Sunday 6 October 2013

After an image in 'A Body Lain Out' by Lorca ~

The summer in a foreign dusk.
Close heat that grows everywhere
From the skin, breathed.
A balmy silence towards the lain loved one -
Alive in degradation!
The smell of seas emptying
It's cold shoals on the sense -
History gathers at last to rest
On pebbles, red stone as warm as a heart,
Whispering grasses -
The shudders of the mourning.

untitled ~

in my dream
love was onfire -
walls were aflame and
time had no meaning.
the whole world stopped
for the musics i heard -
a distance that evolved
from my heartbeat.
i looked up at your face -
a bone white mirror -
it broke into pieces upon the air.

Saturday in the Roman City ~

The dog screams in it's lust,

Emptying the bowels of the

Dark vowels it knows,

Around the streets, cascade,

Slapping like flesh on steel each word,

An echo torment like me

Waiting for the turns,

The love comes, coming

Not known any other way

Someone controls, always

It stops, the driven take over,

Each machine shudders terror silk,

The sound a million hearts

And each one beating breaks.


The Load ~ (for Mahmoud Darwish)

I carry a load and
Now I am afraid of doorways,
The passage makes new parts
Of my condition bleed-

Her pains, I am carrying

Her, her load creaks in my
Bones so that they snap inside
The flesh of me.


Stone burnt in sun-
Water made thin on the
Scorched ground of Gaza,
Hurt, as ice moves on the
Ebb of the tide,
Ice melts on the worn tongue.

I ask her to leave me alone

So I am not so hurt by
Her sudden objections
As she jabs her nails

Into my side and rips in

Between my ribs, the nettles
Of viens wrapped around them,
Stabbing and stabbing.

Rain that must dance

With the winds,
As pebbles rush back
With the waves,
Paper runs from the flames,

I gave my life to her unknowing;


To her my life I gave.


The Nile ~


It has never been so quiet
The night as still as a dead serpent
In the rushes-
A car breaks the sound and
Vanishes, do dark the dawn
May never come.

I have lain here in

Awe of cherished sleep
Folded myself over and over
On the river bed, unclean
With the moan of bones.

I rose to drink from famished lips

From dreams aching with the colour and light,
Water as warm as spent wax my words
Burning speechless onto a page.

What dark matter is that

That whistles so close to the eye?

What scuttled over my face?

A bat that rushed to
Sear me with it’s wing-

A scarab beetle, beloved, that
Bore claws minute into my brain.

your want of me ~

i am 
i a
i am your better self
encroached by wit in the sidelines
the shadows
i watch your indiscretions
your losses
you counter my better judgements
act on a behalf alone
it is in the glass you see me
i stare with your thoughts
sprawling on my face
you catch me in car windows
a better shade of self from another world
at night i settle
and talk to you
but you scream in snores and sweats
have you ever slept well
knowing i am so close behind the veil
i sleep often i dont have to be awake
the years meander and i live
in my distant palace
made grand by your want of me
occasionally you pass my gates
unaware i live there
you live there
waiting to awaken in the first morning
and walk
stride through any glass
even a finger
to touch me


Salvation ~


These are the beginnings
The walk after seeing
My mother sat; not on the bed in tears
But crouched by the radiator
Crying - " What have I done?"
I thought that then,
Intially, as I have always thought,
As they have felt they have always had it harder
Than most; Mother, in '91,
Was one of the first to get the,
'New fangled cancer treatment',
She should be famous, of the 1100 women
To recieve it, to push the stats of survival upwards.

I became a drinker and lost
Lots of dear but isolated things; the dances
Of love where music faded without song-
Couldn't remember much anyway,
Aside from the sex, why?
Why not the touches, the held
Softness of her love to me?
I reached for her but she wasn't there.

I walked the streets.

The blood flowed,
Like the sheen rain pavement
Mirrors that held no image
In the stones,

There wasn't a room at the hostel, but
Kevin shared a joke or two, his hands
Were burnt from something
On the pads of his thumbs, like
He had wanted to erase something 
From a hard surface quickly-
He smelt of cheap whisky, not on the breath
But through the pores, bleary eyed, frayed hair,
His jeans stained - he asked me if I used and I
Thought of my mother; her back towards me suddenly.
He gave me a blanket, no room, directing me
To Andrew who took me by the hand,
A burly 30 something and told me of the solace
To be found in a man-
But I needed sleep.
So, he took me to the underpass of the motorway,
The lights hurt my eyes, he toppled a burnt out sofa
For me to stand on, a key to open
The door- I had my blanket, my torch, my mother like
A sygil and I rose.
Thunderous, he left me there. I lit the candles.
Around, the room was a service tunnel blocked off.
At one end, a mattress, human waste, an old woman there.
Doubling up, I wrapped close, lent to the task of self love
Of heart, she watched me, passed me her bottle.
To show comradery yet distance, I wiped the lip
Throughly and swung.

Seven am came quickly.

She rolled, snug in defeat, I was amazed I had climbed
So high and surely would sprain my ankle on the drop!
There is nothing like it, the stark morning air,
I felt more alive than ever before.
Near this motorway place were new houses, developments
That reminded me of Loutraki and Greece, Ikea based and I laughed.
I needed food so went and had some -
The Salvation Army took me in. 
( Who the hell serves mashed potato for brekkie?? )
Toothless knuckle red men, stinking of whatever
They could afford. I wandered in having been told
Of the place and was viewed like a pariah
Even of them.

Slight stubble.
Second night on the streets -
Cold eyes, dead eyes-
The woman I shared the filth with
Sank slowly down next to me to eat.                             Newport 2010.

Celtic Enchantment / Love Has Found Me


Celtic Enchantment

Takest to form a fish or hare,
Or whispers on the evening air,
Takest to form a bully bear
In the forsets of the dawning.

Takest to form the woodland trees,
And leap with ease from leaf to leaf,
Takest to form the summer breeze,
And listen in the evening.

When thy enemy is close at last,
Takest to form the swaying grass,
Make him of his wit to ask,
And confusion send him reeling.

Takest to form the darkest night,
Deprive him of all strength and sight,
Run him down with all your might,
To the silent river moving.                              Reading, 2008.


Love has found me

Love has found me,
Made me hungry for it's taste,
Shuddering humble in it's gaze,
Love has found me.

Let me hold you,
Keep you safe and warm,
Keep you safe from harm,
As I hold you.

Our time is precious,
A jewel sacred in your hand,
From it I carve a wedding band,
Our time is precious.

The rhythm of our rhyme,
Love can find, love can find,
Command the beating of a heart,
Love draws as distance parts.

                                                           Scotland 2007

Loss ~



What do I lose,
Everytime your crystal fire
Widens to attempt
Your closures -

Pieces of my sharpnel life,
My silver of tears,
Through your perfect grace
And my hope, our years?


-Lincoln 2007

Flt. Lt ~ Scottow Cemetary


From a photograph run of colour,
Some twenty seven years of rains;
Laid at the stone of his grave,

His eyes spoke to me.

I remembered 1988 and was ten,
Older now than he ever reached;
His death at twenty six,

"All my grief will be endless
Until we meet again" ~ Mum.

His passing close,
An anniversary in September,
Approaching on winter's air,
Flying as new leaves that spiral.

I laid a broke stone,
To join the rubble;

Because I do not understand grief.

1st Sep 2013