Saturday, 4 August 2012
Thursday, 2 August 2012
Of this world
- how come that boy in front is grinning?
I mean this boy – the one we label ‘Down’s’;
the one delighted seeing us here,
who loves to chew more coupled to his food,
who closes eyes when feeling-fully a taste,
who smiles at every folly
with eyes more soft and clear than tears.
Now, as he starts to sing - a hymn -
I’m not sure of the point of any prayer
and I seldom taste my food
or stroll along for the hell-of-it
or stare in wonder any more.
I long to tell you what to do
and long to be told what-to-do by you
- so please instruct intensity!
Shall we chew? Shall we chew? Shall we chew?
Tuesday, 31 July 2012
she had just had her hair done
pale blossom on a thin stem
when they sat her in a chair
leaves curled up like roman scrolls
went out to fettle her lunch
the air in her room, quite cool
she insisted, no, no lunch
flowers drinking up water
and closing here eyes for sleep
the coolness perpetrated,
settled into her small chair
with petals nodding from heads
taking penultimate breath
and summer blew tranquil at last.