The old lady

The creases in her face

Smiled like

Time worn

Roads of life’s

Knowledge,

While her eyes

(Milky pearls)

Threaded barefoot

Through

The honeyed

Echoes of her life;

Greeting me with

A smile on

Tired lips,

She remembered me

From stretching

Memories of yesterday.

Morgan's Point

On Sunday,

I drove to

Morgan’s Point,

Following Main Street

And the smell of antiquities

Along a winding road

Where houses

Out did each other

And sailed loftily

Amongst summer greens;

Mail boxes hung

Forlorn heads

Amongst green

And brown Maples,

While I slowly listened

To the dim hum

Of tyres

And watched the sky

As it paled with blue sadness.

You drove with

Your lipstick

Creased in silence

On your mouth

And a dream

Caught steadily in your eyes;

While I,

Shadows on my mind

Would remember you

In roses,

Bright yellow roses

Singing softly on the back seat

Of your car.

Morning in Seabrook

At dawn,

The pigeons gathered

On washing lines

Like an audience

At the opera,

While a slow crimson

Wind chased

The last of the night

Into the Gulf;

Waiting somnolently

They watched the shadows

That danced amongst the ferns,

And the morning parade

Of sea gulls that

Loomed overhead

Like Lancaster bombers;

When the sun arrived

Like a monument

They flew south

Toward Galveston,

Chasing circles

And the

Breakfast boulevards,

Crying and screaming

Like a dawn chorus

In the Texas morning.

Heathrow (terminal 5)

From the viewing gallery

I watched people

Lost in their

Flight connecting worlds

Aimlessly wander

From gate to gate

From toilet to bar-

-To Harrods

To transit

To pray

To shuffle

In all colours

And clothes

Through passport control

To hobble off

To destinations

Far and wide

All so quickly forgotten;

While I,

Soon tired of my voyeurism

Sauntered off to a Japanese bar

For an English breakfast

Served by a man

From Turkey. 

Waiting for a train.

The City

We watched the cars

Drive away,

Tail lights moving like

A river of red,

Harbouring the architects

Of children

Who would forever

Forget their past.

City lights

Humming and twinkling

Into a new wave frenzy

And stale people

Existing with lost futures;

Silent boulevards

Of the neon reds

Are full of empty humans

Who sell their lives,

In a city

That is grey with life.

The future is bright

The future is black and white. 

The thought of you

When I miss you                              

The most

I play our song

On my bodacious violin

And sip fine wine

Next to cautious

Memories of your smile;

I open all the windows

And

Let the music float

Seductively into the sky,

With the pigeons

And the sparrows,

Who occasionally

Whistle and squawk

Along with my G clefs

And rhythmic chords

Like an abrasive

Orchestra;

Oh the very thought of you.

Oak Tree blues

October tumbled into November

And brown leaves

Wilted, damp and derelict

Loafed idly beneath trees

That stretched naked

Amongst the rich

Sweet floral,

Of the winter Jasmine.

Oak trees cried

Slow tears

Of brown and orange,

That permeated

A scent of watery fruit

And lavender -

- Dreaming of spring,

And prodding the

Neighbouring birch trees

With cumbersome boughs

Like an errant brother.

You had me at hello

I want to be infected

With your smile

And tainted with

Your long red kisses -

- I want to listen

To the sweet hum

Of your voice

And feel your heart

Play soft music

On my face -

- Sweet elixir

 That you are,

My only hope

Of life’s redemption

Is to dissolve into

 The windows

Of your soul.

Fitness test

Those cheerful boys

Who go to sea

Are made from

Stronger stuff than me

Jauntily away to war

They sing and drink

And run ashore

Spending dib dobs

And sipping rum

Heals together

In Number 1’s

Then back to Blighty

For a well earned rest

And a moan about

The fitness test.

The maple tree

At dusk,

The sun capsized reluctantly

Beneath a hill

That chased verdant shadows,

And where butterflies had

 Flapped nervously

Like sailors escaping

A sinking ship.

I walked jauntily,

Whistling through leafy greens

And crunchy browns

In a night

That had become as purple

As plump grapes -

- Startling a maple tree

Whose branches

Were in mid-autumn

I watched it grow

Into a silent

Crimson blush

As if I’d stumbled upon it

While it swooned

Towards the spruce and pine.

Plant life

Following the rain incessant water
That drummed cascading
Endlessly until transparently
Morning                               the greedy
My cheery                           morning
Yellow daisies   yellow
Standing tall now
On their                                 waiting
Verdant stems for
Drank far too much                    the summer.
And
Slightly plump
Bent oddly over
Face (planted)

The War Poet

Forever in autumn

I walked languidly through autumn,
Amongst a wind
That came at me like a whetted knife,
And crisp brown leaves that
Had gathered like old sailors
Jostling for one final parade;
All dressed in their best
Green and brown and autumn coppers.

I followed the birds south,
Past bejewelled webs
And leafy drifts

Thinking of you,
Somewhere;
Your face framed
By hair the colour of deepest night -
- But your heart,
Forever in autumn
Dancing and laughing
In our cinnamon memories
And oranges for eyes.

Misc poem for my love

Like the sky in October...

My love for you is crisp and alive,

with a spectrum of fiery colors that,

fill my heart with magnetic sighs.

Loving you is like the deepest scarlet red.

Like the blush of my cheeks when I see you.

Like blood rushing to my lips when I'm lost in kissing you...

I feel like a rumba.

Though I sit alone in a cafe,

surrounded by the busy People,

I am still.

My mind lingers to thoughts of you...

And all the ways you move me.

All the ways you touch me.

Just like the ocean under the moon,

I am mesmerized.

Like a daydream.

You are my everything.

On a midnight stroll...

Dreaming of him...

In stride...

The Angels

Rochester Cathedral

our love reflected

The War Poet

Autumn blues

After you left
I daydreamed about your smile
And listened to your voice
In the echoes of my mind.

Outside, beyond the loneliness
Of my heart,
the crisp golden rouge
Of autumn tumbled in
Sweeping and floating
In a melancholic haze;

Yet here, alone
With the worn fabric of
My memories
I just existed and fell
Into your smile
That continually looped
Over and over again.

Under the carob tree

I waited for you

Under a carob tree

And Listened to lethargic

Bees Hum softly

Out of tune.

Pensive and moody

At your absence

I wiled away the day

Dreaming of poetry, and

Fondly thrilled

About our love

In the summer’s hue.

Seeing you shimmer

Into view beyond the sun

That had climbed

Into its last deepening hour,

I packed away my thoughts

And watched you

Walk into my heart,

While the lamenting bees

Hummed a rumba

Under the carob tree.

You make us shells

I killed a man today;

Watched him

Fall in distorted

Grey;

Horror broken

And bloodied blind,

Hearing the terrible corpses

Heave and grind.

I too lay beneath this

Broken wilted bracken

All rumpled and slacken.

A lovely war

Beneath a half lit moon

We spoke of love and

Songful swoons

We danced in green, and blue

And grey,

The rain, the sun

And all of May.

Before the war our

Hearts all soared

We dreamed and dreamt

And scoffed discord;

But war has changed

Both me and you

Our time is up, our lives now through;

So from freshly liberated hell

I say goodnight

god bless,  farewell.

Loss

The soldiers marched

With anger in their brains -

- They had lost more than life -

- outnumbered by death

Their loss will haunt us long.

Deluge

The sky, low, oppressive

And moody grey

Sulked down encroachingly  

Before bombarding me

With slanted rain

That attacked

Like an angry army,

Washing my colour away

It chased me from the nooks

And crannies

From silvered trees and

Dampened soil,

It raced through streets

Bubbling hurriedly

Over drains

And bleeding

Buildings

sunk without trace -

- Before the sky

In a lighter mood

Retreated to a steady pace

A whispered applause

A drizzle

A drip.

My sun

My saviour

When will I see you again?

Time

I am here

Alone at night

With nothing but the clock

Tick, tick, ticking

Away

Louder and LOUDER

And LOUDER still,

I am here

Alone at night

Watching images in the

Scarred wall paint,

LOUDER

I am here

Alone at night

With nothing but the clock

And furtive shadows

Chasing me

Maddening

LOUDER still

I am here

Alone

Longing for morning

How long have I left?

Only time will tell

Italy 4 England 2

Silent bars recede from
streets flanked by distant
fading echoes
of 80's football chants -

- flags all red, white and blue
hang limp and somnolent,

while stale beer
permeates memories
of 66

that

wash silently away
into the night.

Headcount

We waited for him in the dank
hollow of our memories,

we had watched him march
with us;
the clockwork soldiers -

- all returned from war's disgrace, or some part of them
at least.

How do we explain
to those
who regaled us heroes -
- applauded our medals

war is something that happens to
other people,

not little boys with innocent smiles
and dreams of playing football.

Don't send any more letters
from home,

your son is dusting away
in the desert,

already picked clean.

The soldier’s wife

The wife walked with
her soldier husband
down love street,

its narrow walkway

beyond the cloudy ruins
of political reasoning.

She was happy then

and they kissed beneath
a sunset that swooped
possessively.

Plans of children
stained on their hearts -

- laughter and love hanging
on leafy lined streets

carefree and lost in mindless
love,

that stretched the sun into a monument
of smiles.

Then she was a widow –

and silently the world sank -


- War is hell she used to say.


 

a midnight view

On occasional nights
Gibraltar appears
like a stricken battleship,

alight with fire -

- but other nights
it appears to be
a great monster,

ascended from the depths
of the ocean;

ready to hungrily consume Spain
in one big limestone gulp.

Sicauna

i went to Paris
in search of love

stood on the St-Michel bridge
and watched the Seine
flow out gently towards England -

- while love became a mindless bliss
that forgot me in its twilight stroll.

Instead i found loneliness
as i stood possessed
by the Notre Dame Cathedral

and shards of beautiful women
became an artistic blur.

Beneath the river lights were trapped
like prisoners escaped from Bastille -

- they marched and blinked from Plateau de Langres
and shimmered dreamlike through Cote-d'Or,
their ranks increasing with the night.

Onwards they marched
beneath the Seine,
slowly washing my love away with them towards the sea.

Dawn my saviour remained hours away, east of here.

The Individual

Outside my window
in mid December

i noticed that the trees
that lined my road
were still in full greenage,
as if in some kind of protest
at global warming
and the odd weather
of late.

One tree however,
stood proudly bare
at the frosty sky -

- naked and leafless
its branches clawed skywards,
defiant to the protests around.

Memento

In a piano bar
on the top floor
of a Dubai hotel,

i watch the sea
from a long window
and observe lights
in the city,

while memories
of a woman
will return as dreams

in a distant tomorrow.

The oak tree

At sunset i watched
a tall lonely oak
scratch at the sky
with its long verdant boughs,

as i moved closer
it became fearful
that i might carve my name
into its beautiful trunk-

- so the oak shivered
its leafy limbs

and warned me off towards
the spruce and pine.

Whistle stop

The chef whistled happily
in the galley of the ship
while he ruined lunch
and left us with nothing
but an irritating tune to
hum all day.

The funeral

They stand around the grave
of the man that left them early-

-damp eyed all of them
and as grey and chalky
as exhaust fumes.

It rains quietly,
dropping somnolently
without fuss

and birds watch curiously
from wet oak limbs.

The faceless lower him
into the earth
while briefly time ceases-

-Later at his wake
they drink stiff drinks

and talking about his life
restores the colour
to their faces.

the lost battalion

On a mountainside in southern Spain
tall trees in full greenage
climbed silently in single file,

marching with military sturdiness
like a long forgotten battalion
of republican soldiers-

-still ceaselessly advancing
towards General Franco.

Branches swaying
in the Moorish wind
appeared as slung rifles

and onwards they marched,
endlessly towards a distant
forgotten battle-

-while the bitter scent of
oranges rose from the west,
flanking the battalion
triumphantly.

Death came to lunch

Death visited my Uncle's house that day
while we began to sit for lunch,
it hovered menacingly around the kitchen
as Aunt prepared a punch.

It whispered and whimpered across the table
spilling gravy from my sisters plate
and sat down quietly next to the fridge,
where it stayed deciding our fate.

Before long it was on the move again
slipping quickly across to the sink,
pushing pots and pans to the floor with a crash,
it grinned and gave me a wink.

My cousin was lounging on the sofa
chain smoking in the long front room,
Death sat down next to him and said,
"I'll be seeing you very soon".

The reflection

The town that stood
upon a hill

was seen reflected in a sea
that sung ballads to
a sleepy beach.

Shimmering softly
with the night,

the streetlights
and cafe neon's,

silently

wash gently ashore.

For the defeated

The naval officer
was liked by his peers
because he talked
with a nasal twang,

talked fondly of the Queen
and had blue blood
in his veins.

When he lost his men
and ship through negligence,

they carved his name
boldly in stone

and left his men
to old black and white photographs
and a forgetful promise to families.

The artist's impression

At night the harbour
became a large canvas,

lights from ships
and cafe thronged
marinas,

dancing and quivering
in artistic fluency.

But towards morning
the canvas faded,

and once again
the harbour
became an abstract
of fishing boats
and buff coloured gulls.

The glorious dead

They lay silently at attention

beneath a hazy sky

wind brushing them,

dust spoiling around

and endless poppies

worn. 

Overhead carrion hunters

circled shark like

and memories

of their young lives

swam around in tears.

Too late for hindsight

and too early

for remorse

so here silently they lay

the glorious dead.

Royal Marine

Another one died today

amongst a din
of nervous noisy gunfire -

- blood bubbling on his chest
congregated like
a ship succumbing to an ocean

- He sank silently

and for the service
of his country
that was busy lamenting
over tax hikes.

Shadows

The shadows i discovered
on a garden wall

resembled soldiers
from the great war;

escaped from the poppy fields
of northern France.

They were dressed to attention
with their rifles slung
and stood proudly in
the wall with military precision.

"Thank you for my freedom", i told
the silent shadows,

before leaving the soldiers
to a world of forgotten promises.

Lead by example

The politicians discussed war
and decided the fate of
unknown soldiers,
whilst drinking sweet tea and
having lunch
at an exclusive restaurant.

They laughed and joked
at obscurity,
whilst for dessert,
they enjoyed double helpings
of backslapping.

Beyond the sea

I wish you
with your hair
the crisp delirium
of sunrise

would join me
on a morning
constitutional around
my heart,

so,

with your hand in mine
and your lips
as enchanting as
eastern sandalwood

I could show you
past the angst
of my soul,

past the barriers of
my resolve
and show you the special place

that you fill

within the caverns
of my heart.

From sea

From sea,

the sunset turned
the fishermen
into indigo shadows
on a distant beach,

while lights in town
appeared as millions of fireflies,

endlessly winking

and the ambience
of cafe thronged boulevards,

hummed warm welcoming
tunes.

Later the bay
became a collection
of stars and ships navigation lights,

imprisoned beneath the sea
until sunrise.

A garden conference

Through the window
mired with morning haze
stood a tall leafy birch

at silent attention;

a lonely soldier of nature
waiting endlessly
for the crisp delirium
of summer's breeze.

Delicate butterflies awash with colour,
danced and intertwined,
oblivious to the woes of the world,

and lonely sparrows gathered
to chat incessantly;

all the while daffodils blew their trumpets
announcing attention
to their yellow hue,

as a boisterous breeze
swept past,

following the gulls to sea.

The pensive gardenia

If I was a gardenia

I would grow

strong and tall

above the lavender grass

at the end of your garden,

I would enjoy the sun

intoxicate the rain

and eat my greens -

- with the knowledge

that one day

as you walk jauntily past

you will notice

me in full stretch,

pop me in your lapel

so I could travel

silently with you

in the Lone Star State -

- next to your heart,

listening to every thump and beat

dancing and quivering

as fluent and in love,

as the sea and the shore.

I Love You

Slipping from a café

near sunset park

i think of a woman

who walks the

canyons of

my mind,

her footsteps

marching with

military precision

in tune with –

- a Texas Rumba

 that a man announces

with a tambourine

on a boulevard

where washing lines

hang like toothy grins,

their sheets brilliant white

sparkle like Hollywood smiles -

- remembering earlier when

the sun had been

a monument

I had followed a butterfly

towards the sunshine

its wings had flapped in

a haze of delicate crimson

as it had meandered

spirit like

towards the end

of my jaded thoughts.

I stopped under

a large smile

while the tambourine

was near its crescendo

Called you and said

with optimism

“I love you”. 

The Lovers

She was mirrored against

a long window

that reflected morning rain

perfect

silvered 

and descending somnolently.

It dripped down and washed the colour away

leaving her alone in the darkness -

- and decorating her pensive morning

with tender drumming

that marched in tune with her heart.

She imagined him listening

somewhere

beyond the window,

cross town……maybe

and as pensive as she,

hoping that the rain would

slip its wet fingers through his hair

and wash him up to her window

So she could make love to him

silently

with the rains tender incessant drumming

a soft background beat

slowly

the rain eased to sleep

colour restored -

- and

all empty and spent

they dreamed,

once again

alone in their world.