SENSES
An eye
An inlet
Where the water is still
Beaten path of smoke
Lungs always
Desiring air
An ear
A jetty, a promontory
Built with planks of wood
A small pond
Tickled - A heart rests
In a beautiful world
Beautiful world
(With its broken teeth)
This poem will be
A shipwreck of love
FILLING
God is in the page
The space I fill
Inside a jug
The silence in a shell
God is in the height
And breadth of a Cathedral
The menace of a Western
Facing alley
Quiet lives
Larger lives - from
The terrace to the lion's rage
All rest in our public eye.
PROTEST SONG
There is always choice
On terra - Whether to raise
Your voice in protest
Or roll over, coalesce.
There are smooth pebbles
To throw at PLC's and
Quick escalators to
Department stores of
Hell and purgatory
(All very cheap).
There are some
Who go alone
And those who prefer
The gang, the shoal - no worries
At the summit of 'Mount Norm'
I do not see your National Vision
Or listen to a word you say
But I can return with you
To the valley - and moan.
DIVE
Blue sky
Like a licorice jamboree
Six drowning sailors
In an aggravated sea
And the wink nearby
Of a man
Diving
Ever so deep
Backwards as it happens
Into a thimble
Of a pool
Eye shining black
"You lack love
Get out there like me
And make a big splash"
WAR GRAMMAR
Our weapons
Are poisonous branches -
We hold such a great variety
We carry
Rifles, cluster bombs -
All bearing disgusting fruit
Our mouth's lessons
Multiply confused
Sentences
Love is a full stop
Shots are often too, full stops
In the newspapers
Both colon's and semi-colons
Are strung together like
Explosive bandanas, gun-belts
A man's mind and mouth
When open, should be a cave of light
Where it is possible
To see and hear a bird of paradise.
JERUSALEM!
The planners have come
To build Bradford, to turn
Our backs on a glorious
Life of wool
It is futuristic, urbane and
I am full of hope - I see
Spires and interlocking
Squares, marble fountains
Dotted with pine groves
Perhaps some oriental ducks
A vista to replace shitty BHS
Marks and Sparks and
The pound shops crammed with
Cheap tat
We await (in the next
Decade or so) the unexpected
Human touches
Curving benches, shapely walls
As light as Quaver's crisps
And white-painted walkways
For young citizen's feet
No more Doc Martins or muggings
This Architecture will understand
Our need for the concrete
Like a well-planned heaven
Meanwhile they continue to clear
A space for these dreams to rise
Pulling up buildings
Like painful molars
Between library and Alhambra.
A town they take out
Each night, turn on the hose
Add a bit of fizz and brush clean.
THE CONQUISTADOR
In the holocaust of wanting
This film of girls
Spins in a light
The beauty becomes speckled
The skin becomes
Yellow ivory
Some exploit this,
Leave their smile
At the check-out
Peel themselves to nothing
As the sunrise falls over the lip
Gold in all our temples
Will be despoiled.
CO-ORDINATES
The space between us
Tells me somethings up
Yours is a sweet halo -
The heart-beat of a lovely girl.
Time is a slur. Mechanical
Hourglass figures drift,
Reflect aluminium hosts.
Our job here is done.
I let go - polka dance
Then turn - a thousand bodies
Pass by and our wrinkles
Are blessed with static,
Frankincense, oxygen.
Your lipstick turns over
By the transported wing tip.
Co-ordinates are sent back
To Earth half sun-baked
And at always at war.
You lean over
And kiss the controllers
Goodnight.
THE STORY
I look at the leaf on tarmac
Embossed, the ghost of the seasons -
I see other creatures
Faded in plume
I look and listen
Receptive with ink, see
The scribble of wings
In the veined trees
I close the lid of Summer
Waiting ...
We improvise and then were gone
THE THIRTEENTH NOEL
We killed the lights
Waiting for the big man to arrive
Messenger of Death,
Jocular or gaunt?
I saw him open his sack
So theatrically, waving presents
(the usual Pandora's box?)
Whatever lay hard in his glove
Glittered exceptionally -
Tied with a bow -
Cat gut, lizard skin
The Thirteenth Noel had begun
Skeleton and bell
And Anthrax, Semtex, Blitzkrieg
Nightshade, Chancer pawing
I wasn't a good boy
So I looked...
He looked at me too
And there was nothing
Within the fur of his hood
Nothing except the terror of
Everything he'd skinned to
Make his uniform soaked in blood.
WE DON'T FEAR TERRORIST ATTACKS
The cabin boy
Line dances to explain exits avoiding
Obese tits - He shows us gas mask
Rubber ring, whistle, Israeli flag.
I flick for the seventh time
Through Hello magazine
I calm stomach with Rennie
Bumff - something kicks in
We taxi up to cycle, tricycle
Then express train speed -
Thermal-dynamic lifts
Three hundred people into the air
(I hope the wing-nuts are secure)
The flaps moving too easily -
Ten seconds later eyes blink
Astonished - No-one here does
Proper history, race or politics
Cities, towns, villages shrink.
Our lives fit into a luggage rack.
FASHION VICTIM
Sunbathers
Attend to each other
Like dogs licking their fur
Bra-straps here are obstacles
For men to go under and survive
Some preen their locks
Like Budgerigars or Macaws.
I've perfected the slob look
Stand tall like Kurt Cobain
In Stanley Matthews shorts.
CROONER
Ken Romaro croons
To a room of OAP's, his quiff
Like the side of a horse
His guilt
Is like the scarlet rose
Held between his teeth -
He wipes sweaty palms and
Swears he has a creaky knee.
THE ASSAYER
People who smile
Are precious
Like beaten gold
Try your best
Hide your hallmark
Let go.