Saturday, 16 July 2011
first son, Andrew, has games to play;
a book of scary masks to colour;
pirate, alien, monster, mummy.
He can’t see any particular point in
all that tedious colouring-in;
choosing pencils, stay in line,
boring like schoolwork, forced inside
until he gets the notion,
a mask lets out emotion;
a roar, a scream, a drama queen,
exuberance burst behind a screen
of moments leaking a tiny dream
not for hiding - expressing truth.
Out, at last, the real deal
behind a mask – a sparkling me – and you.
Thursday, 14 July 2011
there’s a way through the woods with stepping stones;
some blue ones going west into new darkness
or a silver trail ahead into old light
or brown ones lopping out towards my right.
Right - all is solid,
ahead – future history,
left - a big mystery.
Now, time to choose
and early this morning, I drove East
as a crimson sun caught my eyes;
rising up - a separation from land
- up, up and away, from god knows where.
One fission bomb, like clockwork,
ancient and total, emerging from dark.
Tuesday, 12 July 2011
a train flew forward;
green fields, bright clouds, backward
- inside – blue seats vibrated
and the end of a black pen tilted.
Memory flew backwards
- old Mum, wooden school desk, Dad –
and his longing bellied forward
through anger, joy and fear, sadness,
forward and back from that sunlight into grey fog,
from this moment of - a very second
hurtling into time-space onward
away from a time unsullied
(now in an aching carriage)
and a future fully loaded.
Sunday, 10 July 2011
New rain descends like kingdom come
onto my old head:
carving out senselessness, a hollow, into my brain, a concave heart
pulling no-thing-in to hammer there – that void
rising up softly, forgiving everyone – including my old self, most of all
making sure I find the next step; new dark, alive, with morning.