Thursday, August 20, 2020

This is not a letter

 Sorry I have not written

I have not been busy or distracted
Have not had children running under my feet
Or court, It is just
I have not yet found silver
In my tongue
To bring the gifts I must
Not yet prospected some gold seam
Mined my heart for a promise or dream
To fresh bejewel your brow 
With crafted new crowns
Or woven a strong sail of truth
Fitted with veracity for a fresh
Voyage of proof
I have only these few dry words
Signed with a tear of two
I miss you

Monday, August 17, 2020

Dr.Quack and Mr.Higgs

 He really was a most curious patient. More than any other in my experience his presence completely permeated the room. Collapsed the moment he entered. Only, not quite like any other collapse I’d ever witnessed, he seemed to grow into something completely different.

“Ah sir, do put yourself back in the seat, you’re shaking”

“Frequently”

“And what seems to be the problem Sir?”

“The problem”

“Yes sir the problem. You’re shaking sir”

“Is that the problem”

“No sir, I mean, if that is the problem. Is that the problem?”

“Vibsing?”

“Vibsing? sir”

“Yes, to me its vibsing. Aren’t you vibsing sir?”

“Well, um, can’t say I am. I’m er, a professional sir, very little time to er”

“Don’t you vibes with everyone? Everyone that comes in, just get down an”

“Sir you’ve collapsed again, your collapsing”

“It’s just how I am.”

“You do that most elegantly I have to say sir”

“Kind of you to say so”

“Is that the problem”

“Kindness?”
“No sir”

“Elegance?”
“no sir, the collapsing”
“It’s how I made my name as a sailor sir”
“oh you were a sailor”
“I was on a ship, it didn’t have a sail as such, It was my father’s ship. Named after my father too. I was quite important at one time.”
“Captain?”
“Where?”
“No, where you the captain? Vice-captain”
“Bosun”

“Ah bosun”

“Is that why you’re, sorry, I mean, we’re, is that why we’re here?”
“Pardon”
“The problem sir? Is it related to your time as a Bosun”
“I was never meant to be a bosun I was meant to be in a field.”
He had, in the chair become a very energetic knot.
“Well, can’t a bosun be a bosun and still be in a field? You don’t have to be on a ship. Oh sir, your, oh, your collapsing again.”

And with that he was altogether quite a different. 

“Mr. Higgs, can you send the Gibbon up on your way down”.

Tuesday, July 28, 2020

Should I tidy my desk No.36

Thick as two short Plancks
Give thanks
But if my maths was better
They'd be longer
Probably energy is frequency
And mass is energy and mass
Bends space time and has gravity
So harmonius frequency
Can bend too short planks.

Monday, July 27, 2020

Eyeing up birds

When I go out I eye up birds
In the slow billious sky
Like cerebral cortex
A flash, twist,
Monochrome anomalys 
Black capped gulls, in a squall
A pair, a gust,
A solitary seeker of storms
Beats wings in firm wind

The Corvids take turns on the chimney pots
A brace of magpies, a heavy crow
A parliament on the tiles, along the gutters 

The pigeons like frightened aerobatic fish
A swinging escher print in vain escape
Synchronised round poplar trees race
A frantic school or flock, flayed against the evening sky

A red kite hovers
Eyes tight to some verge
Scrap of grass on a side street
Not languid like thermal 
Sitting sentinels of Delhi's sky
But a fierce menacing grace
I think of the red fort and youth
Against a blue white sky.

The birds are bipeds
With an L-shaped larynx
Like us. All they lack is
Thumbs and grammar
All we lack is warm feathers and wings.

Wednesday, July 22, 2020

Sheep

If it was just a nudge I would not begrudge one bit But if it shoves, caustic caterwauls and whips If it is a shilling for a life on ships There is only pain in the achievement It may be that I don't believe yet Or it maybe like enclosure That I sit a sheep on a high hilltop And remember the soft human hands They so wish that I forgot. And if this mirror were to crack Would the replica be more exact Would rafters make a better roof If riven. Would it be better home for ravens This freedom of the citadel Behind high walls, free from Falling in love, with no shame And no society to judge.

Friday, June 12, 2020

When the dam broke

So when the dam broke
I watched from high on the mountainside
How soft water plumed like smoke
Lifted, spun and tossed
Pharaonic blocks with ease
Smashing the tall thick gates
To shards, gravel that scoured
Sedge from the valleyside,
Sent trees wheeling in the torrent
Waves clambering on waves, shaking
Where once was the pent
Controlled stillness, manicured
Lawns and matchbox houses
Crescendoed a torrent, spewing
From the cleft gash, an explosion
Of nature, untameable till its own
Stillness returned and birdsong
I, shaken watched, from the mountainside
The flat, free river below.

Thursday, June 11, 2020

Cocoa for breakfast

Cocoa for breakfast
Promotes neural plasticity
Then fast
Then faster, but
More haste, less speed
That's my advice
Funny how Einstein erred
And God plays dice.

The complex dance
The weather
Yes my friends
We are all in this together
I gather
Small flecks of gold
Like a placer mine panner.

If we think 
Therefore we are
Uncork the stoppered bottle
Lift the bell jar.

For which grain of sand
Will end up on top?
There's no way of telling
No matter
What calculator you've got.

Wednesday, June 10, 2020

This was spring

When
Escape became a watermarked flight
Beyond the speed of winged feet
When all I felt from your breath was fright
I became. The bridge of my moat frozen
So breaches to my isolation, inevitably
Felt like cold ghosts, such a stranger
To intimacy and company unknown.
I need new horoscopes.
This was spring
Some great revenge, against other wrongs
My mind cast through catalogues 
Seeking traditional songs. Not for nostalgia
But guides in my hideaway, gurus
To tell me, when water has eroded all
Memories, what traditions were.
This was spring.

Tuesday, June 09, 2020

Watching the clock

Catching the drops on a clock hand
Is hard
My knuckles failing, I feel
Pulling the belt buckle tight
Helps my gut
But that space is black. 
The space where the sheets creased
Scent. Is all spent, a finger trace, 
Reminiscence, I wish this
Was making love
Not war, not hornets sent in the post
The closeness of soft skin
Ends, that first crease begins
The topographics, in relief
Become a map of kingdoms lost
Of things I trust.
The second hand does not
Hold the round salt drip
The long hand, minutes,
Are not a spoon, hold no moon
Apple, nor star
The short hand drips errors
Airbrushes maps, as creases slip.
Its hard catching tear drops
On an old wrist watch. 

Sunday, June 07, 2020

Dr. Quack and that thing

Quack, quack

“Comfortable chair, yes, please, do make yourself comfortable.  Yes, the upholstery, we had it bespoke, they were antique, 19th I think, anyway, what is it I can do for you?”

Indisputably it was a curious animal that strolled in.

“do you have an appointment”
“um, last Tuesday, I think am I late”
“yes, ah you were the Tuesday slot. Take a seat”
“what seems to be the problem?”
“the problem?”
“yes, what is it that brings you here”

“a taxi”

“a taxi sir?”

“well, if I’m honest I came by bus and pony”
“have you left your pony outside sir”
“no they’re here”

“where, them”
“yes them, always reliable, well, generally reliable at least”
“don’t they belong to someone else”

“well yes, but he does lend them out”
“yes, I ride them from time to time myself, delightful on soft ground”
“yes, I do like them on the beach, barefoot”
“yes, anyway, what brings you here”

“this is a very nice chair”
“do you like it”

“yes, the velour, splendid colour, if this horsehair”

“after a fashion. Some time after the fashion it should be said”
“yes”

“Sir, to cut to the chase, is that a tree growing out of your head”
“a what”

“a tree”
“well, that’s why I’m here”
“because of the tree”

“is that what it is?”
“I confess, in all my professional years, well, I confess I’m not entirely sure.”
“do you take that everywhere you go”
“well you have one too”
“yes, but well”
“yes I do, doesn’t everyone?”
“well yes, I believe they do, but”
“yes”
“yes”
“anyway that tree, does it take much watering”

“sunlight mainly”
“sunlight?”
“keeps the er…”

“yes, yes it does, is, yes”
“so some water……and er,”
“not too much”
“no”
“sometimes on Tuesdays”
“was that last….”

“no that was a call”
“calling?”

“vocational training”
“really”
“well the switchboard, you know”

“well”

“you see
“well, yes I do, oh dear”
“there do seem to be quite a number coming in”

“incoming?”
“no this hour is all yours, but there is cyborg waiting downstairs”
“really?”
“well, professional confidentiality”
“I passed a Gibbon on the way in”

“Gibbon?”
“Gibbon, yes, lovely singing voice”
“Yes, its just she won’t sing”
“will she not?”
“such a shame, sings fantastic arpeggios…… and sonatas”
“why won’t she sing”
“sir, you surely did not come here to discuss the Gibbon downstairs”
“no”
“the Elephant?”
“very pleasant”
“then?”
“it is a very nice chair”
“the tree”

“is it a tree?”
“ I believe it might be, but er, it seems quite dynamic”
“well that is the issue”
“the issue”
“it’s the dynamism”

“dynamism”
“does move a lot”

“I see yes, it does indeed.  Cup of tea?”
“no thank you doctor, just water”
“and sunlight?”
“oh yes”
“Please, move the chair by the window”
“well”
“it is, yes”
“anyway, what was it”
“yes, that’s it”
“well, I have to say, I’m not entirely sure. Seems to be going in circle. The sunlight, it must be better”
“shade is nice from time to time”
“I do like it, dappled I find most delightful”
“hmmm”
“yes, well, it does seem very dynamic, I suggest you return in a week”
“I never travel I weeks”
“seven days then”
“Yes Dr, seven days would be good. Do you think it will grow much”
“Um. Seems, er, possible, but I have to say, its somewhat outside my competence”
“well?”
“I’m sure it will er, be dynamic”
“Well that can be a problem, I find it impossible to tie down”
“Dynamism?”
“Well if that’s all your offering I can ask the Gibbon in on my way down”
“No, no, if dynamism is the problem can I suggest something more concrete”
“Golloshes”
“I was thinking, more life, platforms?”
“Seems heavy on the walking”
“a fixed platform sir, somewhere to stand”
“ah yes, I understand”
“Over?”
“Under”
“Over”
“I’ll send the Gibbon in”
“Is it a Gibbon?”
“I thought it impolite to ask, she doesn’t sing”
“Oh. Great pity”

“Yes great pity”
“Still, in time”

Sunday lunch

This test pressed breath
My guess, goes, guesses, guest, gets
Nowhere, now here
I starved argued this ague
Fatigue and yet how I prayed
Fatigued teen, turned pro, carbo turbo
I gave word to the wrong tree
Alternately, what worth is this
I guess there are places
Far above this and whatever
They say I have
Can dance the toe tangled
Tango of each threaded hair
Fleece of my line of wool
Spooling graceful from the spindle
And there a thimble rings
That sweet glut a second ripe
Plucked to write or swing or run
Or travel to foreign lands
I have no advice for this
Instant of bliss
And each ticklish whisper
Of a love I forgot, forsook
Transferred to pawn
I was forewarned
But I weave back gentle calm.

Sunday, May 31, 2020

Road to where? Here again?

Epi-pen? Epi-leming? Epi-leptin? 
Epi-fanny?
What road was that?
Road to what dam?
Dam what? Hamsters, impossible.
Road to dam, ask us?
Where?
Dangerous out there
Better turn back
To where? What?
Rome got Covid and what not.
Road, I'm all about road
But our roads are rivers
Our species has always lived there
By the riverside
Down by the riverside.

I am born with two legs
Skirted by the coracle
Round bowl of travel
Round this table served
Promethean inheritance
Baltic, herringbone omens.

Cognate of Brigid, Agni
When the camel whispered to the horse
And they sped the dream of fire
Drew the wolf pack
The Dneiper, black soil of the Ukraine
Yamnaya, my feet share the word for Birch
For Bear and Fox,
The Oxus, The Aral, Indus
Ganges, The Caspian, oars
Upon shoulders Rus
Herringbone fortunes, to Halifax.
Rochdale, the Calder valley where
The trees are but sixty years old
My feet revolve
Faster than the bullet
Train.
In stillness there is movement
In movement, stillness.
The sunlight, hot. Shadows through the fig leaves
This quiet
So frighteningly precious
Broken by whirring petrol
Motors and not 
As it should be properly
By song
By song, down by the riverside
Where we all come from
And belong
Dancing on Elephants
Dancing on Elephants unknown.




 


Friday, May 29, 2020

Sharpnel 28

What this brand new dawn
And this full drawn path is not yet set

For if I was to walk Nipon, agang guns

For furious furtive funds, forsook these nooks and crannies
No granny would I smile upon, no love nor look for children

But it is not his evil it is more
It past paths times to implore
It is too wrong to feel this way
No more


It's all stardust

Stardust formed in frequency 
In forces
We drink photons in machinery
I hold a roll of photons in my fingers
Planted and dug
After eons of heat and pressure
Millenia of giants
Like a circus motorcade, triangulated
Giant gymnastics, a top these shoulders
Dug photons in my head I taste
Stardust in my bowl
My mouth
And these vowels we share
All change please
We must press light
Press light in packets and dockets
Faster than production lines
There is so little time
Ford unaffordable 
These shores no longer borders
What have we become
Stardust.

Wednesday, May 27, 2020

For You who stops the traffic

You, like a duvet of warm cream
Fractions
In my bereft mathematics
You appear, sunlight in my attic
A delight amidst thick cobwebs
And coughing dust
Pass my marbles back
When I have thrown them out in anger
That makes me yours forever.

For today

Well so deep let
My quill dip your dark ink
And paint
Loneliness in this company
When cold runs in me
So few dare
Your arms upon my shoulders
More real for the absence
All I feel is your care
My bare heart
You parted from me. 

Oily issue

Here’s an oily issue
Public Debt, they stack it up

Pass the buck, bank to state, state to bank
Bank to Antiguan vault, many thanks (or few)
Here’s an oily issue
Price stability, what’s that cost if it’s not been made
But money’s free? Beyond me
Beyond my whares, my whares be
Minimal as needs.

There is a problem of BOGOF
And Rogoff (fake data, weighting
far columns invade the land facts)

It ain’t how we used to be, its how we act
Now.
Swap the cash between your pockets
Forget wage slips and pay packets
No mucking about, just hand the cash out
Metal mickey, R2
They’ll be picking cabbages for you.

To balance out, leave the issue in the ground
Leave it, leg it go, under pressure the pumps will flow
Without pressure lakes lie fallow

The oily issue, just leg it go
Then tomorrow we might find
A cleaner state of mind, and of those left behind
Well, they’ll never know.

I took a little metal bottle top
It was too much for the planet
One more little metal bottle top
And well they cannot manage it

We cannot be imperiously free
For imperious is serious a condition like a flea
Suckers, its an oily issue
A guess we’ll miss you, black gungy goo
But for serious you cannot be imperious

We must dance with humility
Hug everything from birds to trees
Just try and wait and see
There’s land beyond humanity.


Saturday, May 23, 2020

Rhizosphere

(For Big G)

That which touches
Presses gaps, pockets of our toes
Skin, dusting grains, the icing on
Rich cake.
Rhizosphere
When magma has turned its red
Guts over into Basalt
Air made Pumice stone,
Layering sediments with care
The Gnomes beneath till
Till unruly worms roam the strata
Disturbing nutrients
Like cold currents of Earth

Two million species in a teaspoon
Dirt. Moist earth
Art starch, fructose
Softened star dust transforming
Into new frequencies, vibration
Mycellium, cellular cerebellum thing
Encodes connection.
What in the lightless granular
Pocketed compost? Fragile
White flecks like maps
Such wistful, delicate filigree
The brains of our earth.
Works away, slow digestion in optimum
Energy output and function
We connect with just
Earth chicken, fleshy fruit and see
Less than of our seas
What must they know?

The spirits of the moist earth.


Thursday, May 21, 2020

Battle Bars Twelvty Seven

I come hard like
Life on a dollar
You the type
To fit your mum with a dog collar
Sell her for small change.
I hate that, getting fronted
By cat's with small brains.

Quite simple. Me
I ain't gully, I'm not ghetto
Sharp and elevating
Like the heels of a stilletto

Serious mind
Can you see me?
The type to watch static chessboards
Like most watch TV

You'll never make it on telly
You the type take your little sister
And sell her to R.Kelly.

What would the doplhins say

(“so long and thanks for all the fish”? D. Adams)

Fair noble Queen
Let me tell you of a dream
I have a dream
Let me say where I have been
It is bigger than MLK’s
But like Kings’ anyway.


I.

For you, my Dolphin of Mekong
We in clean water do belong
You must not quit the river
We all are meant to be together.

But you know the wind and weather
Will not go on this way forever
Maybe in love when this is done
We will find salvation.

For I am blind, and deaf too
So little can I see or do
So little think I, we ask of you
You who think you’re free

II. Noble queen

My dolphin of Mekong
You knew this all along
I am blind dolphin of Ganges
Together we belong.

We need the roots
The roots of trees
For they are the sea’s
Kidneys.

Mangrove and the Banyan
Yes, we speak as friends
There were times when
The rivers kissed us fresh

We fled the salt and shrank
Came up the Amazon, Yellow
River and Yangtse
What have you done with your cities?

What have you done
To Mangrove and the Willow tree
They are your lungs and our kidneys
We are I. I am we.

You can’t deny
You see it in the tea leaves
The blind dolphins of Yangtse
Ask what has become of our cities?

We used to swim the Irrawady
Orrinoco, Okavango, Missippi, Floridas Quays
But now the prawns are toxic muddy
Why do this to we?

III.

Our finger soft, all round flesh
Press against the sides and back
For what we have we know you lack
And we lack what you possess.

Push your fingers to the wall and press
The back of your hand you know
Forms a mountains from whence fingers flow
Yangtse, Ganges, Irrawaddy, Indus, Yes

Brahmaputra and Mekong,
My dolphin we belong
For you are blind by me
And I am blind by you
And yet we both can see
What we have to do.

We did not this to you
We do not touch the child sea
Your mother earth does birth
We cannot help the prophecy
This is up to you

IV.

You cannot take more sand
More marshes and more swampland
The rivers need to breathe
Or will choke the sky, the seas.

If we cry tears, riverine that run and flow
Then it may snow
On the Himalayas. Their great tears
May still bless
The rivers of tomorrow.

V. Ex tempore, aka #DailyFrees

Oh my dolphin it has been too long
Since I swam in a clean Mekong
What is it the we have wrong
Where is it the we belong

Ah my dolphin you and me
I blind dolphin of Ganges
And you so smooth, gentle too
I done things you disapprove

But if you knew
My heart is true
My sweet Mekong
Dolphin come

And I love you and you love me
Blind Dolphin of Mekong, Yangtse
Ganges. Irrawady too,
We are all gone
What is there for us to do
We are all blind dolphins now see
What have you done with your cities?

Our friend Manatee, the propeller cuts
Burn and burn, consume the watts
Burn and burn and burn our burial grounds
We buried our dead
Millions of years ago
And you fled
Upon the lands, below
My sweetest dolphin
Oh my Queen, from your high throne
You must have seen
From the high throne you rest upon 
You know here that you belong
You the River’s true power
At this hour we say to you
You fools
Foolish I am, for I am
Blind and stammer
Through the dark and murky water

I don’t know what you have done
I don’t’t know what you have done
because the sound does not return.
Propeller cuts,
I cannot even say my name
My daughter’s name
My father’s name
My Lovers name, is lost in all these whirring chains
And we cannot complain
For we have no hands!

We have no hands attached
But you have thumbs
You have thumbs and all along
You have done this with your war drums
And your smoking chimney stacks
We can feel the tang of that
And the tinge upon the surface
Uhh
You think our lives are worthless
And all the plastic
It is fun,
But it does not go
The sound does not tct ctc tct
It does not return
We cannot burn these things
in the sea
So we live in mad blind fear
Oh my love
What have we done
Who are these you send within
Who are these you send down river
Deliver poisions, make me shiver
We blind dolphin of Ganges, of Mekong
And all the seas
For we have known the Amazon
And we have known as all our cousins
Are dying here
And blind.
And oh yes we can help some how
As I would help you without my hands
Without my calloused thumbs
I know what is to be done.
The Irrawady, Okavango, Oxus too
The Congo long the Jungle through
Nile, Orinoco, Amazon
There is no Salmon in the Tay.
No Salmon in the Seinne.
They have all died away
What have you done our friends?
For we are the blind dolphin of Yangtze
We see the plastic comes for we
Plastic comes for we like devil spawn
I am not like that, no pawn
I come to thee, I rub your back
Kind, light hands and tenderly
With the soft touch of buoyancy
The buoyancy of floating seas.
I swam the waves
We were there together for days
So many days it made us weak
Now I’m weak and long to speak
So I speak to you my dolphin
So sweet, so kind, always evolving
And if I had a lobe like you
I might understand what’s true
But since I don’t, and I can’t
All I can do is chant this cant
And think of Kant and have thanks
But rather than have thanks, give.

I’d love to see
My love, my lover too
Orinoco, Blue Danube
Missippi, Hudson, Murray
I do not know,
There are so many rivers flow
Ah the Blue, the White
Nile, Ah, the Thames-Rhine, the Dnieper
We must not go to sleep there
We must awake now with all powers
Ask them how.

My dolphin
Flip the ball back, the plastic one
I dropped in your path
The plastic one that’s broke in half
Kick it back to me my sweet
And I will mend it, make complete
Just flap it out the estuaries
We will clean the seas with thee
And maybe then some currents stir
In the arctic waters here.

The Whales can circulate
Arctic waters here
We can make the war drum waters
Silent, clear.