Friday, 9 November 2012

Writer's Block

Like a stroppy teenager, one blank page defies
my intention to write down words:
an empty mind and empty paper.
Silence, blank, void – until I listen with intent
and hear my train trundle and rumble South.
I let a pen leak a few words
and some thing’s down there now.

I learned the duties of a clown from Andrew:
at home in a world of nonsense,
turning up voltage again and again;
not perfectly perfect but urging
inclusion; connecting the hearts of some people
through smiles – with spaces between all their talking and words,
where, truly, a mystery lies.

Tuesday, 6 November 2012

Pass the Buck

Happiness seems
to COME out from
a small centre
- in a ray – a
SHOW of teeth, but
can be also
rude or vulgar,
expressing as
an anima
(Carl Jung would say).
Happy people
feel an inner
RUSH and Andrew
learned, this year, to
swear (in his own
way) intense, org-
asmic splurging
four letter words
like in a cough
or sneeze, a lit-
tle BRAY
     ‘if you
can’t find a way
to sing or sway,
BUCK yourself up,
make a noise, play
and dance today,
I’ll shout and spray,
and cry, exclaim’
he’ll say
    ‘Buck off!’