping the rim of a sledge in winter
lies rigid frail as a snowflake and as pale.
It is the witness in this death knell
where bluebell bulbs push through flesh.
Many moons ago
I once saw a dark leaf hurt
it ran to tears in the rain
and shrank from my touch
atrocities make cities indignant
but they do not know them
we rarely rise to meet death properly
bomb blasted into a man-made grave
the sun hides not.
And the eagle sang
plummeting to earth.
Now a boy's hand
gripping the rim of a sledge in winter
lies rigid frail as a snowflake and as pale.
It is the witness in this death knell
where bluebell bulbs push through flesh.
Many moons ago
I once saw a dark leaf hurt
it ran to tears in the rain
and shrank from my touch
atrocities make cities indignant
but they do not know them
we rarely rise to meet death properly
Harare (London 2016)
Which
like ashified time
and fallen off years
I dream of.
Sadness war cries
my horizon and
dagger stabs my skin.
Beneath a whirring fan
which blows your tears
my hands shape comfort,
holding air.
You are a ghost of
a memory I never had,
leaving no trace on your face
even though now
is all the time there is-
everything runs riot.
for 8
like ashified time
and fallen off years
I dream of.
Sadness war cries
my horizon and
dagger stabs my skin.
Beneath a whirring fan
which blows your tears
my hands shape comfort,
holding air.
You are a ghost of
a memory I never had,
leaving no trace on your face
even though now
is all the time there is-
everything runs riot.
for 8