WROTE
wrote
a poem
for you
the words
bleeding through
memories so
powerful
painful
hearts
torn
in
two
Tag Archives: loss
A WORD
A WORD
let me have a word
let me fill
you in
from a poetry
am going to need
twenty, maybe
thirty
thousand
characters already
oops1 sorry,
my apology
did I say
“characters”?
that was a bit
of a fatal Freudian slip
I meant to say “words”;
no sorry: lines
no I am completely wrong
in the wrong
to do this justice
I need to write
the final
death count
as poems
LIKE A
LIKE A
was
light years ahead
and now
I am dead
soul free to roam
in that dark space
ghost
music only
ghost poetry
voices, songs
Ginsberg, McGough, Henri,
Patten,
Ferlinghetti, Corso,
the Beatles,
Hendrix, Cream
and the Rolling Stones
FROM THE PLACE
FROM THE PLACE
I write
from the place where
dreams come
to be
extinguished
when space, no longer
finds itself available to
generate
a rich tapestry
and all our ideas
what we were, what
we are
comes to be recycled
and the energies that
command, take charge
are
no longer our own.
THAT WILLIAM BLAKE CHARACTER
THAT WILLIAM BLAKE CHARACTER
saw that William
Blake character
on social media
disagreed about the war
had a few sharp words
fresh from this exchange
looked him up
found
not a word on Wikipedia
save a reference to a character
in a Jim Jarmusch film
which seriously flustered me
for I had got this notion
into my head
about this far from prototypical
radical
early nineteenth century
English Romantic poet
but seems it is all a myth, a false flag,
huge disinformation
which
stands to reason,
for if there were really
a Songs of Innocence and
a Songs of Experience
think how
different the world would be
ALONG
UK OK (not so very)
still solid
(courtesy of Victorian
architecture)
crazy high aquaducts
(now exactly what
do they do?)
university I went to
down main road manchester
freshly
returned from
south africa
settler colonial
(apartheid to
god knows who else
and me
and you)
but on that diet of dismal
how stuff going to grow properly?
how stuff going to flourish
when for best moral fibre
getting
force-fed gloom
red, white, blue
flag should be slate grey and
colour
most exploitative
see your politicians now
scared at the thought
people
might
have their
own ideas
university down oxford street
(or was it road?)
taught me something
about the
economic of F and K
(plaque proclaims
them
the previous tenants)
anarchy
OK OK strawberries
spoiled, by
this time
was
the late 70s
ust rattle your cheap jewellery here
and I’ll
imagine
in falsetto
less than happily singing along
YOU
YOU
would have loved it
if you had had
the chance
to read this poem
sometime in the life
you are never
going to have
outrage, revenge,
brutal inhumanity
turned you into
a statistic
and I am
not the right person
to tell you
about love, life, the joy
of being a human being
with your death
I have
lost the faith
HOLE
DRIZZLE
THIS THING
THIS THING
this thing, suffering,
never
thought about it really
when we were
together
before the fracture,
time of complete loss
yes that short time
of beauty
I do not remember
much about it now
why, how
it could not be sustained
thinking about the drive home
immediately after our
marriage
no reason to think
of suffering
suffering there lying
in wait somewhere
outside us
or, already primed, set
to destroy,
lodged within
poems 2 die for 