Poems

From two collections. ‘A blank page is white’ (1970-78) and ‘Gazing from a rainbow’ (1979-86)

“The following pages contain some of my poems. They were written over a period of fifteen years. Just as with life itself, some are humorous, some personal and some for no reason at all. There is life and death, with purpose and no purpose. Essentially they are all a part of me. Written, re-written. Typed and retyped. So that there are few errors even though to some they may make little sense. Make-up words and careful use of similar spellings are used. There is a scan to most of the poems but maybe only I can see it, maybe not.

What is common to them all is that they were never intended to be read by other than myself, so, in reading them, endeavour to accept or forget them without criticism from which they have little defence.”

SOMEWHERE, YESTERDAY

Somewhere. yesterday when the whole World was crying And dry people drowned there was a place dying Where the King Of Love was crowned. A coronet that laced his grin as the King Of Love, dazed Laughed his way within eyes glistened Bright and glazed Bottled up and...

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EYES FROM A TRAIN 1

Reflections of the interior skidding across the frieze brickwork and grass And hedges and fences and no dickerty dack, just dm-dm, dm-dm, occasionally. Cinema dead and modern white concrete block Station, slow down, stop. open door, cold rushes of air, and Men you...

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EYES FROM A TRAIN 2

Out of the window two lines on my left Now three, now four An old rail tanker, all on its own it’s dirty and grim and happy So why does that deserve so much early morning aloneness Areas of cracked up concrete It is the people who intrude on everyone who are intruded...

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EYES FROM A TRAIN 4

A thousand eyes from the train turn in revolve in their sockets And see where they’ve been A thousand eyes from a train turn in and drop from their cavities To the floor, where they role about and fall through the gap at the base of the door A thousand eyes line the...

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WHAT HAVE WE DONE?

I escaped the raging party headed for the local coppice Bluebell Wood, so large and alone before now I stand in the densest foliage Now I stand in the heart of a dying wood I see a horizon of rooftops a horizon so near Poor wood, I had loved it so memories that were...

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EMPTY TEABAG

Empty teabag, served your time 4.30, ended in an old brown teapot Scolded and very wet nearly drowned you know, what a shame Left in a dustbin by the gate not a very nice place to recuperate.

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A NEW DEVELOPMENT

And me, where will I end my time? being sprinkled with lime Maybe I fell on my face then covered up, so I don’t leave a trace Leaving no memory or neat clergy mound where relatives can go, and I can be found Instead, a cavity in the foundations of a new concrete block...

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SURE

I live a play a play on life I am the audience and critics knife I am actor I am show And yet there is more and of more I am not sure Yet I feel I know. There is life there are thoughts There is illusion and expectation And all their negative counterparts. There is I...

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SIR JOHN

Age of hour glass trickle through The lifetime hole as we all do. Fill your glass and down your sorrows Drink for mirth and strain tomorrow. Kick the dog and watch him reel Slap the waitress then try to feel. Role the chairs stoke the fire Drink some more bring out...

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NO ANSWER

The story of a time when reality became truth and truth the illusion of life….. Hunched up on the paving stone I threw away thew want to live For, as I had reached the golden ‘phone the slush-strewn road had turned to cliff. For someone had pushed me there that person...

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SILLY OR SENSE?

I think in my left ear there is a pain to bare But my right ear is lonely with nothing to hear There is a thorn in my eye a stain on my nose A place that is pussy it’s between my toes. The sun has burnt a hole in my head It’s not a cavity just easily lead. (I did say...

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WE ARE NOT AS BLIND AS YOU THINK

Nursery-rhyme-time Jack and Jill Cowboys and Indians when the day’s fine. When the day’s overcast heavy with rain The children stay indoors and drink orange and lime. The children are innocent unfortunate too For when they read this poem when they have grown, I...

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THE MORNING STILL

The morning sprang, as from a trap the cool hammer of the early summer dawn Collides wsith my sleep adorned face The cock crows in the distant farmlands and the cleansed air, as from a mountain stream Penetrates my unfitting wear. The still of morn, silent yet strong...

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WHO SAYS?

My brain says Goodbye Why? My heart is dry. My soul says Hello Glow I told you so.

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THE EMERGENCY SCRIPT

Birds that carry angel-dust and adorn your tear-sorn face Will return with happiness and from their hearts they’ll lace Your heart with a tiny stitch to hold your love back in. A stitch that will strengthen you until you are ready to begin again. Tears drop quietly...

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