(the 23rd of November, 2010, London)
If life knocks you off your feet
Then try drumming a different beat
Freedom isn't a tune set on "repeat".
Repent, prevent.
Potent ascent.
What won't be put right
Will stay bent.
I looked through my cupboard
Drawers were empty
Tangled bobbin threads
And needles aplenty.
Stitched up
That hole in my head
It's bad luck
But to my own pain I am wed.
Every now and again
I get lost from the world
I hold onto the lilo of life
With two fingers
Fold
Me into myself
Away from my need
Castigate my hunger
Lest it should breed
Greed.
And the seconds are tocking
And what I desperately want
Won't be laid by my bed
In a stocking.
So brokering my own frustration
I trade truth
And trample all over
Live's fragile plant.
In a self-mocking, self-blocking
Valiant shocking dance.
Tuesday, 23 November 2010
Tuesday, 5 October 2010
Creche
(the 4th of September)
Wet eyes begging at the door
Walled in
Castle of Innocence
Buldozered to a handful of
Play-blocks scattered on the floor
Good-byes plucked
Like scales off a dead trout
Limpid horse pulled away
From derailed cart
Love temporarily
Timed out
Left ghostly pending
With the tremor of a rootless tree
Neither living nor dead
Just surviving the calamity
Of ritual away-sending
Misery
Every second
Inward growing claw
A foolish monument
To the economy of trading
Contact flesh to flesh
For the cold roominess of
Growing-up crèche.
Wet eyes begging at the door
Walled in
Castle of Innocence
Buldozered to a handful of
Play-blocks scattered on the floor
Good-byes plucked
Like scales off a dead trout
Limpid horse pulled away
From derailed cart
Love temporarily
Timed out
Left ghostly pending
With the tremor of a rootless tree
Neither living nor dead
Just surviving the calamity
Of ritual away-sending
Misery
Every second
Inward growing claw
A foolish monument
To the economy of trading
Contact flesh to flesh
For the cold roominess of
Growing-up crèche.
Monday, 4 October 2010
Native
(By Gub, the 3rd of October, Canada)
One eye
Blind
I see the native
Leaves fall upon the
Side walk
Of the not so native
City
Staring humbly
From the taxi
Misting rain
Curls web-like
Round the frame
That I have built
For you
In my mind
My other eye
Sees
Home
The whole
Vision configured
Two parts
The place I am
The place I dwell
Condensing
Like the rain
That runs
In veins
Across the
Windscreen of my
World
Wipers wince
Waters clear
And you are gone
One eye
Blind
I see the native
Leaves fall upon the
Side walk
Of the not so native
City
Staring humbly
From the taxi
Misting rain
Curls web-like
Round the frame
That I have built
For you
In my mind
My other eye
Sees
Home
The whole
Vision configured
Two parts
The place I am
The place I dwell
Condensing
Like the rain
That runs
In veins
Across the
Windscreen of my
World
Wipers wince
Waters clear
And you are gone
Friday, 24 September 2010
In Grace Profusion
(the 24th of September, Spain)
Wake up to the
Mounting of the golden sail
Beyond our crib
Night is
The quiet spin
Before we are
Reunited
With the sun
In this country
They put “no access”
Signs
On beauty
Amidst
A half-built future
And a half-derelict past
We gypsies
Feast our eyes on
Waves
Slapping the sand
In frothy anger.
Light glints off
The skeletal scaffolding
Of a precarious bridge
Between
Today and tomorrow
My son believes
That tomorrow
Is sooner than
Later
That the future
Spreads ahead
Like peanut butter
On a slice of bread
I don't have the heart
To teach him
That now is already
Too late
Wake up to the
Mounting of the golden sail
Beyond our crib
Night is
The quiet spin
Before we are
Reunited
With the sun
In this country
They put “no access”
Signs
On beauty
Amidst
A half-built future
And a half-derelict past
We gypsies
Feast our eyes on
Waves
Slapping the sand
In frothy anger.
Light glints off
The skeletal scaffolding
Of a precarious bridge
Between
Today and tomorrow
My son believes
That tomorrow
Is sooner than
Later
That the future
Spreads ahead
Like peanut butter
On a slice of bread
I don't have the heart
To teach him
That now is already
Too late
Tuesday, 27 July 2010
Time Travels
(By Sil, the 27th of July, 2010, Romania)
Overlooked
Shifting luggage
Smuggled aboard
Overhanging hangover
Of a different ball
The door forced shut
Memory pound small
How eager Nostalgia
Irons out the
Creased, yellowed fabric
Of lived in life
Into a sensuous
Constructed shape
Not the dour Reality drape
No good
Measuring years by
Pounds gained
Or innocence lost
I tell myself
Lost in the innocence
Of the
Mirror-played
“I’m not growing up”
Game
Every now and again
I return
To a beach
Where love threw
Bitter-sweet apples
My way
I long to
Run fingers
Through Youth’s
Luscious mane
But as I watch my son
Refract
In the pierced
Water membrane
Abandoned by time,
And insane
I throw
Still many more seconds
Away
Overlooked
Shifting luggage
Smuggled aboard
Overhanging hangover
Of a different ball
The door forced shut
Memory pound small
How eager Nostalgia
Irons out the
Creased, yellowed fabric
Of lived in life
Into a sensuous
Constructed shape
Not the dour Reality drape
No good
Measuring years by
Pounds gained
Or innocence lost
I tell myself
Lost in the innocence
Of the
Mirror-played
“I’m not growing up”
Game
Every now and again
I return
To a beach
Where love threw
Bitter-sweet apples
My way
I long to
Run fingers
Through Youth’s
Luscious mane
But as I watch my son
Refract
In the pierced
Water membrane
Abandoned by time,
And insane
I throw
Still many more seconds
Away
Sunday, 20 June 2010
About Your Father
(By Sil, the 20th of June, 2010)
Father’s
Words
Are
Wheels
You can borrow
For the Long Ride
In exchange of
Propulsion
You won’t
Leave
Your identity
At the gate
But you will
Have to
Build
Your own frame
With
Your own tools
He holds you close
So you can learn
That
It is manly
To cradle
He cries
So you would see
Under
Permeable skin
He is vulnerable,
But not weak.
You know
That his door
May be closed
But never locked
So enter.
In his cave of wonders
He preserves
Traces of his past
So you can
Dare
To look
Into your future.
Father’s
Words
Are
Wheels
You can borrow
For the Long Ride
In exchange of
Propulsion
You won’t
Leave
Your identity
At the gate
But you will
Have to
Build
Your own frame
With
Your own tools
He holds you close
So you can learn
That
It is manly
To cradle
He cries
So you would see
Under
Permeable skin
He is vulnerable,
But not weak.
You know
That his door
May be closed
But never locked
So enter.
In his cave of wonders
He preserves
Traces of his past
So you can
Dare
To look
Into your future.
Beginnings
(By Sil, June, 2009, London)
Of beginnings without heartbeat:
I am thrust into motion
Cat yanked awake from drowsy stupor.
What shall I tell you?
How do we begin
When it feels like
Whenever our eyes lock in steel gaze
I rediscover you – a stranger
Are we just being born
Moment by moment
Each new task
A new entering into the world
Without a midwife
Choking on fluid fear
No wonder I don’t breathe
No wonder being with me
Feels like riding an underground train
Jerk. Speed up. Slow down. Stop. Wait.
Breath again.
Of beginnings without heartbeat:
I am thrust into motion
Cat yanked awake from drowsy stupor.
What shall I tell you?
How do we begin
When it feels like
Whenever our eyes lock in steel gaze
I rediscover you – a stranger
Are we just being born
Moment by moment
Each new task
A new entering into the world
Without a midwife
Choking on fluid fear
No wonder I don’t breathe
No wonder being with me
Feels like riding an underground train
Jerk. Speed up. Slow down. Stop. Wait.
Breath again.
Fear Manifesto
(By Sil, the 3rd of June, 2010, London)
Passive,
I’d rather be the strapped-in passenger,
Not the sightless driver
Manoeuvring
Into the night of destiny
Even if it means
Even if it means
I am handing over the controls.
Heavy-eyed,
I rather mash the view in soft focus
Than stay alert
To the hazard-yielding panorama of being
Even if it means
Even if it means
I’m sleeping my life away.
Slow,
I’d rather toddle along the bridle path
Not race
On the highways of ambition
Where speed is the blood of direction
Even if it means
Even if it means
I never arrive.
Thrust into the driving seat
Too young
Feet dangle above the pedals
Gaze below the mirrors
My body
A car with no controls
To the brim filled with the fuel of fear
Clamps down.
I crash
On the unforgiving turns of life.
Passive,
I’d rather be the strapped-in passenger,
Not the sightless driver
Manoeuvring
Into the night of destiny
Even if it means
Even if it means
I am handing over the controls.
Heavy-eyed,
I rather mash the view in soft focus
Than stay alert
To the hazard-yielding panorama of being
Even if it means
Even if it means
I’m sleeping my life away.
Slow,
I’d rather toddle along the bridle path
Not race
On the highways of ambition
Where speed is the blood of direction
Even if it means
Even if it means
I never arrive.
Thrust into the driving seat
Too young
Feet dangle above the pedals
Gaze below the mirrors
My body
A car with no controls
To the brim filled with the fuel of fear
Clamps down.
I crash
On the unforgiving turns of life.
Friday, 28 May 2010
The Beduin Wedding Dress
(By Sil, Dahab, Egypt, December 2008)
This black canvas
Covered in loud cris-cross
Mis-matched pattern
Red thread and un-stiching seams
The lost-and-found lace
Infantile search for beauty
It will fall apart, surely
Made by impatient young hands
You can look too close and
Your examining eyes can tear it apart
Such fragile prettiness
Femininity in a black desert
This black canvas
Covered in loud cris-cross
Mis-matched pattern
Red thread and un-stiching seams
The lost-and-found lace
Infantile search for beauty
It will fall apart, surely
Made by impatient young hands
You can look too close and
Your examining eyes can tear it apart
Such fragile prettiness
Femininity in a black desert
Still
(By Sil, the 28th of May, 2010, London)
Trying to escape
Dog gets electric shock
After electric shock
Eventually it learns to
Just lie there and give up
The pain is in the doing
So it won’t do
Nothing can go wrong
When lying still
So it lies still
In stillness
She is free from punishment
The stillness – cage within the cage
Thus the lesson in helplessness
Is learned
Trying to escape
Dog gets electric shock
After electric shock
Eventually it learns to
Just lie there and give up
The pain is in the doing
So it won’t do
Nothing can go wrong
When lying still
So it lies still
In stillness
She is free from punishment
The stillness – cage within the cage
Thus the lesson in helplessness
Is learned
Sunday, 21 February 2010
When Parents are Bereft of Woe, Weary Lines, Laughter Cracks and The Step
When parents are bereft of woe
(By Gub, London, the 5th of September 2006)
When parents are bereft of woe
They’re dead, or slack, to life’s beat
Children jump on an open sheet
Fly off the bed
Break their feet.
Worry the burden of age,
The strife
Of begetting things
That carry lice.
That shout, that call
Moan.
Too large, too short
Too much,
Groan.
Summon, despise, despatch
In an instant
The sermon that took years
Precious hours of research
Dismiss with a burp
Well intended
care.
Raid the fridge
Attack the dog
With the bread-knife.
Little love
Little loss
The passing of the cross
We met again
Adults all, recall with gloss…
Till they bear pups
Which berate and bark
They have no inkling
Of the cycle
The dragging
Of the smaller self
Through the cold night
The muddied grass
Of urban park.
But meet and pass
As generation must
Carve initials in the bark
Remember the tree
Embraced by all
Surround together
Both large and small
Child, adult
Life’s a game
At half-time
Switch ends
Play on
For sure
Those who bat today
Must tomorrow
Catch the ball…
Weary lines
(By Gub, 4th of March, 2007)
Weary lines
Wake the face
Crimp-eye
Light blind
Vision
Dawn intruder
Day….
Comes
To test
The Faith
Pictures
Flown from
Memory
Recoil
Against
The frame
Child with toast
End of the bed
Grins
Selfless
Butter
Drips
On the counterpane
Corner
Of a calico
Curtain
Brush
Of leaf on wood
Cow lows
Sore sound
Fields
Distant
Mushrooms
Damp
Rise
Brown
Forest
Food
Sparks fly
From farmyard
anvil
TV screen flashes
Blue, cars light up
road
Night
Winter
Snow
Life so young
Should be good.
School waits
Small learning
adulthood
Sex begins
Won’t stop
Deep
Too deep
Childhood
Sleeps
Coursens
The pulse
Veins
That swell
Water drips
Dark
Darker
Into
The
Brown
Depth
Of time’s
Well
Morning recovers
Night’s bruises
Daylight
Smothers
The pale imprint
Of fingered
Excuses
The stifle
Cry
Of woken eye
The nightmare
Came
Re-told
becomes a lie;
a dare too far
refused.
Laughter cracks
(By Gub, the 12th of March, 2007)
Laughter cracks against
Wood
Playground frame
Father’s day
Stolen hours,
Tired,
Misunderstood.
Smiles crease
Fingers freeze
March’s shuttlecock
Bats winter back and forth
Teases
Spring’s release
An unseasoned marriage
Between sun and gold
Fun and cold
Mirth, grief….
Mood stalks
Youth
Deer’s hoof
Dappled light
Darkening wood
Hunters spear.
Heart
Hurt glare
Parents in
Separate
Spheres
Conjure
Bleak
Dissolution
Of innocence
River
Winds
Stitches bind
Life, purpose,
Irrepressible
Intent
Child’s voice
Falls
Captive
To a greater will
The future
Re-invents.
The broken oaks
Crack down
Wind spent
Cling for a
Season or two
Fall
On the forest floor
Green shoots
Permeate
Debris
Small heads rise
High
Not just surviving
But the better
To see…
The Step
(By Sil, HBC, July 2009)
Un-toiled labour
Un-heard sobs
Un-seen first steps
And un-fought swords
All time that passed
All years un-lived
Film reeled in the dark
In silent shift
And now you demand, you command
You are lost and I reprimand
Un-mother and un-child
Itched by unbearable chafe that we cannot un-fight
And oh! How it does bother
The step
The UN-SUR-MOUNT-ABLE step
Step
Son
Step
Mother
Love poems written in Romania
Curvature
(By Gub, Bucharest, September 2003)
The arch of your
Back
The curl
Of your toe
Open mouths
Wet lips
Hips
Circling
Slow
Senses
Warm
Calm
Nerve
Balm
No fracture
No division
Unity
Precision
Love
Made slow
Eyes
Meet
Worlds welded
Complete
And hours later
When we part
Pubic hair
Like
Velcro
Echoes
The
Gentle
Tearing
In my
heart
Is love real
(By Gub, Bucharest, September 2003)
The love that you feel
Is it real ?
When you touch
My skin
Pull me in,
Absolve my sin
Is this a fantasy
Of fact ?
Or phantom
Fancy ?
Truth aches
Uncertain
Which way
To go
The will
To embrace
The fabric
Of love
To pull on the
Mantle of an
Others beauty
The elegant
Textiles
Of desires
Construction
To wear
Our souls
With deep
Comfort
And eae
Or is loive
Just a vain
Attempt to
Please
Our empty
Egos ?
I see your eye
Reflect the light
The contraction
Of my love
To a tiny bsize
So fragile
So small
All expansive
All sense
Compressed
Into a
Miniature ball.
You hold
Me
Now
A particle
Of sand -
A fragment
Of history
In your hand
Will you
Clasp me
Close
Guard me
Still ?:
Or dust me
Off
Into the
Desert
Of free will ?
The circle
(By Gub, September 2003, Bucharest)
I have no hope
To heal
History
No spark
Or flame
To light the fire
By which to steer
My tired ship
The sea moves
Silent
Beneath this
Static hull
A surf-less
Surface
Lit
With grey
Sky
Numb dull
Clouds
Slip
Listlessly
By
Sails limp
With damp
Air
This is no new
Horizon
No promised
Land
The world is flat
Contrite
With feeling
Polished mantle
Of azure ocean
Stretches
Endless
A blue
Desert
With no
Sand
Above the sea
The sky is stiller
Still
A forest
Canopy
Of concrete
Clouds
Sit solid
Unbroken shadows
Refuse to crack
Refuse to rustle
Lifeless
In the breeze
This space
A spaceless
Heaven
No stars
Shine
In this moonless
Cavern
What hope
Stirs
Is soon
Crazed
With unhinged
Purpose
A groan
Rumbles
In the lowest
Depth
A volcano
Erupts
With frozen
Magma
Speak less
Of life
And more of living
Life is a word devoid
Of
Meaning
But act;
Protract
Or contract
Some shape
Some feeling
Grab the handrail
Of the sinking vessel
The breached bow
Of fallow years
Gulp the air
Though still and stale
The smallest particle
Confesses fear
There is no deception
Age marks
Lines
On the youngest face
Embrace that breeze
That fills the sails
It is born
In a different place
Travel is the measure
Of our journey
- move
As we must
From place to place
Life is the
Motion
That begins
And ends the
Human race.
Describe a circle
Touch lightly
The contours
Of your hand
Hold the air for
A fleeting
Second
Still
Now
The quiet
Of living
The shifting
Of time
Each day the sea
Moves
It’s own
Weight
In sand.
When you touched
(By Gub, Romania, 2003)
When you touched
This skin
And closed me tight
And whole
Within your body
You spared the world
Some bitter
Pain
When you tucked
Me tight
Under your wing
And sucked me dry
And drew me in
You closed
A door
On darkness
Switching
On a light
You withdrew
The bite
That threatened
Sight
And
Ribbons caught
Beneath the buckle
The waistcoat
Muffled
Tight
Love is a passing
A human gasping
A roll of dice
A cancered lottery
Of untold flight
One soars
One boars
What charges
Upward into night.
We may have felt
The ruffled quiver
The besmirched
Mirror
The hour-glass
Reception
Of time
Wither
But standing
Out,
Proud alone,
The embarrassed
Groan
The collective tither
Love wrestles this
And that
A Laundromat
Of unwashed
Feeling
We seek for gain
We contort
Our hearts
And smile with pain
We grow smaller
Darker by the hour
When sunblest
We stand
Before the light
The penetrating apostle
Of lovers sight
To stand and proclaim
That pain is shame
That bottling up our ardour
Is tantamount
To a cold shower
Easily done in moments
Of mirth
We measure the earth’s crust
Turn
It’s rusty girth
But human touch
Human hope
We pray
That is real…
The moonlight shines
On the valley below
The rattle the garble
Of the cows lowing
The life that cups
The cradle
The candle that glows
The hand that rocks
The infant
Fearless
Of woe
I wish I could paint that face
That distant parent, the shadow of grace
Who stands like a tombstone
Over the womb,
Who overs succour
In the shadow
The gloom
And there amidst the agony
Of night
That gentle smile
That love labours
As the mother reaches
The father teaches
Stands
Forlorn
In the
Spring felt
Dawn,
The passage of
Time measured
Between death
And being
And being unborn
The wind rushes
A brush
Amongst trees
easing its passing
With the abandonment of leaves
And the tucker that falls on the forrest
Floor
Is an adornment of riches
A pasture of acorns,
From which
The bugs
The molluscs
Primeval
And unsown
Will tunnel
With wisdom
Will outlive
Man’s
Homegrown.
I smelt the dark rot
Of the wood’s acid core,
I watched the louse
Crawl, symmetrical
And small,
Barked back
Battalions
Of scouring might
Creatures
Of thoroughness
Blind, insight.
The hovering motion,
The circles
Engrained
Regimented
Circumnavigation
No cortex, no brain,
But in travelling half-distance
In pacing the same
No parliament,
No secretions
Of greed, or ill gain
Nature most
Bold
Most simple
Bereft of recall
The burying of arrows
Of bow-strings unstrung
Of hymnals unhitched
From the saddle
Of belief
From the harnass
From the gun
What insight we seize
From vision, what illusion
We are spared
When we consider
The wood-louse
The heir-loom
Of life
Human destiny
Spared…
I only wish
(By Gub, Jan 6th 2004)
I only wish I was pressing snow beneath my feet,
On a cold winter climb,
Up a cobbled Sibiu Street.
I only wish I could hold your face,
Cup your smile,
Squeeze your red raspberry lips
Between my chattering teeth.
Snow storms in the
Flickering light,
Flakes float
FleetingInto night.
Heating body, blood and soul,
Your love's hot cocoa to my heart
Your very being;
Spiritual coal...
Whistful
(By Gub, London, the 24th of June 2004)
Whistful, wanton
Wish
The blessing of a kiss.
If you would only
Open
Those eyes
Flash lashes
At the sky
See opulent
Colours
Spring to life
Press
Fresh
Reddening
Lips
Against
Alabaster skin
And sigh.
The deep
Breathless
Heat
Of summer’s
Past
The burning
Glory of sleep-filled
Dreams
The life we live
Before we die.
The body that you bare
The round full
Curves
Of tender
Flesh
The sudden rush
blood,
Swollen nerves
Flexing tendons
Sweat
Wept
Dry.
The image
Of that half drunk
Form
Draped
Seaweed
Across
Rounded
Stone.
vision
Born
By birth
The thirsting
Thrust
Of a waving form
Crashes
When you speak
(By Gub, London, the 28th of July, 2004)
When you speak
You pass
Green daises
That turn to grass
You usher sunshine
Into dark places
Your smile
Resonates
Echos
Joy
In the deepest recesses.
But when your voice
Is silent
When your
Tongue is closed
Tight around
Your gum
The day returns
To night
The world
Is glum
Speak now
whatever
Is in your mind
Your heart cannot betray
Thoughts that pass
Unuttered
Stark
And grey.
The bolder of
That stillness
Is only the nightmare
Of what you will not say.
The shadows
That we box
The half-lit
Candle
Pulls
Menace from the corner
My Souls courage
Stalls.
What are
The thoughts
That shudder
That curdle
From the grave ?
The sallow
Tainted face
This mystery
Is my knave
Wish that I could fight him
Wrestle him to the ground
That bloody unspoken
Feeling
That life
Will not confound.
When love is calling
Blindly
When hope is on its way
The universe
Shines so brightly
We are lifted from the fray.
But when the love
We’re close to
Slackens
And fear comes in its wake
All our senses wither
A heart upon a stake.
The blood that feeling
Calls for
The sacrifice
Of lies
From which love promised a gracious
goodbye
Becomes the thing despised.
How can such greatness
Falter ?
How can love become
undone ?
It is this silence
Which steals
Our former
greatness
Words collapse
Unspoken
False
Calm
Before the storm
And speaking
Nought of nothing
Isolation is reborn….
Christmas Song and Shimmer
Christmas song
(By Sil, the22nd of December, 2009, HBC)
If I could portion happiness in perfect shapes of ginger dough
And offer wishes wrapped in crispy paper
If I could line my soul in tinsel forever gold
And hear angels sing - would I still feel a leper?
I yearn to celebrate in faith the birthday his Son
But with this hapless friend it’s long since I have spoken
Have you forgotten – would you even sign a card
Or are you tired of my hectoring, my Lord?
Shiny flecks shimmered of fairies against dirt
Amongst moon-flowers and garlic beds – beauty or gaudy disco-light?
I believed in crumbs of divine scattered shards
Cell-mate and soul-mate, we cannot share in tiny delight
We’re left to search a way through the holy jumble
Fractured by the weight of wonders we cannot see
Are you and I overlooking the fact that
The world is a puzzle that also assembles in 4D?
I would gather the sparkle of a thousand Christmas trees
To shine enough brilliance deep into your weary heart
Stocked up on your beam s and roasted in glow of love
I would be at your side till winter’s end, my most affiliated bard.
Shimmer
(By Gub , 26th of December, 2009, HBC)
Millennia presses coal
In hidden seams
Diamonds’
Eventual
Gleam
We strive to meet our goal.
Dig deep beneath the fallen snow
Powder light
Glistens
And crystals
Glow
Seasons
Come
Shorter sense in meaning
Celebrations hard won.
Transform ice to water
Adorn the rafters with
Festive lace
Spin webs
With flowers
Pinecones
Ribbons red
The house glitters
Inside the sun
Such godly
Imitations
Flatter nature into reason
Close the gap
Between belief
In Love
And all that’s left unsaid
And all that’s left undone.
To Find Love and My Moon
To Find Love
By Sil, June 2009
And I come to you, a desert.
Expansiveness scattered thin.
I pour my thoughts like sand in your vessel
To fill it up to the brim.
And if my scorched soul shall sip water
And my weary mind shall settle within,
We can follow the road
Until darkness unfolds
To find love
A shore unbound
Fishes of purple in spin.
My Moon
By Gub, June, 2009
I promise you memories not yet spun
Future joys, heartaches, pleasures;
far flung.
I promise you laughter, shadows
Traces of light,
Cats’ paws on doorsteps
Children sleep-overs
Spring walks
Summer, autumn
Winters’ Bite
Love’s flowering
Blossoms bloom
I promise you my days
I promise you my moon
Dance with me
Walz together
Through life’s precious breath
Catch this phrase
Bend it to cadence
Push back death
The equinox of marriage
Ballances the real
With a wish
Gentle bindings
Not taught
Blessed with a kiss
Hearts that thump as one
YES,
For what?
My passion will run
and run
Friday, 19 February 2010
Decaded
Decaded
(By Gub, Jan 2010)
I span this seventh decade
With fifty-one years
To my name.
I feel I cheated at sports
Covering so much distance
With so little gain.
If the plaudits of critics
Alone
Count for value or fame.
I’ve married twice
Sired four children
In rude health
Dissolved a couple of fortunes
And had more than one moment of shame.
I sit between the houses
Of history, and chance
Fate is a fickle character
And God?
As mysterious as road signs in France.
Yet life’s abundance
of motions, so many to map
so little time to play every game.
With luck curiosity won’t drive us insane.
Maybe stillness grows
With movement
Rapidity slows
In our veins
Age is a kind
Of declension
Of meaning
That keeps trading
Names.
Blood will flow less freely
As each quest is better framed
The blessed remain fresh in their candour
The more fortunate wild and untamed
Learning is not the length of live, lived,
But the art of running the distance
With the prayer of forgetting
The price of joy is pain.
Dis-Appointed
Herrick
(By Gub, summer 2004, Wales)
I do recall in better times,
Facing forwards,
Not back,
Behind…
And here and there the damp
Dewed grass
Slipped sideways beneath
Our feet..
You took a stone,
Made a wish
Tucked a dream
Inside a kiss
Time moves on,
life contracts
Bone shrinks,
Minds
Impact .…
And what goes is loves
And what stays is hate
And please
Please,
don’t forget……
To shut the gate.
Rain
(By Sil, 2nd of November, 2009)
Above the entrance it is writ
For all that ever dream to visit:
Do not come too near
My dear…
Beware
This beast is hungry and scared
And will devour lover along with love
Maddened by unbearable need and despair.
Yet you have trespassed with love
Surpassed the border-line
By which un-loved is defined.
Sweet sabotage -
A threat nevertheless.
Your relentless pursuit
Drowned sorrow in
Poetry and order
Now wriggle and heave
Under love’s coat of thorns
Sticky toffee apple dipped in bitter weed.
Mouth burning?
There’s not a drop to drink
Arrogant rainmaker
Don’t you know ?
In here it won’t rain
It mustn’t rain
It never rains!
Drop. Drip.
Bloomed
By Gub, 21st of Febr 2006
You sit
You cough
And you spit
Bile back
Into the bone
Furies cannot be exiled
By proxy
Anger is dealt with
Alone
The slip of the globe
From hand to robe
Is the world passing love
Hand to the glove
Tossed from the page
History is changed
What smelt new
Once fresh
Lies discarded
On the floor
Like a teenager’s
Dress
And the forment
The fume
The tantrum
In the empty room
Becomes
The sanitary reality
Of love’s blossom
Bloomed.
I got out of my cradle
By Gub, 2006
I got out of my cradle
Today
And cried
I crawled
Pup-like
Across the floor
Sucking
Blindly
At the
Oak staved door
I mewed
I crowed
I bleeted
I fell…
Grace
Tumbled
Face
Falling
Into
The dark
Deep
Shaft
Of
The wishing well.
You woke
Stark
And stable
erect
And fine
You crept
Cat-like
Into the morning
Shrine
You washed
You watered
You drank deep
Drafts
Of the natural
Odour
Sheep in the grass.
What thoughts
Graze
What synapses
Rasp
In projection
Brushed
Dentures
In the bathroom
Glass.
You chew
You chomp
Through
English oats
Your porridge
Still congealed
On the back of your throat.
You clasp your time
You break through reason
Your back supine
On the city’s
Frisson
The clunk the clatter
Of the early train
You chuck
Emotion
Hunger
Sex
Aside
For
Vocational gain.
The cut
The scissor
Of the job’s
Sharp
Call
You’ve gone
You’ve left
Your breakfast
Dishes
A mess.
Mashed
By Gub, 17th of October, 2008
Locked in a sacred garden
We shed shoots of green and grey
Summer morning and autumn evening
Brick walls keep winter at bay
Yet ice is in natures passing
Chunks of debris crushed by the fall
Laughter stops, frozen by the rasping of
Anger caught in the craw
Alpha will find an ending
Trust will loose the day
Entropy unleashed from the fray
No, nothing lasts forever
The wind
Each second
Unstrung
Heart song
Heard
Forwards
In history
Sounds more
And more like
Something unsung
Uoy evol I
Means as much as words
Unsaid
Except as a brain tease
Without feeling
Or the heartbeat
Collapsed by dread
If the wall that we leant on
Were righteous
If the stones we laid down
Were true
If the start of the journey together
Were built with love that was new
Then the ghost that trespasses in the present
-The fox that steals in the night-
Wouldn’t kill our fledgling dream
Love spared the pain of
Solo flight.
Be careful what you fish for...
(By Gub, 9th of April 2008)
Strongly suggest you upgrade to a better model
A younger chap might be less inclined to wobble.
Better on ancillary features like teeth and hair,
Less inclined to despond, to look backwards, and to fear.
The joys of maturity are much over-rated
Youth’s camp is rightfully gated.
There are hormones and prospects in equal flow
No syringing of history, basking pathetic in the afterglow.
So set out your store, give pride and fresh skin its due
There’s halibut to catch, young trout, well just a few.
Tender salmon may lure you, may smack with surprise
That ruddy pink brightness, the light in their eyes.
The old carp, are bony, are sore with the years
Of biting and fighting of holding back tears.
A young fish will charm you will flit through the rocks
Jump Falls a plenty, bite off the end of fishing rods.
Whilst the ancient sole slips sadly, from seaweed to seabed,
A lifetime of solitary spawning and eyes in the back of his head.
Yes, be careful what you fish for…
Or all will come true – the sea, the ocean – the entire planet’s marine stew….
Tuesday, 16 February 2010
Valentine
Anti-Valentine
(16th of February)
The page never fills
In vain I swim
I’m not made for love,
Or for taking the pill.
I can’t brush my teeth
Of the venom secretion
I bath in your tears
Purifying ablution
I lost my voice
I grew many arms
Grabbed charmed possessions
Protection from harm.
All I am is the tear
Wound that never seals
I bleed and I bleed
You mop up the spills.
Pro-Valentine
(by Gub, 16th of February, Wales)
So
We bleed.
If we feed another’s need
Are we freed
Slightly?
To gaze into the night sky
And watch the comets blaze
To sign each-other's thoughts
With our names
To cross the path of guilt
With pleasure
To share the other's
Verse
Compare rhythm and fucking
We’re on together
As often as we’re off
Our love’s environmentally sound
As frequent lost as it is found
But the battle’s share of
Victories and defeats is ours and ours
Alone.
The love we live
Nothing compares
To what we too achieve
When passion competes.....
Saturday, 6 February 2010
Ceramics of love
The ceramics of love
(By Gub 20th of Sept, 2009, Canada)
...through your absence,
I know your substance,
The void displaced
When you are near...
In my weakness
You are the
Expansion
Of air
That shields my heart
From flying glass
Your hands
The petals
That fold
Tight
Around the cracks 0f my
Fragile vase....
Luminous
Blue veins
Criss-cross fractured
Porcelain lines.
A vessel
Shaken
Only by your laughter
Or stirredby your tears....
Proof
(20th of Sept, 2009, London)
Flaky walls
Cracks
Crumbs
Scattered on the floor
Scattered on the floor
Hungry paws
Crass
Wood-marks in red
Footprints of
Wine-glasses that carelessly bled
Wine-glasses that carelessly bled
Greasy fingers on glass
Scratches
Scouring
Resurfaced mass
Scouring
Resurfaced mass
Life marks its territory
With great pizzazz
Mess delineates
Being from bust
Being from bust
Entropy blends our presence
Into a cocktail of
Meaning
And menace
Meaning
And menace
Every touch
Another dent
Another dent
Our very living
Silent assault
Against the integrity
Of matter
Against the integrity
Of matter
Around us bent
Skin
Skinless
(London, 5th of Jan, 2010)
I admire
This minuscule dragon
This minuscule dragon
Fearless flight
Shielded by electric cape
All blue vibration
And crunch
And crunch
Such perfect mixture of you and I
Unburdened
By promises of fulfilment
By promises of fulfilment
He doesn’t trace
His footsteps in the snow
His footsteps in the snow
Your broken wings
Sag
Sag
Cracked skin
Scraping at doors
Knuckles ragged
Sore
Knuckles ragged
Sore
But pain will subside
And blindness will clear
And blindness will clear
Life is not the layers
But the shedding
But the shedding
Let it snow, let it snow
Flurry mantle
Will swaddle your soul
Will swaddle your soul
Let it snow
Love soothes all…
Small
(By Gub, London, 5th of Jan, 2010)
Where you go
What you see
Who you are..
The detail is not
The might of destiny
The grandeur of heroic calls
But the smallness of a gentle
Purring
A dog’s yawn
At a back-scratching
A child humming
Quietly across the garden
Of falling years
Touch is the provenance
Of love
The gait of holiness
As we walk, together
Through the shifting light
Of the forest.
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