Poetry

Friday, 2 November 2018

Woodland lane

Woodland rain of brown leaves
Coal tits feign and turn with speed
Little gains, little needs
Pirates of the Oak trees

Seeing all amid dropping
Paper brown crowns
From once proud branches
Flitting in and out the hedges
Beside the woodland lane


Bones

We are all bones
Jiggling to the same life tune
Some move faster than others
Some have more rhythm
And others suffer
But that is the field of undying loneliness
And Strife
That makes up the stuff
Of life

The Name of the Pub

There was a kind of sickness of mind evident in the corroborative clause
A negotiation with the truth that led all right speaking minds to contest
The best thing in the universe
Was still sliced bread
Nothing had swallowed the shallow shoals of undermining burnished levy breakers more than had the sun
That's not its name, that's not its name
They call it Red Lion, they call it white horse
They call it traveler's rest
That's not its name

Its in the name of the pub
is that place where you rub up against
Others bones
Old pig and slaughter
Th Arabian daughter
The knight who atones
The Royal Oak or little turtle
A fine resort, a brittle portal
Into unknown fields of words
Its all in the name of the pub

What's its name we were there last night
I lost my glasses, we had a fight
A bottle was broken so was a tooth
I went home, I forget in truth
The best times of my life
Are hidden beneath
The skin I clean each evening
And the carpet I hide underneath

Skin Deep
The skinny dipper
The old piper
The strong canoodler
Armstrong,
The Millers arm
The Ram's head
The Queens head
Cock and Bull
All the foreign inter pole pull

Sudden remembrances of France in a salty sea breeze
The old wives tale
Sailor's rest
4 in the morning a mast, a test
A broken token,
 A swinging emblem
Folded
Bespoken by the bride's trial

River Song

I heard singing from the mouth of ears
I saw things thronging, going south for years
Brought my song singing to the river of tears
I heard singing from the mouth of ears

I saw winging slings in quivering fears
Held counsel with great men and seers
Who said somethings wrong
When I said what? they sneered
When I heard singing from the mouth of ears

I brought my wrong to the sandy shores
Shored my heart like a boat with oars
Heard my bong beat foxes, shoot boars
As my dogs run on through the woodland wars

I saw the birds flock and stir
In the sky, full of stockings and pearls
Whirling above the currents that curl
When I heard the song from the River of the World

The mouth was open, but it could not speak
The ears were wide but to hear they were weak
And it ran on, I did not listen to the creak
Of the doors that open, every day of the week

Every minute the river is talking to us
Every wave that is broken
Each one made whole in trust
Like messages spoken
It's sent with love
Let it wash its token
Its voice's calm hush

Friday, 19 October 2018

Moon song

There's a big moon rising
like a pale horse in the swamp
There's a dead moon rising
Like the bones of those I've loved

There's a new moon rising
In the ashes of the heavens above

There's sad moon rising
Saying what it needs to say
About the sun and its horizon
At the closing of the day

There's a faint star and its sparkling
In the crystal clear dark night
Far from all the fighting
Of the tribes of wrong and right

Saturday, 13 October 2018

Love poem

You know I'm sad to say it, and it is probably true
There are no two ways of it
I fell in love with you

They know it in the fields, as they go about their work
Even making hay with it, its like the shadow of a hawk

The cat and mouse play of it, sad but its true
There's a brick wall made of it
I fell off it into you

Some may rant and rave of it
Some may stand and queue
But I can't afford to wait for it
So I fell in love with you

The turkey's run away with it
The roosters always crew
So I thought I'd make a day of it
When I fell in love with you

I'm standing in the green grass
But above the sky is blue
And the sun is golden as a gas
Lamp burning love for you

I've run the clock, and turned the stile
Stuck between a rock and a hard place for a while
I've seen a face longing for a smile
Then in an act of grace, I was lifted from the pile

There are not too many times
I can say I knew
But when you feel it in your veins
You know it must be true
Call at my door, listen for the chime
It rings one time or maybe two
Then you answer and guessing game is through

The opportunity is taken
The bird's wing is broken
But once it flew
I will keep it not as a token
Just as a promise left unspoken
Or some secret I know is true
When I fell in love with you


Love Song

Freedom is the great retainer,
Bold new reasons for a justified remainer
Earning crust in a lip less land
Where lovers walk hand in hand
Sharks and storks, stalk the sand
Following currents of words

Following currents of words
And grape vines of news
Berries like snippets of information
Pipettes of a muse

Love is pigeons freed
And tying me up
Only to let me go
Love are the dying leaves
On the pavement
Where builders have scored
Their lines in old cement
For plans of ill pursuit
Plans of ill pursuit

Love is the I
The spit in the Eye
That makes you get up and try
Some more each morning
It is the bitterness of dawn
When you realize she's not there
Or when you forget she was even there
Or when money surrounds your thoughts like sharks in a calm lagoon
Spoiling your fun
Like pricking your thumb
On the needle of the loom
Like focusing on the sun
With one
Eye on the moon
Hoping it will work out one day when you're too old
To climb a dune
Like in an American movie
Where they all eat apple pie
But they never show the apple pickers
Nor the millers working
Their fingers to the bone
To give you flour in your home
For 5 cents an hour
Down in old Mexico

Hollywood sweet bread rules the
City arcades
It is in the faces of the charades
The hopes of young girls and boys
Who would have been better off playing with toys
Than joining the real world so soon