Archive for the ‘poetry’ Category

Gortenbuie

Saturday, August 20th, 2011

Gortonbuie

All is calm in the land of giants,
On a rare windless day,
Water the only sound,
Life has stopped.

The sheep, still in the roofless cottage,
Belongs there as much as any,
Regular visitor, like us it has not moved
As the heavens move all.

The generations have not returned,
Chilled hearth, three chimneys,
One lofty precious pot survives,
Defiant, hope in an unforgiving land.

Two oaks guard the ruin,
Glacial debris,
Turf covered stone,
The eagle, the stag and the mountain hare.

Revolutions pass and global markets crash
But here the peace is deep,
Across the glen shadows creep,
Expectations of tomorrow.

Time rediscovered, absent clock,
Decisions of the day fundamental,
Seconds counted by the foot, unscientific measure,
Tired, we lie in our beds and absorb the noise.

After forty years of mortarboard and gown

Sunday, July 17th, 2011

The outgoing headmaster is far from retiring,
It’s pastures new, not out to grass,
His mark is made, register overflowing,
On final examination, the best in class.

For Mr Paul Strong who after 25 years is moving on from William Farr School to pursue other projects.

Locked in

Sunday, July 17th, 2011

XWhere shall we go on holiday, dear?

We often like Turkey at this time of year…

I don’t know about you, but I fancy.. Something new!

Have a look on the ‘net, see what’s to do?

So I pulled up my chair and opened a query;
My search engine loaded, the answer was speedy:
“Autumn holidays, not too pricey”
30 million results, that’ll do nicely!

Kalkan, Dalaman, Ankara, Antalya;
Something about these sound quite familiar?
Places we’ve been to, things we’ve seen…
Top of the list from the Google machine.

traffic report

Monday, July 11th, 2011

The herd winds slowly home,
Nose to tail, unthinking! lost,
Frustration the daily grind
Staring and more dull staring,
Unquestion!
The reports come in,
Collection of incidents,
All roads blocked, all routes crawl,
Times have been better,
The short lived excitement of the clear run
Now lane swap looking for the extra yard
Attrition of the modern motorway
Trench warfare system.

Veneer of self determination
The traffic jam goes nowhere in a hurry and that is life.

the deep twilight

Monday, June 27th, 2011

the deep twilight

the deep twilight
stillness before the night
millennium of silence

The silent piano

Saturday, June 25th, 2011

I hear the silent piano,
inarticulate virtuosity
played only for one soul.
Masterclass in deep relaxation,
as the mind escapes
the tempo falls and rises.

Confusion of Harmonies

Monday, June 20th, 2011

Sharp
Harmony injected into my shoulders
Pummel,
I can feel my face swelling up
Pounding
Nearly cry out
Chop
The futility holds me back
Relentless
Will this never stop?
Knead
Not sure I want it to end
Explosions
Naked, open fields, expose to the elements
Ripple,
Wave upon wave, carried in upon the wind
Deafening
Initially my eyes screw up but I learn to
Relax

Out of the shadows

Saturday, June 18th, 2011

We fear the shadows,
not for what lurks there
but for what we might do
if we wore that cloak.

The chilling Vaudeville mask,
fixed in constant mockery,
gives echo to our own hollow laughter,
gives mirror to our cynical eyes.

Behind the opaque glass of bureaucracy
we stand ready to pass judgement,
emboldened to a thousand anonymous noes,
yet troubled as we take our turn in line.

We might stifle a shudder
as the new bill is passed into law
but who would raise a voice
against the promise of security we all crave?

Tomorrow’s breakfast news announces
that we are the silent enemy within,
confirming our suspicions,
and so we nod obediently in guilty approval.

A pen takes pause before
it can confess to the unwritten page,
lest it note down some truth
and leave its author to apologise later.

Then, as each darkened screen comes to life,
relegating shadows to a corner of the room,
a bright young thing appears in High Definition,
insisting that she is heard.

“We have had enough of question time
and doubts that drive us into our neighbours’ homes,
over our colleagues’ shoulders,
merely to attend to our own insecurities.”

Beneath studio lights she continues
“The answers are all here – not there”,
gesturing from around her
toward the panel and their darkening faces.

“If I watch over your shoulder, but from the front
as you watch over mine –
or if we are back to back, even –
how should we ever be defeated?”

“Only if I turn my eyes,
look with suspicion at your heel
and cause you to mistrust my care,
then will we be caught unaware.”

“We were ever connected –
only the medium is new,
and that is poor excuse to warrant disconnection,
promote uncertainty, doubt and division.”

“Our community is stronger than ever,
in size and scope and skill
and we will support each other openly,
without need for dark places and closed doors.”

Applause like a hundred shuttered windows opening,
echoed by many thousand fingers typing,
is signal that a switch
has taken place.

The social networks are set ablaze;
a shared vision begins to form,
of mutual ownership at the speed of light,
rendering private fears into obsolescence.

We fear the shadows,
we act like strangers,
and then the daylight comes.

Be Bold: [rhetoric, for a friend]

Thursday, June 16th, 2011

Be Bold:
the World is hungry for you
and those ideas will
eat you up inside
otherwise

Take Heart:
you may have planted
a thousand unfruitful seed
yet one will be plenty,
should it grow,
and it will grow, mightily,
lifting you with it.
Keep planting.

Be Brave:
snuff the tiny voice in you
that squeals
“I can’t…”
“..but..”
“..but..”;
it is killing you.

Dare.
Dare and we all win;
it’s not difficult –
you just find it too easy
to think it so.

There’s enough of you to go around,
and so
give it away;
your gift is meant for others –
that which is not consumed
becomes stale,
an unseemly ornament.

Reach out:
many a dream
requires a touch from another’s hand
before
it can be grasped.

Relish
your friend’s victories –
they taste sweeter than your own;
you have your reward already:
you feel alive again.

Unite
your passions,
your will,
your friends and well-wishers, all;
you will not fail.

Defy
the odds,
the naysayers,
the obstacles and unknowables;
your success will become certain
in time.

And so
Be Bold,
my friend:
it speaks of who you are
and everything you will yet become.

Platform 3

Friday, June 3rd, 2011

“Staff Only” ,
Door opens,
Team strides out,
Bag in hand,
Insulated travel mugs
Primed and ready to go,
That look of purpose,
Professionals with a job to do,
A train to drive,
Tickets to check,
The driver guard combo,
Immaculate turnout.

Passengers look on,
Couple with pink expanding suitcase,
Unshaven old man in grey suit,
Black Labrador dog at his side,
Make no comment,
Nothing registers.

I check my phone for messages.

The June sun brightens up the morning and
The train pulls in to platform 3

fishy thoughts

Wednesday, June 1st, 2011

My thoughts are like fish with every scale filled.

My bright ideas twinkling on and off,

Sometimes remembered sometimes forgot,

New thoughts old thoughts fill my brain.

Some shimmering fishes fall asleep and don’t wake up,

Others dance and prance to not be forgotten

In the debris of tomorrow

Tuesday, May 24th, 2011

In the debris of tomorrow
i will find you
and lift you from the dust

In the debris of tomorrow
i will gather gems you lost
and take them with us

In the debris of tomorrow
we will learn our value
and barter ‘gainst our worthless toys

In the debris of tomorrow
we will taste again
amongst the the dispossessed

In the debris of tomorrow
we will kiss scorched earth
and plant a new life there

In the debris of tomorrow
things that made us cry
will appear small amidst the tumult

In the debris of tomorrow
we will leave fear behind
and press onward through the dark

In the debris of tomorrow
fierce realities
will not part my hand from yours

In the debris of tomorrow
we will take a different path

In the debris of tomorrow
one good shoe
will fetch a thousand shillings

In the debris of tomorrow
iron and sweat
become politic

In the debris of tomorrow
magic and science
will be allies again

In the debris of tomorrow
forgotten tools
will regain their edge

In the debris of tomorrow
i will be your shield
and you will be my heart

In the debris of tomorrow
we will build a home for future kings

In the debris of tomorrow
honest friends
will be all we can afford

In the debris of tomorrow
there will be much to do;
we will have no time for sorrow

In the debris of tomorrow
faint-hearted sun will start;
the faded moon will close

In the debris of tomorrow
will we find god?
will god find us?

In the debris of tomorrow
there will be more questions than answers

In the debris of tomorrow
is kindness and hope
coated in soot and hunted for dinner

In the debris of tomorrow
is our untainted love
and a catch at a fleeting chance

In the debris of tomorrow
we will prevail

In the debris of tomorrow
is another day

The Piccadilly Alternative

Wednesday, May 18th, 2011

The next station is…
Kings X – 11 stops to go
Russell Square – don’t get off here unless your name is Russell
Holborn – hmm
Covent Garden – party-time ‘n flaars
Leicester Square – nowhere near Leicester guv’nor and not pronounced lie sester
Piccadilly Circus – alright Jim?
Green Park – for a picnic
Hyde Park Corner – watch out for the traffic
Knightsbridge – only if you’re posh
South Kensington – just as posh really
Up and down the – Gloucester Road?
Earls Court – will do fine
…for what it’s worth.

Mind and body crumble

Sunday, May 15th, 2011

old age beckons

Dissipation of the mind
crumbling of the body
simplification of living
shaking of unshaken beliefs
fade to credits…

We toil

Wednesday, May 11th, 2011

Do not be fooled.
These streets, paved with gold,
glisten with bent back sweat,
dripped and sleeve dried of narrow eyes
that hurt in the salt soaked sunshine
and half moon light.
No riches.
Simple broken ends, hammered by the waves
and buried by the mocking seagull’s cry.