Sunday, January 28, 2007

be quiet

nothing wrong
with silence -
being still

you can
be silent
and still
be there

Friday, January 26, 2007

Measure 4 Measure

Father Manic Priest
shouted at the frightened class.
He hurled himself into a corner,
flung an arm, hand, against the wall.
"They nailed one hand There!"
Ran to the other corner of the room.
"They nailed the other hand - There!!"

Father Nails-Holding-Up-Braces,
he as Parish Priest, was Number 1.
"Make sure you count money
at least three times - if you get
the same sum twice, you're OK.

Father Lean-As-A-Rake,
counted Lent by the ounces.
Gave a basic sentence of 3
Glory Be's, Hail Mary's, Our Father's.

Father Melodeon had four eyes
in his head, to left, to right
and they met in the middle,
in an un-priestly grin and
not that far off the ground.

Sip, rinse, spit...

Maybe freedom
comes in two flavours:
freedom from
and
freedom to...

Sip, rinse, spit...

deferred?

what is the attraction
in a dream deferred?
well it does seem to grab
in a sprung laid back kind of way.

i defer
you defer
he does, she does,
it does - surprisingly sometimes
we don't,
you don't
they never do, do they...

so i'll defer
'n dream...
you do what you want
maybe we'll realise,
know, no,
maybe some other day...

Friday, January 19, 2007

Train Of Thought

A sunny evening,
outside the Hope and Anchor,
and I was twenty-two.
Swelled with London Pride

looked across the Lea,
where nearly green fields
met marching pylons,
thought "I like this sort of scene".

Now Hugh Masekela hammers
rod on iron in the spotlight,
hammering a South Africa choo
chewing men into the mines.

He remembers all those deaths,
some of those little victories,
and those few men who rose above
it all - many with no names.

Mandela, like a sign of the cross,
stands on top of the hill.
But the fields around are full
of tyres and crosses.

And x marks the spot head
or foot meets ball and shoots
over the line of human dignity.
Or figures with grace on ice,

or dance floor, of course.

Sunday, January 14, 2007

Face in the water

A bottle of whiskey.
Yes, I promised Alan that
if he could teach me to swim.

Glide!
Streamlined, like sharks,
arms straight ahead,
hands pointed front,
legs straight,
feet pointed back.

With more confidence,
less panic,
more lung control,
we could kick off the side -
in the shallow end, of course,
and usually get to the other side.
Or just stand up, splutter, and laugh.

It even worked, eventually,
lenthwise in the pool -
swimming towards the shallow end,
of course.
When we relaxed, we could glide well
over half way, before cocking it up
trying to make strokes.

So, yes, here I go again:
kicking off from the side.
But at least I know I can write
doggy-paddle.

Homework

I chose the cardboard box
the one a christmas pudding
and sauternes came in.
Snipped it with scissors,
stuck it with glue,
into a cube.
This was to become a liquorice
all-sort,
a model,
for school - you do understand?

Then a coating of lining paper,
a painting of lines - white,
orangey brown and black.
My sense of colour isn't strong, but I
do remember the taste and texture
layer
by
layer.

For some reason "packaging" was required,
nothing to do with the all-sorts,
but still for technology -
tomorrow being Monday...

Just as well we have a recycle bin -
the pizza box, butter paper, tomato
wrapping, and other assorted clutter,
will really be recycled into education

and I hope all the driving to rehearsals
will be put to good use for the Hugh
Masekela performance at the Roundhouse.

flame

The universe, even Earth,
has been around a long, long time.

The little things we call Mankind
last but a beat of a moth's wing.

We smear the surface of the earth
and foul the air.

Arrogance does not persist.

Friday, January 12, 2007

Thursday, January 11, 2007

Fork x-ism

Spread the word

Fork Baghdad

Tripped over
the hoover
in the front room

Noticed
heavy duty fork
in the DIY shop

Dubya
tripping soil
in Iraq

bang blang
bloom boom