Love Crescent

(the 24th of December 2013, HBC)

Winter’s bent spoon
Feeds
Rambling pheasants
Moths swoon
Against cold windows
Dark owls
Salute
Venus and the Moon.
Night casts its last frock,
Light
Writes a new days’ blog
Where mud meets sky
Our dreams
Blunt the spear
Of Tomorrow
Awash with feeling,
Weighted in the mire,
I limp
on a cobbled street
Called “Love Crescent”.

The Child

(the 15th of October, 2014)

When the morning’s saw tears through the last ragged dream bands
I bury my nose under his chin, cup his head in my hands
I relish his sweet scent and it’s power to soothe
Grieve the closeness we’ll miss with the shedding of youth.

Stars still hang on his ceiling, suns and moons on his wall
A bite-size universe, galaxies rolled tight, offered back as a beach ball
For him, I’ve conjured up wonderlands, shovelled snow in a sack
Enchanted forests, spider-webs and other miracles - he no longer needs me to hack.

I’m a cast-off stone he keeps in his pocket
And he’ll smooth the rough edges, grind the teeth on the old sprocket
I’ll watch him bounce on river-banks, pray his shoulders won’t burn
Though my own childhood pools gawp empty and the swimmers are gone.

Picture from Hergest Ridge

(the 29th of April, 2014, )

I pound the moss
I dwell everywhere
I am beat,
Breath
A peculiar joint
That bends both ways
A mind without a dwelling
And I could run, run, run like this
Rested in my exertion
Imagine me slipping gently down the spine
Of a giant undulating saurus
Sandwiched
Between horizons
Every step counts
The beast’s vertebrae
To the last one.
And beyond?
Turtles all the way down.

Your Valentine

By Gub  (14th of February 2014, Belfast)

We make love
We model a universe -
An artefact

maybe,
But still
teems with life.

We gift to the world
A sacred thing
For love folded in this
Way - stardust and clay-
Bequeaths to time
A precious trajectory

Memory
fleshed
Out
In full relief 

A human Poem.

To have written
In concert,
Played our part
In holy mimesis;
Darkness will not steal
What the light will not yield.

Mad Rivers

(14th of February, 2014)

Mad rivers stand
Between my cheek
And your heart
Boundless,
Restless
They churn
Stirred horses
No strap
Scrap
The landscape
The very concepts
Of "under" and "above"
A whole world
Reduced to a bucket
What can contain
Such onslaught
And for how long
It will be spring,
It will be spring
I say tightening my grip on the wheel,
Praying
For some solid ground
Some forward motion
To propel me
To where my deepest comfort lies
That warm scent
That lingers on your nape.
Outside our door
Timid shoots
The fingertips of a miniature hand
Feel their way
To the light
It will be spring.

Compression

(By Gub, Belfast, 21st of March, 2014)

Compression

On my chest

Life

passes in a

Second

The vanity

Of breath -

To gain back all

That death

Will steal

What fortitude

Stands

Is but

Little blocks

Cast across the

Nursery floor

The laughter of the child

Rolling down the terraced

Haha - the privet adorned in

Lacey dew 

The sun's heat

On a sleeping cheek

The white white linen

Of a convent's sheet

The lark and the colour

Of spring in the mist filled

May...

Life's lust for life

Which keeps the gift

Alive

This small

Point

Tempers the vastness

Of the universe

The coolness of that distant

Planet bereft of blue or green

The baron absence of any being

Enough to weep joy for all that can be seen.

Both Roads

Today we'll take both roads

The well-worn memory fuse,

The walled deer enclosure

We’ll have the sun and the moon

Birdsong - gun

Plane, dew-drop

Life will sing many songs

And we will listen to all.