art – Page 2 – three good words

May 8, 2016

sky to ceiling

sometimes
darkness beckons
longingly
whispering of peace
that is oblivion
only there’s no
solution
in that soundlessness

hope is brittle
when harshly set against
possible/actual
may be, maybe
that could be anything
but bad dreams

nutshells aside
forks in the road
can look eyre-bleak
without howling moors
greying the sky to ceiling.

infinity, vast
or so it is written
lies quietly await
endlessly patient
like a golden summer’s day
and yet it’s in the earliest hour
when you see the light
in its most crystalline shades.

there is this:
perseverance. keeping on
never mind scraped knuckles
chapped lips and bleeding knees
invisible muscles screaming
‘mercy, please!’
but there is that peak
the summit
all sky, no ceiling.

and so: keep on
one more step, and another
until the desert is crossed
and you can rest
among the calm leaves
of brilliant green
the lush cool
quenching clarity
where those days of exhaustion
are only memory
where plenty is true, real
and sunlight warm, serene.

strange little world, this.

May 2, 2016May 5, 2016

words and water

on giving your
self

over
to the moment

dropping deep down
into that endless

ocean

splish-splash
no, I wasn’t taking a bath
and it’s Monday evening

a sudden rush of
words and water
rolling off the tips
of several tongues

I speak

to myself
and others

aloud
in the quiet
to the other
that insists, insists

me, moi
moi-même, I

ay, ay
the famous Greek
“outshouting seas”

and again
snatches
bites of words

maybe wisdom

drip-dropping
flip-flopping
hip-hopping

and there it goes

an entire video music awards
that shows
such roll of song

(it’s sad, isn’t it
how that space for music
no longer is a home of song)

anyway.

every way
time, space

written monuments to bad taste

that glue themselves to your memory
slipping out suddenly
in cravings for sticky-sweetness
whispered kisses, ma chèries

another time, really
leave me be

I need to write this
I need to see.

April 3, 2016

that sound

trumpets sound
smooth velvet
that bass, electric
plucking deep down
and you know
that particular voice
hot and warm
that’s lived real and long
will fill the silence
with earth-bound sound
all heart and soul
percussions slipping round
around, cresting raw
on the black/white keys
a sax peaking high
the chorus cheering on
vinyl spinning, gleaming
and suddenly the whole bus is singing
Don’t you know I’ve got to find me a home
right now in your heart?
and that rhythm
takes you right out of the blues.

god, that sound.
nothing beats that sound.

March 19, 2016May 16, 2020

outsourced

we need to re-learn how to take care of each other
we have outsourced so much
even the care of those closest to us
those who were, once, beloved.

we have to re-learn how to take care of each other
to offer solace without fear
without plots of retribution
without vitriol and viciousness
but with that rare thing: kindness, gentleness, sincerity.

why has that become so rare?
why is that not something we can expect
why is it the exception, rather than the rule?
a lot has come to my attention recently
about those left outside, alone, ‘to the winds’
freezing with a body warm
utterly lost with Google Maps uploaded.

we have un-learned the language of emotion
we can no longer speak of love without deconstruction
without cynicism and scoffing
we have no vocabulary to articulate the sublime
that allowed a poet, once, to stand on a bridge
and hail the sun, the sky, an entire realm.

we have lost that primal sound of succour
that beating-drum directness that reaches heart and soul
deep down into the darkest parts of the human condition
breaking through the man-made clouds with a ray of
sublime light that others of less sophisticated times
would have called divine.

we need to learn again
this language of love
langue, parole, signifier, signified
all meanings together, wrapped into each other
used in all languages known to man, woman, child
even if they were once warped by Barbara Cartland.

(and so what for the lace and corsets
so what for the gentlemen in bespoke suits
leaving their card at the door?
they have their place in the joyous abandon of make-believe.)

does that lessen the value of a warm hug, a sweet embrace?
that moment where you come together
with someone who is genuinely lonesome
and needs that one thing you can give, freely:
solace, comfort
peace.

October 3, 2015