Fire door

DangerThunder and lightning CautionA box that opens(but should not) CautionRed seeds you could eat(but should not) CautionA bargain to make(but should not) That doorKeep shut Only those who dareDo not. — Earlier this week I took a photo of a door that entertained me: I liked how the list of commands added up to make

Visitation

All in whitedescended on my doorstep,in a cloud of cologne:the amoretto, the deuce,the quicksilver sonof Mercury. Some spellsare an intercession. — Other poems about visits, hellos and good-byes: Different rides My heart was a rogue balloon Pavement Writer On a traffic island halfway across High Road, evening The mattress turned over In this place, I

Palette of an overcast spring day

Seen from the poet’s loft:Red London bus, double-decker,then a postal van.Grassy yards where in the bedsTulips, bluebells, wilder forget-me-notsNow show. A man in puffy jacket,fluorescent against ground greyfar away.A neighbour shakes a sheetup to the washing-line. Pigeons, magpies, parakeets,finches, robins, full-bodied crowsfrequent the rooftiles,Conifer,Wooden fence below. Some say on such a dayThe only colour to

Out of Office

Follow BQ on instagram (@beadedquillwrites) and Facebook. Sign up for occasional emails from the poet’s desk on the website homepage. Find BQ’s books for sale via Blurb, including Jangle between Jangle, a collection of verse written while jangling to-and-fro during the London commute.

New Years, New Times

Necessary Work Types of Necessary Work: Getting up. Going to work. Eating breakfast; taking meds. Watching for my eye to mend. Watching as the candle burns. Letting go to say goodbye. Waiting. Letting a breeze into the room. More Types of Necessary Work: Devising shapes with pens and Filling lines. New fonts embossed on diary

Another correct map

From the tube station, exit left to the High Road. Pass the fruit and veg stand. They are already selling daffodils and the asparagus looks fresh. Turn up the High Road, cross, and cross, to where the bicycles stand. Stop. Turn ahead. Wait for a break In traffic. (I have seen people and cyclists hit.)

Now

In a week, everything has changed. Now the sun is out, the sky is blue. The seasons have made a turn. — Today I am reminded of a much loved poem look – really look that was inspired by an evocative interview with an elderly gentleman about his balcony garden in the Barbican (London). The return

The good news is

The wet streets open for furtive foxes alleys for cats swaying branches for turtledoves coo-cooing in the rain. Fewer people will be out. 03/05/2020 — An apt poem from the back catalogue to follow a wet, May weekend. It felt like it rained for two days solid, but that is not true. I went out

They’re purple but blue better rhymes

They’re purplebut blue better rhymes The hyacinths nosing uswith their blooming scent.Us – the other houseplants,the fridge, the drying linenon the clotheshorse,the competing scented candles.The bold blue hyacinthsexude regardlessand bloom out of their pot. 01/04/2018 — The fridge is humming this morning as I sit at my table and prepare this post. I woke before

Airtime will be of little use

What is it even all for? When the End Times come the airtime and savings will be of little use. Every day we lived cost someone something. At some times it was money that cost us. We paid our rent, our food, our taxes, clothes. The leasehold of our lives runs by not to be