Ah. Sad story
Ah. Sad story.
Stole the ruby eye of an idol
from the foyer
of a Punjabi cinema..
He was -
dragged out by the ushers..
Good God the screams..
Mad as a bat now of course
His poor sister
married my batman
Made an honest woman of her
Liddel his name was..
went out to Swaziland
to fight Johnny Boer
sad story
caught by the fuzzy-wuzzies
assegai up the jacksi
you know the drill
they tied him up
put him in a termite mound
74 days
sucked the dew
from the anus
of the termite queen
48 stone when he burst the hill
We rolled him back to the boat
whalebone-white and shiny
as a lychee flavoured jellybaby.
mad as a box of frogs of course
The poor woman
He had a way with bees after that though
Kept a bee farm
out all night they were
both of them, bandy-legged
backs of hands on hips
buzz buzz
dancing for the drones
under the starfields of Surrey
Scent of mimosa
Ahh....
baboon-punching mad of course
- but happy.
--------------------------------------------------
Earlier I breathed a sigh
Earlier I breathed a sigh thinking of you
And turning away
I breasted the heavy air
to curling turbulence
As I walked.
So tired..
This afternoon a pigeon
Flying low above the market
Is buffeted then sythes above us,
On the pavements dry leaves scuttle,
A carrier bag caught up in a dance invisible
Reminding me of your favourite film, my love.
Was that my breeze I wondered
But come back big
Heralded by windskeeters
To tell me that the dancers
can you see them?
had gathered and sailed the clouds
Like a tumbling armarda
And found you.
And found you.
--------------------------------------------------
Remembering DT's
Lost in the hushed moment;
A lift moving sideways,
A man falls
Upwards, without reference.
I'm not sure why every
Thing in the room is still.
Once, I remember, ornaments
Waltzed nightlong on the shelves;
Playing cards and matchsticks
Clicked up the walls
And Medea
Endlessly dragged the same child
To the foot of my bed.
Today, I find myself surrounded
By figures carved and cast
Like clockwork automata
Waiting for the twist
Of a key.
--------------------------------------------------
The Balloon
A Mandarin,
Skullcap and robes of scaled shagreen,
Directing deep-sea divers on a wharf.
Brass helmets twisting tight, air hoses
Cabled in coils across the pitted concrete.
Rings flash sun sparkle on his taloned hand
As he points at the plastic yellow hammerheads
That churn the muddy waters of the quay.
Suspended in a halter of chains
From a rusty looming crane above them,
A War Elephant, gold capped tusks
And idiot treetrunk legs, swings and struggles.
It's pig eye rolls white with panic, quickening
The heart of a small boy with an ice cream
Far below. Seagulls wheel and scream.
Beneath in the swaying depths, In a drift
Of decomposing fish and oily teddybears,
A stained glass suit of armour stands alone
On the seabed. Pulsating squirming octupi
Glow and struggle within it; a half life.
Broken lightbulbs litter the ocean floor.
Should one look upwards, a sparkle,
A dazzle of sunsmash rides the waves.
Idly I review the scene from the viewpoint
Of an ornate gilt and painted gondola
Hung beneath a failing balloon.
--------------------------------------------------
This Sunday Morning
This Sunday Morning
Awakening from a dream
I'm inside
My hutch of mute wonders.
Burnished gold, patinaed plastic
Self conscious junk; my space.
I'm inside
Hessian cobwebs of dream, inside;
My stepfather is inside my car,
Soaked in petrol, soundlessly
Shouting, angry, unreal;
I'm inside
A dream, cobwebs, unreal,
I'm inside a girl,
A girl like a pliant corpse,
Doll-like, on a flat bright
Whitewashed roof
Under the memory of a blue
Spanish sky.
She watches us, [critical perhaps?]
From a window in the sky.
An unopened letter,
Church bells,
Stillness,
Wisdom of cat's eyes.
I'm inside.
It's quiet inside; a distance,
A gentleness
Of madness, and blindness,
And astonishment of heart.
--------------------------------------------------
Come Closer
Come Closer
And look between
The fingers
Of my cupped hands,
And glimpse
The Headsman's Axe
[A butterfly?]
That nestles there;
The glittering
ground fullness
Of it's heavy crescent
[It's tightly coiled tongue]
Pressing into
Plump skin whorls,
Dark dreaming,
Blood pounding
[It's powder wings beating]
Heartbeat in a
[insect legs arched, tracing..]
Claustrophobic song of
[It's prism eyes..]
The red veiled womb of
[..faceted blue, green, gold.]
My two cupped hands.
Listen.
It wants to fly away.
--------------------------------------------------
Here at the Bright Bridge
Here at the Bright Bridge
The Seven Lords of Xanga
Each with a crown shard
I am Old Mars
Lit by the rainbow’s soft fire
Mustering my troops.
A thousand thousand,
My septenary await
The flash of my sword
Other mounted Lords
Greeted by rolling thunder
Hold their sigil high
A tide of people
Horizon to horizon
Flows towards world’s edge
A shimmering arch
spans the starry deep below
We cross Rainbow Bridge
On the Other Side
Green fields, fountains, waterfalls,
We leave our costumes
Breathe, take our first steps
in the Many-Coloured Land
Where all roads lead home.
A motto for you; -
‘Lux et umbra Vicissim
Sed semper amor’.
--------------------------------------------------
Sometimes a rainbow
Sometimes a rainbow
Comes as a gift
Arching the slate sky
When you thought you couldn’t go on
You feel an opening, a shift
As Hope is reborn in the world
And then
You walk forwards
.
Then there’s the times that
There Must have been rainbows
But you didn’t turn that corner
And it blazed unseen
.
Right now, just over there
A few hills away
Quietly perhaps
She is standing
--------------------------------------------------
The Steamroller
If the steamroller hadn't been
That particular shade of
Uncompromising nursery yellow,
Hard edged pastel gloss,
Nightmare bright,
Jaundiced enamel,
Fever yellow,
My mind would not be
So restless and uneasy.
What colour is a scream?
--------------------------------------------------
You Woman
You Woman
A real one
Not just glued together
At the knees and elbows
You Woman
Tiger-mother
Fierce in love and hurt
You Alpha-woman
Beloved by dogs
Who gives bitch
And bravado their
Night-time milk
You Woman
Warrior-princess
Who I would kill for
The first ten at least
And you’ll take the rest
As I go under
You Woman
Conscientious in work
Sitting with the crazed
The damaged
The survivors
A mirror with a beating heart
You Woman
So clear on Thursday
I was so proud as you talked
Of the self-honesty needed
To be in now.
Your words finger
Like water through a dusty land
So clear, so clear.
You Woman
Who does too much
Too much to do
Driving
Driven
Touched by the spectres
Of hopelessness
And up early the next day
You Woman
Built with integrity
God-made as a needle
Pointing to truth
Who cannot lie to herself
Though it would be easier
Who has a difficult path
That sometimes seems to me impossible
For a person to bear
You support life
You Woman
Alive and alive
Swept up on the back
Of a hippogriff
Who reads the bloody reading
Every day
Who I admire
More than any person
or creature that I know
I hold my heart out to you
As you hold out yours
You Woman
Will you dance with me?
Because
I fucking love you
