Poetry

Monday, 20 March 2023

The fox

 The fox stalked across the field in the late afternoon light

A ragged and thread bare specimen, ravaged from the cruel cold winter
That lengthened into February
He stops looks round searchingly
Yet distracted, somehow fidgeting with his own dire experience
His own state of affairs
My mother points out the starlings swooping above him as they ready to roost
Among the levels further down along the reeds
The fox moves sleekly, slinking like a chain of bones concertinaing
And then squats to lay his scent or shit
I have almost lost interest as he becomes the grey of sky, the brown and pale yellows of winter hedgerows
May be he was the fox that ate our chickens I say to my mother
All those years ago

He is an intruder, yet somehow respected for his cleverness despite this. And I feel somehow very safe and sanitized in this my mother’s house but seeing him also vulnerable. Like seeing a thief from behind the confines of a ‘CCTV’ camera – catching him in the act. It is the interest in his survival, his spirit and hut spa. Confidence in wildness, somehow he will always be there, in the back of your mind.

Desert

I guess I should explain that the desert is cold
You'd have thought it would've been hotter
But it's out of this world
When the sun goes down there's no sense in being bold
Just bury yourself in the warm desert sand
And don't emerge again til you're old

Medley o

 For sometimes the dust mouse

With the balloon legs flies

And jars against the corners of coroners

Who are borrowing rainbows from wet skies

And velvet like a jet plane

That too smoothly

Leads the pop charts

In Rocket man serenades

Of American football players

As I empty my conscious mind on the page

And jollop of the trollop

Who with Anthony now pays

For his term in Hell

As berms like barrows swell

With ever more victims

Of Anglo Saxon descent

On cut corner garages

Where the fuel pipe is spent

By Alpha males who drive oil trucks

And dig the graves of otters

Who sereptiously at nightcall up their mothers

That twinly like the windmills

On Salisbury hill

Turn in ever soft records 

Where the blue birds trill

And fellow knights of Henry

Have arrived by Welsh appeal

To garner the orange men of Wednesday 

With their Zesty peel

And toothless crows will talk in hedgerows

Of Black Friday wills

Where Jesus was a charioteer

And Neil Diamond steals

The lime light of lemon trees

In elementary muse

So cut throat in pleasantries

That he must be killed

Swan

 Swan you little plesiosaurus

Look you up in a thesaurus

You're a synonym for white


And some how you learnt to fly 

but prefer the water to the sky


I can't control it said the swan

The sky and the earth on this day

I am the king of the pond

I am the mirror bird I say


I hold your reflection in my mind

And I give back you my white in kind


Give back the white

Oh will you read between the lines

Of the black and white

And see through to the otherside of the mirror


Said to the lily, why be a pad

Like a biscuit

I sip from your waterlip

And swill down the plankton

Into my gullet

And you have to give me your yellow

And I'll cut loose Mr goose

And give you back my white


Give me your green Mr froggy

And he said ribbet and swam along

I'll give you my green if you sing your swan song

So the swan sang a beautiful blood red tune

And Froggy gave him his green

And he gave back his white


Give me your brown Mr Otter

And the Otter dipped into the jelly black lake

Said I'll give you my brown if you prove you're no fake

So the Swan rose up like a dragon and beat his wings

And Otter gave him his brown

And he gave back his white


Give me your black Mr Raven

And Raven said no way and flew away

But wait! cried swan, you swore you were my mate

And raven's beady eyes spied him, said Ok

Friend, you can take a piece of my black

And Swan gave him his white

And Raven danced his Magpie jig


Why then, said Swan, with all these colours am I still white?

And the lake spoke up and said you made a grave mistake

While you gave away your white there was no promise made the other way

So the only colour your young may be is grey

To remind you of the trust you had in other animals

Then the white to remind you that all animals lie



Sunday, 19 March 2023

Cloud Cities

 Oh to be up in the clouds

in the castles way up high

Oh to be believing

That I shall never die


Oh to be up in the cloud castles

Where worlds range and people are free

Up in the clouds where heaven awaits

And I am simply me


Oh to be up in the cloud castles

Where so many worlds exist

And inside this, and outside that

And nobody will be missed


Oh to be up in the cloud castles

Where buzzards reign

Oh to be up in the cloud castles

Where we are all the same


Oh to be up in the cloud castles

Up where the cities of gold shine

In the bright sunlight

Where they walk light footed and swift



Saturday, 18 March 2023

Keep learning

 Well they told me that I had more to learn

Keep learning

Keep learning

Everything you learn will be another string to your bow

Keep learning boys


The green holly hangs upon the bough

Keep learning, keep learning

Everything you cherish

Will be gone somehow

Keep learning boys


The friends that we had 

They'll be gone somehow

Keep learning, keep learning

Gone as the green grass

Under the plough

Keep learning boys



Pot of Gold

 If I found a pot of gold

I would buy back the love I sold

But nothing will turn back the clock

And there's no shifting that mental block


If I found a pot of gold

I'd lay a path like the yellow brick road

And riches, property and wealth

Would all lead to corruption of self


If I found a pot of gold

More than anything, I'd want to be told

Leave it alone for it wasn't yours

And it's best not to step through temptation's doors