Safe-home
don’t be so lazy maisie maisie Don’t be so lazy please I know it’s snowing And a hard wind’s blowing But nobody knows At the rate we’re going What time we’ll get home tonight
Happiness
for kelly Happiness is the stuff of birthdays And the coming of sweet things When they are not expected Happiness is when the moment Catches the sunlight and a giggle Comes out of darkness
The wounded angel
(from a painting by hugo simberg) Those who bear the wounded angel Are they honoured or destroyed Far beyond their comprehension Are the warfares of the void Angels have a sheen to lift them
Art school
each sunset is unique So others tell us Fools – with flowers Of envy pushing Through their teeth I think differently A feeble skill that Can’t repeat itself I’ll have the sun in For
For the naming of tara december 4th 2005
for the naming of tara This bowl of joy That her fruits of earth She’ll well employ For the naming of tara This bunch of flowers That she bloom brightly Through her natural powers
He and the hilltown
when they look into his mind they find a hill town Somewhat surprised they go off to their learned books Outside (architecturally) he’d seems a little wind-blown Not special – a common sort of
Adventure
just as the dusk comes hooting Down through the shivering black leaves Of the swinging trees we (the brave ones Swaggering like marshalls through a lynch-mob) Crash-bang our way to the door Of the
Age-old debate
when the old man said I know everything The young girl replied What is everything When the old man said Wisdom is mine The young girl replied What is wisdom When the old man
Portland views
wherever there’s a tear in the fabric Around weymouth – portland appears From abbotsbury hill it’s just a long Thin line humped at one end Closer (from chesil beach) a head-on Massive lump of
Malvern abbey
the day was as grey as the abbey The light that filtered through the glass Had no disturbing shine about it No one inside was grasping to collect it The organ had its notes
Bee-attitudes
in the shadow Of the flower Is the sting The bee driven by need Uses its painful gift To keep its sense of beauty In proportion It does its job with A thoughtless dedication
The seed of endymion
or how most great achievements stem from accidental discoveries Two beauties are a joy for ever Ejaculated keats Lusting in ecstasy towards Well-breasted fanny brawne No no my dearest john Sighed fanny Facing the
A reader's de profundis
in my reading of the moment i have learned The figure next to christ in da vinci’s last supper (a painting i have actually seen in a milan church Fragilely restored) is a woman
Starling
a starling sat on the roof (i don’t know how young) Croaking in an old man’s voice Cross with the dapper world After five minutes or so It flew away – its grouse over
Woman
you have gone away from yourself You walk in a dead way Your loins have lost their sweets Your breasts deny touch Your face exudes cold pain Everything you were Now you are not