Into the cold night winds
Blow the sultry seeds of confusion
Into the freezing breeze of winter’s dawn
Go the thoughts of a man forlorn
...
Eyes undress long before fingers tinker with buttons, clips, belts or zips, clawing their way through blouses, dresses, jeans or skirts. A bed creaks in anticipation even when innocents sit in non-descript chatter, small talk continuing unabated before the curtains and the unclosed shutters – no-one shouts, just whispers, hints
and when lips caress and tongues do push apart in carnal flutter, thoughts remain alert controlling touch so as to find that lock to be unlocked, that stone to be gently rocked, that trigger to be lightly –sprung
...
I am best described by my poems, and so I let them speak for themselves. This is from the back sleeve of my book. 'A collection of poetry from Nature, and from the edge of imagination, for the Human Condition is where Mankind thrashes against himself, defying logic, embracing logic, both spiritual and reductionist. Sometimes a poem comes from the merest tangent of thought, sometimes from a color, sometimes from a feeling of outrage, and sometimes from the ecstasy of love. Sometimes it is fully formed, sometimes it requires further input from the reader, sometimes it tells you something, sometimes it avoids telling you anything, and sometimes you can just feel the words fall upon your body and seep into your consciousness. These poems are all of the above.')
Kerry
Into the cold night winds
Blow the sultry seeds of confusion
Into the freezing breeze of winter’s dawn
Go the thoughts of a man forlorn
Weeping stars stare over
A figure walking lowly below
Racing shadows overwhelming at every light
A sad, sad man
Don’t feel sorry for yourself
Say the friends of another
Now that he is distant
Now that he is just other
Languidly he strolls along the dim avenue
Through cold after cold orange glances
Filaments hot and burning, dancing
Their passionate dances
Not he though, each nerve ending
In his body is wane, his emotions stunted
Where blood was apt to rise through his heart
He is now drained of red and suffused in blue
He walks across the road alone
No care for life or living or tomorrow
The clouds above too sullen to break
This was the night sweet Kerry sent him home.