Every

thing

moves-on soon

enough; hands

with their creases

and leaping of minds;

shadows in the air,

women singing,

a last kiss,

fire’s out, some

where.

Spring

That fire has been burning for a long, long stint

and one blue ball twists and turns akimbo

delighting water, up and up, to air

and a whiter flower bursts into gold

and a tiny creature sucks at liquor

and that tiny creature’s gobbled by a flying bird

landing in a treetop, hammering a song

for Spring, for Spring, carousaling Spring.

Tea Leaf Terry

I saw a quite disturbing affair

once –  a UN worker lifting a brandy glass

at a car boot sale -

flitted around as dusk began to fall

and spy-glassing - as if looking for dregs -

she stuffed the little jar

into her coat, glanced like a ventriloquist’s doll,

and walked away on wooden soldier legs:

quite a disturbing affair I saw.

Banker from Yorkshire

When train rattles south

- warmth - it is - we face

and warmer still - we might arrive

kipping with an open mouth

and b’hat self-pity

leavin’ snow behind a pace

into a sleepy London city

and t’other willful acts we may conceive.

Just now

inside a notebook, on a table in front,

I wrote lots of words - with letters revealing

something not around before; I suppose

a relationship - paper and pen and tipping nib

- and I’m hoping that between the scratchy paper,

turns and lines, a spirit-charge of

electricity could light a shadow,

unleash a note, arise from a dream

that I scribbled in a word in a

notebook on a tabletop out there.

Double Dream

One day I dreamed a tiny dream

and dreamed of dreaming up a dream,

conjured from my brighter side

dancing in the high-day sun,

sand between my tiny toes,

hands and fingers up and reaching far,

far out into a web of stars.

But, in the dream, my dark side rose

and howled a wolf onto the moon,

chased a rabbit down a hole,

savage supper all I caught,

until I woke up in this dream

and jumped into a well - to cool -

before I woke up in my dream.

Facing Andrew

It’s not too easy

facing a boy

who looks at you sideways

without fear or anger

but softly and friendly

wiser in brainbox

and subtle in secret

hearing the feeling

rhythm and obvious

you and him here, now,

drilling no damage

softening edges

beating the beating,

tip, of your hardening heart.