The Politeness of Princes

Quite a few of you will have noticed that I have a bit of a problem with punctuality. I genuinely maintain that this is because I'm slightly time-dyslexic, but that might just be a feeble excuse masquerading as Greek-flavoured verisimilitude (and potentially offensive to actually dyslexic people). Anyway, turns out that I wrote (another) poem about this about 2 years ago. Have just found the notes for it today during a tidying binge; tidied version below:

This morning, time refused to function,
Fainting and failing,
Flapping like a Georgian hysteric,
Clutching at a shawl-draped,
Snow-white bosom, all fluttering eyelids.

I blinked and missed dollops of minutes,
Handfuls at a time while the lady
Gibbered, rolled her eyes, tore her hair,
Gasped for and pushed off attention.

You see, last night's sleep kept out of reach,
A stony suitor, all dark Byronic profile,
This morning's slumber all over me,
Hanging off extremities like a clingy second choice
I may have kissed once at a party.

Let them fight it out between themselves.
I pushed through chores and breakfast,
Dressing mechanically, commuting stoically,
Trudging past temptations
To make it into work on time. Just.

Earth Song - for Jill

Jill Eastland has an exhibition called "Our Land Our Lives" at The Six Bells in Covent Garden, Cambridge, 1-31 May. It's a series of statements inspired by and dedicated to the struggle of the Roma and other Traveller folk at Dale Farm and those who tried to defend them against their eviction. She asked me to perform at her opening private view tonight (along with the magnificent talents of host Johnny Marvel, poet Keely Mills, singer-songwriter Faith Taylor, and musician-sham David Crowbar) and I was inspired by her work (the titles of some of which turn up in the piece) to write the following tonight:

We are here.
On common land we stand
Entwined
Root and branch
Arc us earth to sky
And we fly - leaf-twist
On the good wind
Diving swift as hawk-stoop
To burrow underground.
We are rabbit-thump rumour,
The liquid trickle
Of brook-mimicking birdsong,
Soft and strong as running water.

And you cannot stop us,
Cannot choke the love
That is our breath.
We will erode you, drop by drop,
Weed-crack your concrete,
Rust you and reclaim you.
Entwined, eternal -
Root and branch, bird and rain -
We stand. Common land.
Forever.

7pm Regent Street

It's a long walk
Trotting clumsily
And late, carrying
My own beration
Until I choose
To let it go.
I'm the only one
Scurrying, muscles
Knotting, a clot
Of office-dressed
Momentum in a sea
Of those disposed
To partying.

And now, side-stepping,
Breath drowning in the
Aftershave scents,
Desperate stares
And cigarettes
Of early Friday
Summer evening,
Weaving my way
Through cleavage
And pecs, loud laughs
And gazes
Paving the way
For the after-dark...

I am smoke.
Or a tributary
With a different
Purpose.
I used to feel
Cursed but I know
I'm just a different
Verse of a song
That was being written
Long before I was conceived
And will echo long
Beyond these bones
Achieving dust.

I am not corruption,
Not rust on a pristine
Sheen, a blemish,
I am free. Not better
Either, just a different
Set of steps,
A counterpoint -
Belated and berated
Syncopation in this
Never-ending dance.
Chance led me
To this place and now,
By everything
That I hold dear,
I'll choose to live
The life that love
Has given me.

Tweet Poems

I found out today that I can download all my Tweets, and therefore retrieve all my Tweeted poems. Behold a table of them (I am this sad - never doubt it!)

28/06/2012	Haul in thickened air Travel long dawn to long dusk Mired in summer’s dust. #haiku #poem #senryu
25/06/2012	Keep Calm And Carry On? You can’t make me! I was made to rage against The dying of the light And fright won’t quiet me... #newpoemideas
02/12/2011	It is nearly time Katla stirs on the brink of 2012; all change? #haiku #senryu #katla #volcano #Mayan #prediction
28/06/2011	June’s wet lashes: The wait is over Fragrant pavements bounce with rain Summer’s loudness cracks. #haiku #poetry #storm
04/02/2011	Haiku for Early February: Trees shift endlessly Birds surf the broad and ragged Air. Spring approaches. #haiku #poetry
24/01/2011	On the final #1 to Arbury: Warm bus rattles and we are cossetted sleepy home beckons darkly #haiku #senryu #poem #latenighttravel
21/09/2010	An Old Lover: I practise being Glad to see you, no longer Poisoned by your name. #poem #haiku #senryu #socialniceties
02/09/2010	Green-hearted, throat smarting, praise sticks on a thick tongue, poison sweats icicles, I sicken on your success. #poem
01/09/2010	Copper-capped baron leaf-mould drifting musk heralds the shaving season. #haiku #senryu #poem
17/03/2010	On the slow, late train home: Long miles ahead weigh my back. My heart’s a buoy of Love, Spring, Poetry. #haiku
03/07/2009	On a muggy July morning with a touch of a breeze: come, little zephyr blow the July clouds along let us sleep tonight. #haiku #poetry
30/06/2009	Smoke hangs in the air the same weight as summer heat time-lapse fag pictures #haiku #poetry #uksummer
16/06/2009	On bus etiquette breach: One of these days I’ll take scissors to your plastic ear strings, noisy fools #haiku #senryu #poem
16/06/2009	On commuting anthropomorphically: brave yellow spider swinging with the bus’s rhythm reclaims tiny web #haiku #senryu #poem
22/05/2009	On May’s Equivocation: Sun shines warm over mountaintops of thunderclouds Birds chirp, unconcerned. #haiku
20/05/2009	To That Girl Over There: I’m looking at you Not for the reason you think That makeup masks you. #haiku #senryu
19/05/2009	On the Second Step: None of your business Who I fuck anymore, but I hope it hurts you. #haiku (no, before u ask, not how I’m feeling now!)
26/04/2009	short poem: “feng shui is another way of saying that you’re getting paid for your OCD”
18/04/2009	My breath plumes away Poised coy between Winter and Summer April smiles. #haiku

Apparently, I wrote this in late-September last year. Pretty rough still, but it could be something… :)

Today

Today I went looking
And found myself
Peering into dark places
Faces that should have been
Averted spewing bile
Eschewing the mores
That bind society.

Today I looked
And could not stop
And my heart dropped
Towards an abyss
That had no ending

Today I summoned
What I had never conjured
Today I gazed upon
The depths
And they were dry

Today I looked.
Today I found that
My life soars
That all my darkness,
Rage and pain
Are bound,
And that my soul
Holds me fast above the depths
In pity’s arms.

So what was all that about…?

Written for a poet friend I”d just had lunch with, cringing and striding around Parker’s Piece. Only one bit of explanation is needed - proprioception is a sixth sense...

I was reminded today that some snow never melts.

As we trod green-thawed sun meadows,
And shivered into the salt-pan shadows.

We had laughed, breathing hard, and
edged our world with bright and worthy pain.

The plain level, the path ahead squinting,
We questioned our way in loops of small adventure.

We both draw warmth from dark days, greet
All weathers - sun and rain, wind and ice.

All gather their own gifts into our arms
Light or sound, texture, scent, or taste.

We touch fingertips in the pitch and between us
There will never be silence, or frost-decades,

There will never be scurrying, head down,
Feet unsure over black ice,

Only the warm gasp between laughs,
Highly-coloured explanations,
Bright eyes and lengthening tales.

Beautiful day.

This was sparked, of all things, by a Hallowe’en mask

Masking

I tipped my hat to Death today -
and smiled.
It’s been a while -
at one time we were close,
But I strode, limping slightly
In another direction.
That which does not
May be biding its time.

A chilly stone in my chest
Pressed me back, to hide beneath,
But I tilted my head back,
Lifted my hat,
A ghost of a nod,
A sliver of a smile.
You shouldn't burn your bridges.

He strode on.
Couldn’t tell where his gaze was fixed,
Even in those dark times
I might have mistaken his intentions,
After all.

Today I didn’t bow,
Just tipped a wink,
And strode off,
Not even looking over my shoulder,
Hugging history,
Content to let death
Be just another mystery.

I’m not entirely convinced by the rhyming-couplet ending, but the emotion of the whole thing makes me smile...