Grey sky over Pimlico

leafless branches shudder ,freezing

cold air worms its way 

round doorways and under windows

i look out from the shadows

perched on my sofa , writing

the slow rupture of the sky

by massive engines slung heavenward

the streets are relatively empty

the righteous working above

Massive foyers ,

birds whistle and wonder

at their amazing day 

up with the sun

insanity of the early hours

pandemonium

 

 

Half week

 

The weeks halfs are in my hand

like broken China

I look forward

the race half won

20 ,40 years of time split

into weekly sevens

5 and 5 and 5

seems like an eternity

but this is only a lie

and when the weeks finished

or even a day

I ride the wave in

hanging 10

sometimes ........

 

Great Work

 

amoungst the sub marine

corridors

various things must be

done

the monotony of

yesterday

is a shallow recollection of

truth

now each action is

perfect

the system asks only

peace

of a previously tired

body

peering through

vines

and so another face of the

diamond

granite hard

sparkles

 

Today and Yesterday

 

The day is smothered by darkness,

The musicians have not been paid,

Cathedrals wallow in shadows,

Priests go home for dinner,

And sterile television,

The truth drips from stone doorways,

I have seen impossible visions,

I have gathered ideas and applied them,

Its still washing up and flower arrangements,

Outside on the street,

The rain saturates stone and wood,

The cold laughs madly and forgets nothing,

So walk home and carry your prayers,

Work on all your muscle groups,

And breath with organic lungs,

Before the sports cars tyres are bare,

Before the mechanics weep to lose a race,

The human race dresses accordingly,

You there scholar ,write your poems,

And i will burn them with idiotic matches.

 

Sunday

 

The beaches are empty,

The grey sky drags along the horizon,

There's a craving for chips,

Just a few more hours of freedom,

Then sleep and the five day week,

 

The parks support the peoples need,

For a day of wildlife,

Sadly hemmed in by city stone,

They wander,

Then sleep and the five day week,

 

What will we do to fill the golf,

Shall we lose 2 hours,

In a big shinney cinemas,

Floating on clouds of pop corn,

Then sleep and the five day week,

 

Look to our lives,

Take this day and make it ,

feel like a month,

It might work,

Then sleep and the five day week,

 

A helicopter flys over,

Our big black sofa,

A car breezes by ,

Scissor legged pedestrians cut about,

Then sleep and the five day week.

 

Tube from Acton North

I sit dumfounded with

the monotony of it all

centre of a near empty

carriage

then the scenery

catches my eye

trees full of summer leaf

waving

three stations till

under underground

where will my eye

find rest

tubes running along

the tunnel wall

related to my intestine

tube filling up

with characters

50s cartoon reflections

on curved corner windows

the two door exit,

worthy of a space ship

a man in an

aqua marine jumper

sits beneath an

aqua marine advertisement

there are things of interest

everywhere

let me not

miss any of them

Shangri la

 

Sun

The sky is filled,

With unfathomable blue,

feather clouds streak,

and the sun,

a white light round and flashing,

perched high in the heavens,

glancing at it momentarily,

sun blindness,

mirages,

summer time bathing,

in ultra violet.

 

The Mermaid

 

Adrift in the sea,

dancing in the waves,

caught by the tide,

surfacing, mingling with

the oceans music,

leaving the water momentarily 

to deliver one

perfect kiss 

to a drunken sailor.

 

Desert Sun

The sun has melted,

 Into the blue,

Under the warm seas,

I find some shade,

And have an easy conversation,

With my beautiful wife,

About life,

After an hour in the park,

She to retreated to the dark,

And now designs works on paper,

Works on canvas,

Beyond description,

Visions of landscape,

Existential ,Martian ,

From forever,

Creatures strange and new ,

Benign sea monsters,

The earth mother,

behorned  ,winged ,tentacled ,

Connecting all species,

New worlds , this world,

This paradise.

 

Peace on earth

 

The sun hangs,

Over the tube station,

silver sword rays,

cut the skys,

a seat on the,

lovely tube carriage ,

time to think,

time to pray,

drops you 3 stations on,

corridors and stairs,

aware of my breathing,

the next train,

has been stripped,

by saintly years ,

here lies a throne,

blue carpet,

skating of to the suburbs,

sliding sideways,

a myriad of bricks ,

an explosion of green green leaves,

then the street,

with tired feet,

tab up to the,

amazing super market,

and how time sculpts,

city landscapes,

in at the perfect warehouse,

under a lucky 7,

where the coffees expensive,

but you can afford it.

 

 

 May Saturday

The grey clouds bring the tropics

to summers florescent leaves

the winds toss and turn

the rain falls distantly

ghostly mosquito legs on the horizon

drifting across crowded London

the new and old buildings

seem all mixed up and out of place

though not always

just today under the monkeys picnic

avoid spinning doorways

we climbed up to

covent garden

all cheap signs and

out door aluminium chairs

a multi coloured rabbit warren

the silver star on my jacket

grows larger and more intricate.

2019

Green time

The florescent leafs

conspire together

to strangle the

the street lamps light

beneath, the black Maria ,

driven by ghosts

waits for god knows what,

this room is tidy

looking up and out,

all scenes are

decorated by

a large red post box

Max Ernst would have

enjoyed

the musics playing

but i cant here it

still trying to remember

30 years ago

when it seemed

profound

i will tune in

when I’m good and ready

picture dreams

stacked floor to ceiling

await the avid collector

somewhere on this

dull planet

2019

Have you seen

I read my bible

go to church on Sunday

prey

hidden in these 3

are immense vistas

deep and powerful prose

music

dance

joy and hope

with in this

life’s journey

the freedom of the weak

a myriad of things

made clear

shining

stand before the king

call him brother

The bridge

I stand on the bridge

the sun is still bright

I’m mesmerised by the

white hot reflection

it has the look

of Chinese characters

a constant repartition

of 3 sentences

carried by wind kissed

waves

i glance about

listening to Nirvana unplugged

the actions around

people walking

a young seagull

learning twigs aren’t tasty

but theres something

something in the way

the entire scene

is playing out

something amazing

and soon my love

shall complete the picture

and we shall walk hand

in hand .

2019