Overcast Eclipse

A blazing sickle of the sun cut a toothless smile unseen by rushing city men caught up in the Mile. Thick cloud across the southern skies obscured the time majestic when darkness peaked – nine thirty-five: a normal day of business. 21/3/15 — This poem was inspired by the solar eclipse mania of last weekContinue reading “Overcast Eclipse”

The forest birds know not to trust

I proceed on the outside with my daily life, all the while taking mental or handwritten notes. These observations saved ‘for writing’ often echo personal revelations. The regularity of this continues to astound me, especially as I re-post poems from this blog’s archive. It is sometimes said among writers that we are called to write what we are called toContinue reading “The forest birds know not to trust”

Making soup again

These days I refuse to sigh for cooked up futures. Potatoes from a friend and a bag of mixed root veg for £1 assure companionship. This bounty grated, cooked with stock and bay leaves, will be ladled out for half-a-dozen bowls dressed up with haricot beans. The appraising birds perch in the top bare branches,Continue reading “Making soup again”

Hope and Sky have disappeared

“Northern (Hen) Harrier” by Len Blumin from Mill Valley, California, United States – Northern Harrier. Licensed under CC BY 2.0 via Wikimedia Commons. a poem written in London on Sept. 26th, 2014 Sky’s signal stopped September 10th. Three days later, Hope’s did too. Birds of their kind hunt small mammals. Birds of their kind areContinue reading “Hope and Sky have disappeared”

he growls today and shakes his whole self

“Look At“, a poem posted this time last year, is a combination of a journal poem and a pavement poem. Derived from mental notes taken during a walk along East Finchley High Road, it documents the comings and goings of an ordinary morning. Observing the ordinary and everyday is a recurring theme. “Look – really look”Continue reading “he growls today and shakes his whole self”

look – really look

I will be 80 this year here in my flat only a mile and a half from where I was born. I have tried to lead by example, by plunging my narrow balcony into the principality of hanging gardens. Concrete is brutal. It needs softening. Plants should have dominion. We breakfast amidst the crisp verdureContinue reading “look – really look”

Nearing the End

The second-to-last exertion is not the rainbow. It is the to-and-fro flight of a raven clamped in darkness for 150 days. Let there be beats the raven’s wings Let there be beats the raven’s hope No land, raven. No release. Below yap choppy waves, corpses float and catch on broken trees. No release, raven. NoContinue reading “Nearing the End”

Absorbed

Evening issues an amber skein. It trails a flock in departure. In tumblers, it reflects as liquid. From the road into one’s ear, whorls the skein. When Friday dusk descends, often you will hear sirens. — “Lots of sirens. People have been drinking,” noted a friend of mine one balmy summer’s afternoon in sleepy NorthContinue reading “Absorbed”

A small heart panics

Little robins cock their heads when I pass and stop. “Hello.” I move. They dart. The forest birds know not to trust. — This is poem 96 in the lead up to the total of 104. The project is to write two poems a week across 52 weeks (i.e. a year). I reasoned, if IContinue reading “A small heart panics”