Saturday, 9 January 2010


Hope feels. Take here and now. Hope lifts,

transforms comfort and discomfort, goes

beyond them both – higher - not bereft

of potential, a spiral away to

ascend through fear but without theft;

transcending, transmuting whatever it started as

tremulously up to how things could be;

beyond entropy, decay or how it was:

look at the sun rising again and again, day after day;

listen to the radio, a boiling kettle's energy, voice.

Friday, 8 January 2010

Cold Snow

We went sledging - boys do,

raking powder snow

turning, laughing, lugging back up

speckled white with neck drips, back drips.

Andrew hot enough to go first;

split-second tipping on an edge

then singing, giggling down the slope

to stop and to hold a statuesque pose

but now I have to send boys back:

no more sport but a hard kick

into my soul ‘til next time we meet;

a decision I made years ago

to end these moments - separate hearts -

my core melts down; I am a man of snow.

Wednesday, 6 January 2010


On a Supermarket run,

I drive a little faster than

considered legal, find

a few black cars pootling along

so I start to overtake them

chasing fast with my radio on

until I get the idea– like a sudden dawn –

it’s a loss to race a funeral procession!

In the end I slow down the outside lane,

drive at 20 – respect their long line

until all falls away, even sound,

with my lumpy throat and tears running down

for a life that is flowing and a life that has flown;

a heart that is thudding, a heart that has gone.

Tuesday, 5 January 2010


Connecting with your mate, become aware

it’s possible that one of you will listen

with every fiber of your being, care

enough to fish into reality; maybe not forgiving.

It’s not about good judgment or being fair

and, not to be confused with old suspicion,

this quality of engagement feels so rare

(because a normal human act’s controlling or permitting)

and when connection happens, every hair

raises like two spirits who are kissing:

so shall we offer up our truth and dare

because it’s all there is – and, frankly, all that’s missing.

Monday, 4 January 2010


A railway carriage like a clattering zoo

zooms and swaying people (some are bald,

or old or pony tailed:- none with tusks)

look out and worship fabled snow and sky

mobile talk and coughs; we travel fast;

riding rails within our fragile bubbles.