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”

Another Tube Poem: Tunnel Days

They who serve the suction of daybreak, beneath the earth, beneath the dew, beneath the kitchens where there’s burning toast and grapefruit, bury, with the morning light, their hope of hearing birdsong. — My commuting is less than a tenth of many who live and work in London. But when I am on the move,Continue reading “Another Tube Poem: Tunnel Days”

In this place

A post-breakup mediation posted this time last year, but dating back further in time. The poem appears in my book Emily’s Poems for Modern Boys under the title “A quiet thought”.

To the Valleys

Over the hills in this fulsome of seasons, the rains trigger migration of hartebeests in cravats. With dress suits and readings of love patient, love kind, they sniff over the morning for griddle-pan scones, white-veiled receptions, soft hands at their temples. Ah, all those summers a-toiling they bring back to the valleys as rings inContinue reading “To the Valleys”

A Bequest of Wonder

Within the confines of a silken sheet, the observers attend upon the temple. Before it returns to ash and dust, they light a votive offering. It is   in a portrait the thumbnail of the painter’s right hand   the sparse arm-hairs of a samurai beset by ghosts   the frog at the woman’s feet,Continue reading “A Bequest of Wonder”

Just Punishment

Little Knowing, a lonely desert bird, was small and light of wing. Along the road he saw a woman. She smelled of cinnamon. “My bed,” she said, “smells of more – of myrrh and desert aloes. It is richly covered, soft – and ours – in colourful Egyptian linen.” Little knowing saw the tent toContinue reading “Just Punishment”

Sun Doves

Your greatest treasures in actions and thoughts are how much, how gently and how gracefully you let silent persimmons fall into your lap. — I’ve written about fruit again. (During the summer I wrote “Summermelon” and “Pakistan’s Gold” – An Ode to a Golden Mango.) I’ve once again also turned to life instructions and direction.Continue reading “Sun Doves”

Her magical box

Her magical box held gnats and a nightingale.   Once opened, Both entered our dreams.   (Pandora’s Box) — Shining in Brightness, my first volume, is available for preview at blurb.co.uk I tweet as @BeadedQuill about writing, whatever obsession I’m into at that time. At present, it’s baking (more often than not, in vain) forContinue reading “Her magical box”

Instructions

  Pine for the pigeon as a cat. Cover the house from ground to roof. You’re ivy. Start as a seedling in mid-summer.   These are six ways to complicate your life.   —   I tweet as @BeadedQuill. Please follow me on Twitter. Have a glance at my first volume of poetry here. SHININGContinue reading “Instructions”

Half-a-dozen, a wildcard plus one

A few recent poems have orbited around summer. 29°C captures some moments from the July heatwave. Another Summer’s Day explores more delights of the warmer season. Summer food and outdoor eating, which we enjoy at such times with childlike relish, are enacted by the child characters who feature in Packed Lunches and Summermelon. Tightly Sealed and Look At draw on observations of ordinaryContinue reading “Half-a-dozen, a wildcard plus one”