poems

Its said 'that men seldom make passes
At girls who wear glasses'
But what if the girl is wrapped within

Old Stones

A million years I lay among these hills and fields,
pushed by shifting earth,
great ice sliding me about,
wind and rain sculpting my edges
until just now,
when your father picked me up
to fill a small void in the wall.

Lying alseep walking
last night I met him who seemed pleased to see me.
He wanted to speak. I saw
his mouth move
but the dream clipped its lips and leaned in drunker.

We were deep in woods with a girl like a woolf

(dedicated to the memories of my grandmother Dorothy Genevive Nelson and my grandfather George Sigfred Nelson)

In humanity's garden,
despite the gmo weeds,
there are some chestnuts of charity,

On darkened path below the trees
The winter chose for me to walk...

Because the one that knows worse is the curse that screams louder
Bigs up his chest to show he's prouder
But that's the powder that has slipped into weekdays
That was for weekends
Just another part of chasing trends, chasing friends
But leaves us all alone in the same dead-end

One day
maybe one day
reconciliation
one day
a ways away
love again.
one day
if not today
friendship.
one day
maybe one day
reconciliation.

Words are the thing
Like magnets
Signs
Like a forecast to the past
Century sentences guarding our paths
Whatever the weather
sun
rain
The movement of the clouds
Above
As you pretend to look for my shape
And I
Casting my own spell
Imagine you Lying
in the chilled grass
Counting the drops
Rain one you're cool
Rain two dropping all over
Rain three you're burning

1976, in May
Doc's red army
Witnessed the young guns
Fail at Wembley
To that iffy goal
Scored by bobby stokes
When Coppell hill and co
Failed to beat McMenemy's men
A motley crew
Of has-beens and nobody's

You made your exit in your famous style
With your head held high and a curious smile
You drove away in your jaguar
With it's built in ice box and cocktail bar

Where the aria of destiny is played
by a cold hand on a slightly out of tune piano
Where blood and wine are mixed as a cocktail called despair

The Roman Baths

The torches were lit in Aquae Sulis
Minerva out stared a lambent moon
scampering shadows and chattering shades
all muttered softly see you soon

a bland faced effigy of Aggripina

(I also want a gentle touch...)

staring deep and long into Yorick's sockets
into the void where there was once his jovial brain

just one-tenth alive

only knowing a hawk from a hand-saw
when the wind is southerly

just one-tenth alive

As I drive home from work, with the evening
sun still beating down hot on the windscreen, I
come to an abhorrent obstruction in the
road, a cyclist the worst site to any driver with
somewhere to go and a finite time

The tea went cold.
That was the first I knew about it.
The day it all collapsed
Castle back to sand
With the torn-cloth smile of a sad ragdoll,
resigned to the attic and dust.

An empty house, with the phone off the hook,

Man is more tha what society has molded him into

Inspired by an introduction to "Alice In Wonderland"

Time to own up to a few things

I could not weep
As I sat at his side
His hand once as strong as atlas