Tag Archives: ordinary life

Ordinary

Our eyes cannot see through the polished cufflinks and clean underwear put on that morning; over the same legs that walk past you and sway in the train when it breaks; the same arms that hold groceries and hand them over at the till; the usual pleasantries made with the cashier whose body is laterContinue reading “Ordinary”

Poem 104

Escucha My new muse is light in his visits, is late, never calls, smiles his cheek, tells me nothing. So I invent everything. My new muse wears white-soled trainers and a St. Christopher tucked against the tattoo, never seen in full. When the night begins, the muse’s t-shirt smells of clean laundry. My new museContinue reading “Poem 104”

Spring Wants

The poet wants new curtains, please. Yellow and white, in a gingham print of medium squares; lined in white cotton. The light will stream through across the room and catch the duvet on the bed in a stroke of sunny warmth, The poet wants new curtains, please. New ones that don’t slump from hooks thatContinue reading “Spring Wants”

Things a poet needs: laptop, coffee, soya milk, oats

This poem is based on the day in 2012 when I finally took the plunge and bought a laptop in London. The incessant “£299 on Strand” echoes my personal obsession with the cost of things, which I really am trying to transcend in 2014 (…both the cost of things and the obsession). This close attention to priceContinue reading “Things a poet needs: laptop, coffee, soya milk, oats”

Responsible. Spring cleaning. Light-bulb.

In mid-January 2013 I wrote about the ordinary routine of a quiet creative. I wrote about the things I accomplished during a week and the chores left undone. “The hooded empty eye-socket of the desk-lamp stares at me. A year since moving in, it still needs a light-bulb. ” Since writing that post, the bulbless lightContinue reading “Responsible. Spring cleaning. Light-bulb.”

The Brothers Three

Younger is a funny, joy-filled beast whose appetite seeks charms and luscious treats, yet he knows there is wide, wide world. So, off he bleets once supped and full. The older – add scores two, a half, minus ten – knows this landscape of plenty shifts by hurt and over time lithe limb and limberContinue reading “The Brothers Three”