I worked out the odds
getting into a fight
mostly it was crafted
stage managed, if you will
...
The cat sits on the garden wall
and slowly licks his paw
there are things rusting in the garden,
some to do with ships.
...
you got a smack
the minute you were born
there was a lot of hooha,
screaming
...
this sun,
this high ball of yellow
soon to stoop, but for now
it's the bladed cliff that's
...
I study her jars stacked on shelves
in the plaster peeling downstairs loo
(space is at a premium in our house)
papyrus labels gone archaeological
...
I no longer am
in the world
I'm really out of it all
I don't know the rules
...
It starts with school railings
That's where fear starts
Not with nailing to a metier cross
Beware, my child, upward straining spears,
...
I have to see it
the way someone
from Mars would see it
that means
...
I told her I was a poet
then tried to show it
really she said
thinking of Peter Rabbit
...
In our street
They came and fixed her
A tin door, three times
She had bashed it in
...
A cloud wisp on widescreen blue
grounded hollyhock arcing to heaven
mystery hills of uncertain hue
the sharpness of things near
...
They were twelve, and right there
the tall thin one, back to the window
in black- Judas or was it the Nazarene?
all wore security tags, for radiation,
...
a young fox too early dead
with yellow pelt, muddied by
those wheeled sofas
that ooze urgency
...
he was a boy
you could see that in him
he was always the boy
always on the lookout
...
Brought up in Britain after the war. Briefly trained as an art restorer Worked as film editor mostly news and current affairs and writing screenplays and fiction point my telescope at the night sky sail my Laser on the Bristol Channel, when its not too rough. Stare out of windows)
I Am Not Very Brave
I worked out the odds
getting into a fight
mostly it was crafted
stage managed, if you will
I got it wrong
now and again
once at Christmas
wearing that stupid hat
It was like
Take that!
dark drops in the snow
The truly brave are those
who are reckless, the ones
who don't care
deep down, I know I don't dare
I feel the same way ast the poet, I see broken umbrellas on the streets off nyc and i think of youth thru old age....the premese that we are needed and then discarded after we are broken...nice poem, i want toput images and a music sound track to some verses...i will contact the right person to let me use the poem for my idea...