Poetry

Some poems from the last couple of weeks….of peace, love, moodiness and defiance, in that order.

Hate. It rises like steam on piss.

The first poem is an antidote to that.

It’s oft said and a little cheesy, but being the change we want to be in the world really is the best way of making a difference. The more negative the world gets, the more this applies.

Keep shining, beautiful people. Whatever you are going through, don’t let the bitterness of others and the wider world infect you with its nasty bite.

There is art, there is beauty, there is love.

There is you.

I’ve been hearing hate of late

I’ve been hearing hate of late

It barbs each conversation

The prejudice imbalance paints

Stokes fear without foundation

We gravitate to what we know

And what we know is war

Forgetting purpose in our hearts

What we were put here for

.

I’ve been hearing hate of late

I care to name no names

The scripts they change, the faces blur

The message just the same

We all have lots upon our plate

Tussling with life’s gristle

Who can say they’re doing great

Who gives a toss to listen?

.

Yes, I’ve been hearing hate of late

So had me an idea

It’s up to me to cultivate

What I will see and hear

Reject the energy of woe

Those spreading hostile feeling

Attract the love I want to hone

Our world is ripe for healing

The Best Dream

I have many dreams

Coins lost to sofas

But there’s one fat wren that chats keenest in its hawthorn rouse of me.

I’m running

Bounding down uneven alleys, chased by drooling wolves

My heart, pounding ball in an airless squash court

Nerves strung, cat gut tight.

And then……

Around that last corner before the sharp drop, the toppling plunge to lord knows where

That very last corner….

You’re waiting.

I lean forward, zombie, arms outstretched

You catch me like a dad catches a child first time on roller skates

Wobbly wheels grind to a halt.

Noise dissolves like pips of Wednesday rain saved in a jar to watch die on a sunny sill.

Riddles stop falling as blades and hammers from mouths.

Love. Is. Here!

(Its exclamation mark, discreet as December in a bikini).

Love is a song filled treehouse, rosy and sturdy in the bosom of teething cheek apples.

We hug and twirl, the way people did after the war.

My frock fans out, expectant parachute filling with air

I am marigold, turquoise and brilliant poppy spinning, heady on your delicious breeze

Our eyes form a rope bridge, minds braiding willingly as doll hair.

What’s more, we’re brave enough to walk it.

Tenderly. Apprehensively.

My hand in yours.

And we decide we’ll never look down.

Again.

November Night

Sea mist shawls the cliffs that brawl

With waves that wear their amber

Damp hisses heave to stars

Wool sky obscures each midnight gambler

My vision steeped in opal shine,

Moon’s marinading spell

As call of gull rings over hill

To creeks where seal dwell.

Roaming bergs that dupe the ships

Mock land as boasting pirates

Rocks huddle as black skittles

Clipped by ocean’s crashing violence

Rabbits lie in chambered earth

Secure in velvet slumber

As predators in feather

Gather steady in their number.

The loom of air constructs a weave

So tight it scuppers breath

As light of life is wrestled

By the lashing leash of death

Exhale in chalk, let shadows stalk

North wind chimes further fight

I vanish, violet blemish

On a bruised November night.

Star Gazer Lily

I sprawled, a thirsty lily

Sucked up wonder through your straw

Eager for a candour

Hooked on what your spyglass saw

You gazed with tender scrutiny

My muse of promised land

I commissioned you as sculptor

Gave my clay unto your hand

.

How you stretched me as a poet

On the torture of your rack

Tried to drown me in deep water

But this kitty’s swimming back.

I was shaped into a Venus

I was knocked back down as dough

I was baked upon a pyre

Of fiery women that you know

.

You tell me that you warned me

It was gonna go this way

Turning blessings into lesser

Is a game you like to play

Well, I’ll be gazing starry heavens

As you’re grazing on old ground

You’ll be six and I’ll be seven

Making light of dark profound

.

There’ll be worse to pierce this valley

Choke this thunder, hold your tongue

Let your curse become my ballet

Dancing right into your wrong

If you think that you can break me

Well…..I never was your bread

I remain a thirsty lily

So, go suck on that instead.