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10 October 1996
Every band began with 'The'
(Monkees, Beach Boys, Jackson Five,
Miracles and Rolling Stones,
Kinks and Tremeloes and Who...
Imbuing my dormant being
Feelings and desires.
but not understanding
We yelled the lyrics
out across the sea.
A dark brown voice
drawled, naughty and illicit,
not telling how? when? where?
Implied. Much sexier than explicit,
goading experience passing us by.
Who were we in the sixties?
Bloody but unbowed?
Innocent and loud.
12 October 1996
I'm always the one behind
The blind in pursuit of the blind
The one to soothe all ills
Not the causation, just the salve-ation
The one who will listen to you.
Never the one to win prizes
(or be overcome with surprises)
If I wear a hair shirt
nobody will smirk
cast me in the dirt
or faint at my innovation.
I only wish
to be heartless
shouting obscenities to prove my point.
But I'm only the one behind
the one who stays in your mind
the one in stilettos
destroyer of egos
careless of sorrow
no thought for tomorrow
charisma and manner
a guaranteed winner
creator of heartache
(can't you see it, for God's sake?)
Here you go! Help yourself to my skill.
I'm rearranging your pieces.
My purpose is plain ~
destined to remain
wise after your event.
carer not careless
cheerer not cheerless
solid not soul-less
mender not breaker
anchor not iceberg
blind, in pursuit of the blind.
12 August 1997
A Poem is a Poem is a Poem
You can't complain
about the grammar and the syntax
in a poem
the vocab. and errata two, as well
the fact that it goes
non-stop, full stop.
A poem just is.
13 August 1997
I am not an axe-murderer;
whoring priest, cheating on blind faith;
I do not have women 'on the side';
I do not deprive folk of their savings;
I do not take rich men 'for a ride';
I do not drive recklessly abandoned;
I do not sit telling of your woes
(gleefully recounting all your exploits ~
please continue sucking bald men's toes);
I do not hate children, dogs, town pigeons...
It's very plain to see.
I'm the one who pollutes all your being.
I am the smoker.
Point your finger at ... me.
27 March 1998
I write to people.
I write to people, in poetry.
They do not reply.
I write, to people in poetry.
They do not reply.
I write, do not reply.
Do not reply.
8 April 1998
Cucumber (for Alex)
Queue for cucumbers, today:
Long ones, short ones, bent and curled ones;
Loud ones, shy ones, meek and mild ones;
Bitter, thick-skinned, evil (vile) ones;
Sad ones, bad ones, 'All we had' ones;
Queue for cucumbers, today.
4 September 1998
They are hacking people to pieces in Slough.
4 September 1998
I pour myself a cocoa
erase all your numbers from my memory
estrange your digits and expunge all traces of your being
Woman, stop that quivering, now.
19 October 1998
I do not sense the pain that Nature feels
when, casting proud her beauty through the land,
Mere man, wth empty heart and heavy wheels,
rubs all her statements out with careless hand.
I do not know how mothers bear their grief
as youth and children from sure arms are torn;
Mere man, with empty soul and heavy guns,
wipes out the promise of another dawn.
I do not think to change the status quo;
God's purpose plain is murky still to me.
A life full-lived, hope full-cupped, all we own;
Future's warehouse, a store we may not see.
To share with those who teach me how to be;
Life, such as it is, is all in all to me.
3 November 1998
(what's the plural of 'haiku'?)
raspberry still you
cling to cane beyond your time
a message there for all
a swallow late
catching the last of summer
pebble at the edge
near the sweep of cooling stream
winking in the sun
moonbeam icy light
through the window shattering
fragments on the floor
roses still their petals
hold against the wind and rain
saving beauty whole
23 November 1998
Baptism of Rhyme
A poetry reading. Now there's a thing.
My only memory of such goes back three decades.
While others mourn the passing of the Beatles
I discover Blake. His words spoken by a Bard
with furze for a face and eyes limpid and hypnotic.
In my innocence, I listen; while his experience
rolls over and under and through.
He never knew.
17 November 2001
alex finally sleeps
his early laughter sounding like a chicken
afraid of nothing
consoling the fearful
accepting of all
taller than me
voice deep as an ocean
dismissive of care
eyebrows black as soot
dependent on Brylcreem wax and OXYgen
and a relentless supply of phone cards and food
my son sleeps
1 May 2002
Drying imbetween my toes
Fresh out of the bath.
Small boy kicks his ball across the green.
Tender young leaves shiver in the breeze.
Bird of prey, too high to name, in the sky.
'Watching Brazil' papers the silence.
And the frozen chicken awaits its fate.
It's May again.
27 May 2002
This Old House
I read a book when I was small.
Nora Lofts, as I recall.
'Bless This House'.
It told the tale
of how a house can draw
a line of folk
linked by ties unmapped by blood;
How people fuse
by bonds other than Will;
and Will can be an empty threat;
and Purpose other than design.
I should have paid attention.
A house will draw a similarity
~ a likeness ~ to all those gone before.
We bought a house from pleasant folk.
They had two boys
(and then a girl, when once they'd left)
but none of this was to our design.
Not in our plan, you understand?
And so our son was born.
The seasons passed.
We got a dog ~ or two ~
we poodled on. We never knew
a new house, round the corner,
would lead to one new boy.
And so it did.
and several cats
a dog ~ or two ~
and hamsters (God forbid)
and kittens (neat)
and more cats (sweet)
(she smiles - in memory)
Traveller on the Super Highway 6 July 2003
'Look on the Web', I'm told everywhere.
'Email' and 'webpage' and 'Netnerds' and stuff. Is there a map?
No need for walking boots, packed lunch/compass
if I lose my way. At the end of the day,
No need to backtrack,
I can turn off my PC and seeth.
WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?
I'm not an elephant, scared of her mouse.
First, type in my search string, on 'dogpile.com'
(is that co dot uk or dot com?)
Brings up - 'caesarian birth Bulletin Board'
and 'Carlisle United Chat Log'....
and what's this?
I'll show you the link.
Ctrl C - Ctrl V
... OIC Oh I See OTOH On The Other Hand PMFJI Pardon Me For Jumping In PC Politically Correct or Personal Computer PI or PIC Politically Incorrect PITA Pain In The Arse POV Point Of View RL Real Life ROFL Rolling On the Floor Laughing RAOFLMAO Rolling Around On the Floor Laughing My Arse Off ... http://www.asylvm.f9.co.uk/chat.html
Chatrooms chat in a language I don't understand:
AFAIK GMTA. IDTS 'As far as I know' 'Great minds think alike'. 'I don't think so'
IMHO,WYSIWYGs a PITA 'In my humble opinion', 'What you see is what you get's a 'Pain in the ass'
LOL WTHDTM 'LOL'. 'What the hell does that mean'?
Less Of Lip, or Little Old Lady
Lawyers On Line, or Language Of Lit.
Life Of the Land, or Loss Of Life
Lots Of Laughs, or Loads Of Laughs
Lots Of Love, or Lunatics On Line
or a mixture of both, Love On Line
Lewd Obscene Language and Lots Of Lag
but, most of all,
Laugh Out Loud.
TTFN TTYL AFK 'Ta Ta For Now' 'Talk To You Later' 'Away From Keyboard'
I've got to go make my tea.
It's not my cup of tea.
Selection of Vol. II @ Going Down the White Hill - Poems 1989 - 1996
Selection of Vol. I @ 'I Find My Way' - Poems 1968 - 1976
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