Friday, 22 July 2011

Facing away from the direction of travel

we set off at dawn.

A slow start, accelerate

down tracks, rumbling

silver rails. A crimson sun rises

East - skimming trees -

Midlands, into Birmingham.

The gradient’s against her, but she’s on time.

This is how we travel – backwards,

looking out into where we’ve been:

an engine behind

and a caravan of multiple eyes

with a clear view of the back of our head,

pulling. We look away;

focused, unaware

Wednesday, 20 July 2011

Down's Out

Ladies and Gentlemen. Boys and girls, uncles and aunts;

our time of oddity, bigger-head, thick neck, smiley,

is (at its best) blazing with a pungent oil, lighting

lamps in our tummy or heart which seldom can be shared.

Statistically precious because of our rarity

we shatter imagination, vision slashed away

as you and I make a different jigsaw – train crash

some might well call it – we would say more like a new sound

or music hallowing from fine cosmic dust one night

through a long code you’ve not yet broken. Take us for real

and let go of that frozen window pane of the Christ

or glossy magazine cover with midnight shadow.

Yes, clean the frosted glass and see a new bee buzzing

in Fall or a big pencil that wags and stays in line

long enough to grow an old friend – before bed time.

Can you feel a wire stretching from my belly button

towards you; breathing bubble into breathing bubble?

I adore nursery rhymes and have a large belly

under my blue shirt, like daddy bear. Shall we join hands

as warm as an ancient man who ran-down the mammoth

or woman waiting by ruddy fire and family?

You and I are not Jesus Christ as far as we know.

We’re far too stupid for that. I love you. I thank you.

Monday, 18 July 2011


On a train


blurry trees

vapor back

pillow clouds

silver track.


I stay me

colours turn


Praise be.