The Wheat Weighs Heavy in the Wind

The wheat weighs heavy in the wind
And I love you.
Drops of sun slide down your skin
You turn and flash that Cheshire grin
Unfurl your limbs and call me in.
I love you.

The poppy petals flash with fire
And I love you.
They form the field's cathedral spire
Echoing our private choir
Heralds of the night's empire
I love you.

Murder

What words are there?
What can express the cavernous illogicality
Of a murder?
To take a knife
To take a gun
To take a life.
Is there any way of understanding?
Is it just random happenstance?
So futile
So short-sighted, yet so far reaching.
Effects far across geography and genealogy.
Thousands of feelings torn.
And for what?

When Lizards Left

The T-rex bent and sniffed the ground
The ground it ran away.
The T-rex wondered what the heck
Was happening today.

First it had been the tree that flew
And then the rain that curled.
The crazy hadrosaur that lived in the cave
Said it was the end of the world.

They all laughed at the hermit,
Said that his pea-brain had shrunk.
There was no way that lizard-kind
Was going to go ker-plunk!

...

Too Late

His mouth moved
A glottal gulp
Lips so stiff and neck so loose
Body at odds
With thoughts and words
A flickering limb
A listener's pause
A weighted toy about to fall.

The Sea Shore Show

The whelk he told the mussel
The mussel told the crab
The crab waved his claw in semaphore
Relayed by a fluttering dab.
The message was screamed by a ranging gull
That echoed from crest to crest.
"The moon is high in the winter sky,
It's time for the talent contest!"

...

Clean and clear

It's in the buzz of the vacuum,
The angry growl
Cleaning the floor with a cut and a thrust.
I've learned to avoid this frenzied dance
The sweeping tarantella
I wouldn't want to be the dust.
Turning my back, I scrub the pans
Feign focus
Avoid your gaze or turn to rust.
It's in the spritz of the chemicals
That acrid hiss
Each surface sterilised because you must.
I sweep and fumble the dustpan and brush
Under your feet
You beat the cushions until concussed
When it's done we drift to bed
Single in silence
I dream the night might see such lust.

Zumba Shorts

She took up Zumba from an early age
The latest craze, all the rage,
Sweated it out three nights a week,
Raised the roof, or so to speak.
In actual fact, the roof came down.
The crash was heard throughout the town.
Luckily, no-one was hurt,
Though doctors came on high alert.
The debris from the roof supports
Slipped right off their lycra shorts.

The Animals' Plan

The zebra smiled in black and white
The toucan clicked its beak
The lions agreed not to fight
As the elephant stood to speak.

"Our world is fast receding
That much we all know,
These humans keep on breeding
And never seem to slow."

"I ask every bird and beast
To come up with a plan.
To survive we have to try at least
To get out if we can."

All the animals discussed the mission
The hyenas stood and spoke
The other beasts were slow to listen
They assumed it was just a joke.

But soon the animals all agreed
To the hyenas' cunning plan.
They set it in action at top speed
To save themselves from man.

...

Blue and breathless

We met on a blue summer night
Under growling clouds
Air thick with insects and ozone

Breathless and sweating
We span our spark
A full flight of stories
Light pulled out to breaking point.

I knew then as the grass grew darker
That the apex had been passed
The course of life forever altered.
Lips brushed skin and echoed from hill to hill.

The start

Sorry - out last night and ran out of time to post. Here's yesterday's...

And so it goes
And so it's gone.
First and last are here again
Butterflies and building stress
And this
And that.
And still the fear
The doubt
Unworthy failure.
Is it?
Could it?
Time will tell.

Crash

Today, I had a very strong feeling
That while driving home
I'd crashed and died.
My brain had then constructed
This world all around it.
So that I thought I'd survived
And driven home as normal,
But in fact I was dead in heaven.
I believed it so strongly
That I felt physically sick
And afraid.
Weird how strong the brain can be.

Jealous of the Sun

I finally caught you
In your shame
Dancing over hills
With your lover, the sun.
Head back
As you bathed in golden rays,
Embraced his warmth,
Welcomed him into your arms
Like you'd known him before.
Naked and carefree,
Bronzed and beautiful.
Everything I could not offer
Was yours.
And so I retreated, biding my time
Until dusk when I
Took you as mine once again.

An Operation

An operation
First cut bites
Blood weeps thick like engine oil
Draw the knife
One eye closed
Sharp squint like a blade of glass
Two worlds sundered
End to end
The blight excised
And body bound tight
Wound a hundred times
And tied
The fire still burns

The Rhinocerous

Lonely and proud
On a dirt hill you stood
Snorting and pawing
The ground at your feet.
Iron grey and ivory
Folded skin hanging like destiny
Heavy upon you.
Some endings are not new beginnings.

Build up to the end

Internal and external
Sounds that swim and intermingle
Moving between worlds.
A car crash, A lowing cow
A ticking clock, a snoring man.

Just Dust

Echoes on the bare walls
Silence in the long halls
No footsteps clatter, children chatter
Now you feel like nothing matters
What's the point of living any more?

The kitchen smells of damp and mold
Fires that have too long run cold
Meals were cooked while family looked
Long before you first were hooked
Now it's all just dust blowing out the door.

A Very British Summer

The cold that curls the nasal hairs
The damp that dims the brain
The breeze that blows the birds off course
The ocean's worth of rain

Gusts that would tear the tiles from a roof
And snatch a child's balloon
Hail the size of Brussels Sprouts
And all of this in June!

The ancient blade

Pause and collect a jagged stone
Split from anger
While all around the sea smooths
Neighbours and pebble family trees.
But this one sharp like an ancient axe
Edge to pull the skin from a catch.
Lean in close and run your thumb
From top to bellowed curve.
Disappointed when no blood erupts
Like a slip with a new knife.
It's only a pebble after all.

Last Year's Diary

The flowers bloom and fade
And still you don't come home
Days and nights mean nothing anymore.

The light flickers out
Blue and black my skin and bone
Last year's diary pages on the floor.

Something Moved

Something moved.
There, again!
A skittering, unnatural jittering
Over the floor and under the sink.
Closer now, careful!
Hands cupped in readiness
Shine the light this way,
That way,
There!
It's coming this way!
Leap on the chair.
Let out a shriek
To show it who's boss.
Slap at it, swat it
Clap hands together.
Stamp and stamp
Until it's gone.

The Curse of Silence

We stand in silence
Broken breaths between us fall
What once were words remain unspoken
As moths fading in the moonlight

A Slug in Our Bed

"A slug in our bed?"
"That's what I said,
A small and slimy beast.
Poking his nose
Where we keep our toes
On the lookout for a feast."

"Begging your pardon,
Why's it not in the garden?
Isn't that where they usually hide?"
"I must confess
That I can only guess
At how it came inside."

"My guess would be
That it traveled with me
When I brought in the washing.
It grabbed on to the rim
As I brought it in
And now on our duvet it's noshing!"

The Softest Missile

I went to the door
Said I'll see you later
You came at me
With your toilet paper
Scented, padded, puppy soft
You screamed as you whirled it aloft
It wrapped around my neck and tightened
I have to admit I was a little bit frightened
Until I tugged and snapped the line
And left you shouting there behind
I should have run, but instead I strolled
And you attacked me with the rolls
Hurled head height with all your might
They cartwheeled swift and true in flight
And struck me with a muffled thud
The softest missile to draw blood.

Caroline Quirk

Caroline Quirk was unhappy
Her husband was not who she thought
His forehead had gone a bit slappy
And he rubbed it while watching the sport.

His other hand was on his belly
He patted the rotund lump
While sitting and watching the telly
In his legs akimbo slump.

When they married he'd been a lot thinner
All curls and dashing good looks
She thought she'd been onto a winner
When she signed the registry books.

Unfortunately as years went by
He seemed to age at double time
Lost the sparkle in his eye
Drowned his verve in beer and wine.

So Caroline had woken one day
And decided enough was enough
Called a friend and went to stay
Taking with her most of her stuff.

She found that she couldn't relax
And started to date other guys
But she was soon put off by hairy backs
And wobbly orange peel thighs.

She thought that it might be a class thing
And looked for someone a bit posher
But found that her love everlasting
Was a white Hotpoint dishwasher.

Missing Persons

Throughout my life
I have been blessed with
Treasured friends
People who I depend on
And love
But years grow long
And thin
Those names I cared for are
Slipping from view
Butterflies creating their own chaos
What's left to me now
Books and books of memories
Pale and wistful

The nine and ninety

Treasured heart
The nine and ninety
Petals pressed
'Neath shadowed cloud
Push the bladed thorn
To leech the dowry
Quiet and sad
This smog-sponged morn,
Cross again
Sing the signs
Of Arthur's seat
Of Nimue's bed
Pick out flaming fabric
Bold as blood
Twist each cord
Of painted thread.

The Magpie

My heart is a magpie
Monochrome but searching for gold
On stiff wings I rake the sky
And call and call to no avail.
I hop and croak and flick my tail
Shout at the wind with no reply.
Gathering bric-a-brac that will never be sold,
Fixing time with jasper eye.

The Moth

There's a moth in the room
Battering the walls
Climbing the dark
With a pitter of dust.

The Sport of Beggars

The buzzing fly is on the airborne
Breezes of your thoughts
And spinning in and out of lives
And all of your beloved sports.
The winning of the golden cup
The wooden plaque upon your wall
Cannot stand without support
Just as you can't stand at all
But falter every time you walk,
Stumble upon your front door step
Mumble when you aimed to talk.
The winter of your inspired eyes
The splinter in your drinker's thumb
The glasses gripped between your toes,
The waiting for the dawn to come.
I don't believe you spoke a word
Outside of what you wrote that time
When everyone bowed down to you
Read twice the thoughts between each line.
But apple cores are rarely eaten
Fruit stones always spat on the ground
Just like the core, of the crux of your argument,
Just like the whispers that nobody found
When you rode away on that dust-covered nag
When you drew that curtain about yourself
When you fell upon heathens and begged their forgiveness
Gave them your vital and permanent health.
And they took your forgiveness,
Made pockets of painted cloth
And you carried on talking
Every word a hacking cough.

The Parrot in his Cage

Behind the gates I found a pillar
On which I could have hooked my hat
But the parrot put his feather boa
High up there on top of that
And squawked that doors were
Always made to fit best closed,
But I don't know, I took a glance
And saw just what it was that he proposed.
The parrot turned his red, red head
To a priest standing beside his cage
"Have you ever heard the word of God?"
He asked as if he asked his age,
And taking time to smoke with eyes
Of heroin and pillowed pills
The priest he answered twice as fast
I have the cure for God and what else ills.
This patient's tired of lying flat
On wheeled beds and three-legged stools
For cups and books you've thrown in flames
Those with their irons in the fire and fools
And tinkerers, tapping on tables without
A thought for bruising wood and sonic showers
They bring their fingers down like flesh nails
When the hammer has no greater powers
Nor the judge who swings it down
Nor the singer up on stage,
Nor the drunkard speaking with the priest,
Nor the parrot in his cage.