Saturday, 25 April 2015

Poem 24 /30 Table for Three

Table for Three

That bright, fresh April morning

where sunlight jimmies its way in

through the smallest fissure in the curtains,

making your alarm clock redundant.


Sunlight that won’t be ignored.  

Wakefulness floods in

no matter how deep your sleep,

it is now evicted from your body.


Drawn to the window to inspect the day,

my eye is drawn to movement on

garden table and chairs.

A blue tit, breath of feather and


coloured blaze, hops and twitches:

armrest, table, chairback, table,

different chair, table and so on.

a full inspection then in a blink, gone.


The absence saddens. Until…..

three of them alight, food in their tiny beaks.

Use the table for breakfast, though wild birds

they can still be civilised.


I like to think, Dad came in first,

scoped it out, ensured its quality.

Having satisfied his criteria,

made a reservation.

Friday, 24 April 2015

Poem for Today called 131

A  sombre poem today for a sombre story



Coffins should be sad enough

even for those you don’t know.

John Donne still making sense

After all these centuries.


The news is the backing track

as I read. I’m tuning it out,

the occasional glance thrown its way

due to the screen’s hypnotic pull.


I snap to the story at the image

two dozen or more coffins

laid out in not quite accurate

columns and rows.


Dead refugees in a strange lands,

caught mid leap between

fear and desperate hope

by the hostility of the sea.  


The story moves on.

Soldiers bear them in teams of six

arms round shoulders for stability

gently shepherd their burden in church.


On the end wooden panel near their feet

hand written in marker pen is

the simplest, practical yet rending epitaph:

“Body Number 131”.

Thursday, 23 April 2015

St George's Day poem


A Celebration of Englishness for St George’s Day, inspired by the results of a survey asking what things we thought of as “typically” English. Can you guess which came top?
Discussing the Weather
A Sunday Roast
Going to the pub
Marmite on Toast
Being down-to-earth
Stiff upper lips
Extreme politeness
Fish and Chips
A nice cup of tea
Queueing up
Going to the pub
The FA Cup
The Queen’s speech at Christmas
Mowing the lawn
Telling your kids
“You don’t know you’re born”
Going to the pub
Having a Sing-Song
Saying sorry when
You’ve done nothing wrong
William Shakespeare
Stories of the Blitz
A full English Breakfast
Cream Tea at the Ritz
Going to the pub
Missing the last bus
Going to the pub
Not making a fuss
Going to the pub
Dunkirk Spirit
Going to the pub
Just A Minute
Going to the pub
Going to the pub
Going to the pub
Going to the pub
George and the Dragon
Working Men’s Clubs
Roses in bloom and
Going to the pub
Proud, yet always moaning
Ah! There’s the rub
Cry God for Harry, England and St George….
I’m off down the pub!

Wednesday, 22 April 2015

Poem 21 / 30 MK Rose poem



The MK Rose in Campbell Park is a public artwork in Milton Keynes designed by leading artist Gordon Young. It is a circular piazza inspired by the mathematics of a rose window. Marble columns of varying heights rise up from the surface. In the centre is a sculpted marble rosebud.  At the opening event, I noticed quite a few people and touch or pat the top of it and the marble pillars. I mentioned this to Gordon and he said there was a discussion to be had about the psychology of statures and sculptures that were designed to be touched. We haven’t had that conversation as yet but the thought inspired the poem about that centrepiece of the MK Rose and the pillars.
Non Verbal Communication
“Touch has a memory.” John Keats
Touch it for luck
Touch it for love
Touch it to be close to
The one you’re thinking of
Touch it for sorrow
Touch it for joy
Touch it for a girl
Touch it for a boy
Touch it for comfort
To lessen the pain
Touch it in sunshine
Touch it in rain
Touch it for rights
Touch it for wrongs
Touch it in silence
Touch it in song
Touch it for justice
Touch it for peace
Touch it for courage in battle
Or for your war to cease
Touch it for family
Touch it for friends
Touch it for beginnings
Touch it for ends
Touch it in solidarity
Touch it for strength
Touch it close up
Or at arm’s length
Touch it for loss
Touch is for found
Touch it to be silly
Or to think the profound
Touch it for leaving
Or when you return
Touch it to teach and
Touch it to learn
Touch it just briefly
Or embrace it too much
Feel it to rediscover
The power of touch
Touch it in hope or
To bless your new start
Whatever your reason
I hope it touches your heart