Stern men line a path, to
Doors with plaques stating former occupants:
Chopin, Churchill, Napoleon III.

Overhead flags hang early evening shadows
From ornate golden arms
Across the first of nine or ten marble steps.

And up them walk folk with schmoozing faces
From cars with private drivers
And windows tinted black.

White limestone porticos are
Split by solid black adorned with gold,
And expensive gowns in violent colour.

And I notice the eyes
Fixed on my passing
As I slip into familiar grey.

(verb) Observe.

1. Notice or perceive (something) and register it as being significant.
1.1. Watch (someone or something) carefully and attentively.

Observe all. See all as significant.
Especially that which seems strikingly not so.
Watch it carefully, attentively, examine the subject, the object, the Thought. Stop and take your thoughts in, then;

Sit and let the words out;
Sit and be quick, for observations are constant;
Sit and you may forget them all, so
Sit, and write.

Observe beauty—or ugliness—in the mundane
And the daily.
The prettiness of flowers is well documented
As is personal love.

Observe feeling without vague subjectiveness
Or dreamt-up narrative.
Observe your surroundings and take in that moment
Five minutes to write it down
(Or ten, if you're lucky).

Cast away your barriers.
Meter and rhyme,
Lines ending with full sto—
—Vocabulary narcissism.

Let everyone understand your words, for
Poetry is not for the well-educated
Or the creative
Or the recluse,

Poetry is for all that observe
And register their sights and sounds significant.
The poet merely watches carefully and attentively
Then marks it down

(noun) Poetry

1. Observation

The wind is ripping
From the sound of oscillating
Overhead 'copters
Splitting my vision.

In the peripherals;

       A polyester carpet—sleeping bags—breaks the dry monotony of summer grass;
       The bicycle courier awakes from said floor, listless;
       Important man, suited, takes calls from other men, suited — octopus arms scattering papers, receipts, coffee cups and tie;
       Two hard hat builders chain cigarettes and fight visible hangovers, droopy eyes staring down some impending scaffold.

And I almost miss it all,
For the passing,
Of oscillating 'copters.

Pinprick morning eyes
See
Through blurry
Films;
            
            A rough sleeper/panhandling hopeful, wide awake, wishing a good morning — in my pocket, a toehold on Everest's side;
            A second (a girl), she's taught her dog to hold The Big Issue in between its yellow-black teeth;
            A scattering of people staring, smiling (at the pet)—"look, look"—"isn't it cute"—"bless"—;
            A flat expression, dead eyes (the girl's), she's ******* a selection of cuts on her arm, invisible;
            A tragic scene, in the shadow of London's limestone Everests.

But the toehold leaves
Selfishly
In my rushing, full
Pocket.

A composition, bordered by brown track, white shelter and
yellow line;

off-white, smear-windowed building (background)
                                  hexagonal floors, brutalist mandala;
triangle across the frame, a *****, polluted structure
                                  one half of a red cross logo, boarded windows
                                  - chipboard, corrugation, MDF;
and Southern Rail green is grass in the lower foreground
                                  arrows, words, people.

Rastafarian perches on a BT wiring cab
Slapping dark green metal and screaming
Obscenities in Patois and nonsense
Alone.

          Passersby stare; shrieking oldies;
                                       laughing kids;
                                       bewildered Neil;
                                       and I

Sit drinking, taking it all in
Alone.