Oh God

Happiness or lousy life?

Head to foot in fear and wonder,

am I in the dark or light?

Will I live as prey or hunter?

Am I plunging in the sea or

lifting wings for flight?

In a swirling world,

will one Technicolor movie

stop my head from worry?

Oh, let me stop ringing this bell;

Oh, let me escape from this shell:

Oh hell.

Here

Mostly, I do my best to fend off

pointlessness

but here, with breakfast bacon,

coffee, iPad;

I get it down.

Left and right, two

flying finger pads

try to weave a net

from what’s around,

through ears and eyes,

heart and head,

with letters, words and spaces

tying a little philosophical knot

of what the hell is maybe happening,

why I’m here, what the people at the next table

are really saying

and whether one little letter, another word,

will settle, fly or capitalise.

On the radio, a jingle sings

and it’s travel news next.

Push-on, or stop, review;

turn off the mains, delete?

Hello

Feet have

almost gotten

home - through the gate,

the path, a door,

turning green

to grey and brown;

from natural to man-

made - corroborated

by harder edges

and the sounds

of one hand turning

a handle’s practical

activity exhibiting

pattern and habit:

splitting a second. This

has happened many, many times

before - but there’s

a pulse today,

an unending slowness

and a longing old

seeking of senses

zooming their fibres

towards, out, and passing

a dovetail of door jamb’s

open inclusion

compression and feeling

a spot of reality;

a hug with my son

who whispers my ear

‘Daddy, hello;

you’re alive.’