WONDER
I wonder how it is
more stars shoe
when we
make love
and how it is
I know
they
are there
get to notice them
loving you
focussing
on you
both
inside and
out
to
the depth of
my abilities.
WONDER
I wonder how it is
more stars shoe
when we
make love
and how it is
I know
they
are there
get to notice them
loving you
focussing
on you
both
inside and
out
to
the depth of
my abilities.
QUIET
went
quiet
quiet
quiet
had to
restore myself
repair what
was broken
fix everything
stick
back together
weld all
that is ripe
for decay
to all
that is God
BURN
your beauty
burned me
but now
we meet as embers
wanting
to touch
but ever
so cautious
terribly
careful
wondering
as skin
glides
whispers against skin
what it was
back then caused
a conflagration
AGAIN
you are
pointing your beauty
at me again
find myself snapped
in polarized light
trapped
in your cross-hairs
watch the Sun sink
give you the eye as
we turn our
face away from him
can feel the struggle at
the heart
of all those flames
to stop, turn back,
adore, stay
IMPACT
you hit my poem
with a stick
felt it
recoil
under the impact
saw it heard it
absorb
so
much punishment
neither to
understate or
state over
saw the poem
get its own back
throw you such
a curved ball
when you rocked up
with a brush
to sweep
it away
DIGITAL
I remember that day
poetry
went digital
set itself up
somewhere just
beneath the stratosphere
up in the cloud
and now we type away
furiously fighting
for electronic immortality
unless at some precise
moment of
union
and synthesis
the rainbow of those words
filling the entire atmosphere
engineer an accord, a harmony,
never
before imagined
on this fractious ground.
APART
(for Gary Stevenson)
let’s play chess
or set each other
some mathematical problems
take a logical approach
whilst the world falls
to pieces
billions of pieces
some of the pieces
truth be told, however,
now having
accumulated a
most gigantic size
perhaps we might
consider them in
their own right planets
greater
by far, than
our own little
Earth that just broke apart
REVIEW
REVIEW
thanks for
your mixed review
of my introductory chapter
to our new
book on poetry
and sociology
life is in essence
a sociological experiment
and, however you
slice and dice it,
the individual is
a latterday
construct, the group
social fabric and
the polis
all
of these come first
for what is poet if purely
individual? what
good
is that voice
if talking to himself?
better the poet stick with the group, receive those
accolades at
the great Nobel podium
or
chosing
ill-advised in
choice of path
wind up wrong side
of the arm of law
and social
power
stuck in internment
or asylum itself
HEART
I paged
through my selfies
looking for my heart
paged so hard and
with such
fervour
my phone’s screen seemed
to begin melting
its vital works
collapse.
THIS VIKING THING
this Viking thing
brothers in the shield wall
standing together
brothers
fighting for supremacy
amongst themselves
shield wall
against shield wall
hard to
wrap my head around
the bravery, cruelty
of these people
flows
through my blood
and yet
I understand it not