Genesis Reversal

On Monday
a last lonely animal was killed
and the last greedy man took his fill
one last supper and one last thrill

On Tuesday
fish and birds disappeared
nowhere safe for them to dwell
time indeed to bid a fond farewell

On Wednesday
sun and stars all quickly dimmed
the waning moon turned to hide
showed only its colder darker side

On Thursday
land and plants began to whither
browns replaced the healthy greens
dusty winds blew hither and thither

On Friday
sky and sea could not be seen
the tides retreated indefinitely
tamed for all eternity

On Saturday
night and day became the same
the last remaining rainbows frayed
and faded to the greyest greys

On Sunday
our silent planet took a rest
reflected on what might have been
if humans hadn’t made such an awful mess

of running such a perfect place . . .

 

one day

one day
when I am dead and gone
I will come visit you in your house

so listen out
for the sound of my footsteps
crunching the gravel on your drive
the squeak of the swing seat
when I take a rest on your porch

I will warm my bones under your southern sun
before opening the screen door with a rattle
look up and see me standing there
as if all our yesterdays
had come again

you will take me to your room
and I will fill your body with heat
the cicadas will talk like typewriters
the moon will wax lyrical
and I will leave through the open window

one day
when I am dead and gone
I will come visit you in your house

the cows in the fields

the man on the train is weeping falling rain
picking his brain like a pigeon pecking grain
he holds in his hand a picture of a key
and hopes that one day a key will set him free

the girl on the bus is eating pie and puss
doubled up with pain but making little fuss
she holds in her hand a broken bumble bee
and pulls off each leg after saying one two three

the moon in the sky will ask no questions why
untroubled up on high by poets bold or shy
its tranquillity is like a flattened sea
you have to admit you cannot disagree

the cows in the field are semi-demi-monde
fishing for eels in the wavy-gravy-pond
they search in the trees for nuts to throw at me
could this be . . . the way it’s meant to be?

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that you are

your face
we laugh so hard
your black mascara runs
like liquorice laces
or a tribal tattoo

hello you
let me clean you up
a tissue a tissue
we fall to wiping
revealing your skin

how I love your face
full moon with starlet eyes
open as a window
on a breezy day
without a frown

and not a care in the world
unlike me the worrier
carrying the weight of death
on my shoulders
no hero am I

no
no hero am I
despite what you say
I am only doing what little I can
keeping you laughing

in the face of everything
the tubes the treatments
the surgery the scars
I couldn’t be you
brave beauty

that you are

your name and mine

the storm last night blew
the last remaining heart-shaped leaves
from the poplar trees
and swirled them through my darkest dreams
in which your knuckles rapped upon my eyelids
in which you called from beyond the clouds
my name and your name

and with growing intensity
every last remaining rusting roofing nail
that keeps my house from blowing asunder
jiggled like loose teeth in a crowded coffin box
on which your fingers had once released
the suffocating soil to bury my voice
from that day forth

oh that I would recognise you now
with your hair tangled in windblown knots
and your limbs akimbo amongst the fallen branches
strewn upon the orchard grass
where leaves lie rotting and colour is drained
from cheeks that once were apple flushed
with your lover’s kisses

you are but the ambient past to me
pliant and fluid with a light that glimmers
not guiding or warning or even moving
but still as a mirror on an oaken table
your calfskin gloves neatly folded
heart-shaped leaves from the poplar trees
pressed between the pages of your journal

all substance turned to dust that blows
on the opening of the crackling memory
you offered me no more than you could
the leaf held to the moonlight reveals its veins
as if the blood has been preternaturally drained
and I am left with only an echo
of your name and mine

on the fringe of realms

flight paths criss-cross on the fringe of realms
the robin lands on a confusion of chicken wire
looks about before darting in to feed his partner
sparrows and blue tits fly straight into their nests
away up the slope a thrush like an arrow nearing
pauses for one moment on the rusted fencing
then dives into the tangle of hedge and briars

in the bottom field a squadron of carrion crows
they glip and glide and gather in poplar trees
cow tails swish to swat away some pesky flies
seagulls merge with floating clouds up on high
the first swallow breezes in from faraway skies
glad to be back home despite the nip in the air
checking out it’s favourite haunts and meadows

there’s a blackbird with a white tail feather
a mob of magpies making a racket in the conifer
one of those that has grown too big for its roots
next winter it will come down with an axe swing
the wood chopper chops as the woodpecker pecks
chop after peck after chop after peck after chop
sound and motion in natural harmony

later I will draw down the night sky on all of this
with a broadcasting hand I will scatter the stars
the pull of a chord will lighten up the full moon
time for tawny owls to ke-wick and hoo-hoo-oooo
time to take my leave and leave without a trace
for I am not of this world despite all you have heard
I come and go in peace on wax paper wings

 

 

 

wild thing

I miss dragging on a cigarette
drinking until my head is wrecked

dancing until my legs are dead
not hearing what the hell you said

inside the music’s cranked up loud
our hearts are pumping to the sound

of disco, punk and reggae beats
the laser lights and strobes compete

with dodgy drugs and taking risks
swigging back cold cans of Schlitz

we’re just clowning not frowning
this morning’s young in a seaside town

now it’s 5 a.m. and we’re on the beach
the moon and stars are out of reach

our hearts and souls are on the wing
it’s time to leave my wild thing

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Love Bus

All aboard the famous love bus
There’s room for you and me
We’ll drive right to the end of time
To see what we can see

The driver is a friend of mine
His name is Mr Blue Jay Way
He’ll take us to the moon and back
So climb on board today

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