Thursday, 4 October 2018

With Us, There is No Such Thing as Goodbye.

He said:
   “With us, there is no such thing as goodbye.”
        I found myself on the shore
           Of grey wind & wave break
             Before me, a rocky headland,
                To my right dunes, hissed
                  With wisps of grass.
                     Only the sound of wind & water could be heard,
                        No bird called or appeared.
                           I walked the strand,
                              Alone but not alone,
                                 Alone but never Alone.
                              Above my head
                          A plain of strato-cumulus
                        Blanketed the scene with more silvery grey
                     But beyond it,
                 Way out,
             The energetic origin of our atmosphere
          The sun
        Still shone
   I made my way upon the shore.
 He said:
“With us, there is no such thing as goodbye.”

For National Poetry Day 2018

Monday, 3 September 2018

My Heart Knows Where I Really Am

My heart knows where I really am,
Here with you
Beloved Ancients

It is a smooth sculpted hollow in stone.

I know that you are never far from me,
But I honour you here, today
In this place

Hard & dark as slate or river red & scallop sculpted

Mother Earth!
You are not what we think you are,
You are deeper than we can know

I do not need to pretend to understand this universe.

The age of the rocks that are the bones of this our land
Leads me to the timeless
Unborn place

My own deepest nature unites me with this jagged shore.

This poem written on the Isle of Man, August 2018. Photos by Barry.

Sunday, 19 August 2018

Depleted Uranium

I haven't been very active on this blog this year, but I have been having adventures & writing a bit. I have a poem, Depleted Uranium in the recent Tomorrow Issue of Here Comes Everyone, an excellent magazine containing lots of original poetry, prose & artwork.

From the poem:
If it rhymes it must be lying because it's history
Written by our future rulers, not future Buddhas
Too late for the nucleus or the neutron
Barium, caesium, planet Krypton chain mail
Heavier than heavy earth; mind-metal
The drum solo on side two of the live album
Percussion capture cannot lie but the percussionist can.

Buy it here!

Friday, 2 February 2018

We Dare Not Confront the Mystery that We Are

most of what we are is blind in the unseen dark
the abyss between the cell membranes flutters
with delicate breathing forces for which we have no names
we are a mystery to ourselves

most of what we are is what we are doing right now
but we do not know it nor can we, nor can we take charge of it
the wild systems of of our deeper nature
do not recognise what we call a self

most of what we are is a sleeping ocean

that dreams of the world of thoughts & things
which it cannot understand but to which it must try to respond
it cannot distinguish between the creative & the stupid

most of what we are is dissolved in water
stacked in sheets or coiled in the forest networks
of a secret country for which there are no maps
in which there is no sense of direction

most of what we are is patterned in conversations
carried by our uncontrollable blood
& because we are so afraid of this we will do anything
to avoid looking within

so let us fixate upon celebrities, politicians & members of our family
let us fall in love, become angry & then watch TV
let us pray to imaginary gods with our clasped hands & lowered gazes:

we dare not confront the mystery that we are