Poems

At the end of the road is a pot holeIt’s been there for a year at leastit’s grown so very largeit could be home to a beast At the end of the road there’s a pot holequite deep it now appearsIt’s been filled with earth and a saplingthat’s watered by motorists tears at the end…

I opened a bottleAnd it opened me,Secrets spilling out,Emotions flowing,Visceral, bloody,Red as the wine,Until both the bottleAnd I were empty.

(Allow me to translate) Like an alligator struggling at a river’s wildest confluenceLike a translator working at an international conference Outrageously this train has left without its guardSubconsciously my brain is working extra hard Sometimes it leaves me so verminous that I cannot copulateSometimes it makes me so nervous that I cannot concentrate In nursery…

A Crust of green and whiteHoar, grass and hair frostSoon to be lost.As Spring’s warmth slowly thaws Winter’s blight.The dawn sun turns the water silver.Then Orange and bright. Longer days and less night.From beneath the earth bulbs.Seeds start to push and fight.To work their way to the sun’s delight.To appear yellow, blue, red and white….

“We are now approaching Seaford…”came the voice of the train,as it slowed. We had come to look for our new home –our last home: a home to settle and stay in:a home here, perhaps. We wandered slowly from the train down to the seaand there was the sea. The first thing was the sea, next…

I walk down Rodmell’s busy street with my two stout sticks,with a bright yellow jacket on, for warning so much traffic,bought for me by my loving wife. If I’m lucky, she comes along as well,Wearing thick gloves and furry hat.Sometimes it’s with someone else,OK, but not the same as a loving chat. I am generally…

There’s an ongoing struggle to survive!Somewhere, a career path is doubtful,Somehow, there’s a need to thrive! This Curriculum Vitae goes live!‘Learning the ropes’ isn’t very hopeful,There’s an ongoing struggle to survive! Imagination goes into overdrive!Job-to-job, getting ever stealthful;Somehow, there’s a need to thrive! Rising suspicion is fast to arrive!Tactics are getting less useful,There’s an ongoing…

1.Little by little, it’s taking shape:Not quite ready though.A bit of this, bit of that, bit of the other thing: got to get it all just so. With a tiny tweak here, and a slight tap there:don’t need that part, better check this part, nothing too radical, twiddling till it’sSpot on, top to toe. 2.Won’t…

The Valley of the house hides the river Rushing mountain-chunk-smashing water Down from the peaks into the up Of the valley hanging over the plains below the mountain. The valley of the house channels the gale To rip hatred at the rock-huggared walls Of the slate-roofed scribing house Of the resider, the last abider of…

Early morning,Sun shiningThrough the curtains,I dreamt of California.Warm air, bright light,Tall redwood treesScreening the forest floorFrom the heat.A river, fast and clear,Water tumbling, noisily,Through rocksOut of Yosemite.Mountain passes,Blocked by snow.Death ValleySearing in the sun. A home, back yardCovered by decking,A shaded placeTo sit and talk.A jigsaw, on a table,Part finished,Waiting for the final pieceThat will…

Mischa asked ‘What is a poem?’And I saw A young woman,Back in the Sixties,Bag on her shoulder,Low slung jeansAnd sandals,Smiling to herselfHead high,Fluid, Free,As she walkedIn the sun.

Before I learnt to control my feelings I used to feed off others Especially anger When someone close was angry I would think it was directed at me Then I would eclipse their hurt With my own Instead of receiving sympathy They suffered my pent-up rage Without proper help To recognise and understand The power…

Standing on the deck a companyresplendent in naval livery salutelittle ships and dinghies re-enactingtheir loyalty willing to respond for king and country bringing homeheroes to live and fight again the company of greed and twistedlies go hand in handdenying honesty, corrupted by power The company we once shared decimated again, living under showersof a poisoned…

Ethereal wisps are thoughtsthat drift in morning mists and sit on the river whis-pering mysterious tales. There’s a ghost of a chancethat you might catch a glance of souls passing that way,there’s a ghost of a smilethat’s caught once in a whilewhen memories brighten sad eyes

An empty boxSitting on a shelfFilled with memories.I see it every day,Take it down sometimes,And hold it,Feeling its lightnessBut keeping it shut;Afraid the memoriesWill escape. Childhood streets,And alleyways behind,Sandy beaches,Sun warm on my skin,People I’ve known,Secrets I keep,Flown away,Gone,Like photosExposed to light,If the bareness inside,Is revealed. One day,Someone willTake it downAnd look inside.But by thenThere’ll…