l thought of you just now
my mind wandered in and out of the long grass
through bushes
along a path
through a gate and on to an empty beach
and there you were
sitting cross legged
before the sunset
there was a space
on the towel next to you
l sat  there
and together we watched the sun go down
once it had disappeared
l turned to speak to you
but you had gone
like a sunset

You
I saw
You.
I did
I saw you
Saw you give,
To me
To others
To sisters
To brothers
I saw kin
I saw slim
I saw mild,
So fast
It was wild
How did I see
So much
So free?
What is it
To me
To you
To him
To them?
Begin
Again
I saw you
What you do
What is it for
What I saw?
What did I see?
Me,
I saw
Me.

Before the sun had risen
This morning
I turned in my bed
And hooked my little finger
Through the wires attached to my ipod shuffle
Plugged in the ear phones
And pressed play
But there was no sound
The battery had lost its charge
I didn’t get up
I wanted music
So I lay back and closed my eyes
And thought of you
The music you make
The clash of cymbals when you are angry
The sweet sound of the flute when
You have no cares,
The deep sonorous bellow of the trombone when you are serious
The plucking of strings when you are contrary
The lush harmony of the string section when you declare you allegiance
The stark blast of the trumpet when you force me to think
The doleful melancholy of the cello
The sad wail of an electric guitar
And l thought
Yeah
You are an orchestral score of the movie of your life
I thought of all this
Before the sun had risen

I am gentle
I am kind
I can see
I am blind
I walk the line
I walk fast
I come in first
I come in last
I feel happy
I feel sad
I am good
I am bad
I try hard
I try my best
I try serious
I try jest
I can’t be
Yes I can
I could be
Just a man
I sing songs
I make no sound
From Penny Lane
To Homeward Bound
I have dreams
I cannot sleep
I just doze
And stretch my feet
I’m in love
I’m in a spot
It’s complex
No it’s not
I make mistakes
I make do,
I make biscuits
I make you
Laugh at me
Laugh with you
Laugh a lot
Laugh a few
But who am I
But who am I  
But who am I
Make a guess
I am gentle
I am kind
I can see
I am……..blessed!

She looked at me
I looked at her
Uncomprehending
We stared
Two creatures with no knowledge of each other’s way of life
She continued to peck and tear at the back of her prey
A polite pigeon
Who had the temerity, and strength, to carry its killer on its back
Looking in vain to escape.
The pigeon blinked, resigned to its fate as her talons gripped tighter
The beak dug deeper.
Death came and the eyes closed
Peacefully, quietly.
The snapping of the beak on bone the only sound.
She paused to **** on the pigeon’s wing
Then continued her meal stabbing into the back
And the neck
Her mouth thick with blood
She had killed for food
A cruelty unknown to we who shop for ours, leaving the killing to others
The image of death remained with me
The ripping, tearing of feathers, skin and bone
The stare of her yellow eyes empty of compassion, regret or guilt but full of ferocity of savagery
All taking places on a soft bed of fluff white and grey feathers
As other pigeons sat and watched and cooed
I scooped up the remains later
It was a headless carcass.
Without a soul
Without religion
Without those beautiful innocent blinking eyes

Who am I?
A man of principle
Who would not wish anyone to come to harm
Least of all through his own acts, words or deeds.
Or am I a predatory sloth
Waiting in the shadows
For another unsuspecting female
To walk by
Whereupon, I would slither out
And try to entice her into the darkness
To share some loathsome activity
Under the heading of Art?
Am I the merry idiot whose sharp asides
Are the very essence of wit
Or am I thinking, planning, scheming
An unacceptable attack on the virtue
Of young virgins attracted by my fame
And yet mollified by my illness.
Yes, who is this man who is desperate to shed his clothes
In order to reveal the real him
The naked babe in the cot
Before sin permeated his disgusting mind
So perverted that even his wife cannot bear
Even the tiniest suspicion of a caress?
I speak of him now in the third person
Even I cannot own him.
Who is he?
Nothing.
A battery operated *** doll
Drugged out of his mind
Who can hardly speak or walk in a straight line
Let alone stand tall and *****.
I have told you who he is.
Now, you tell me
Who am I?

There is a lone rider in the sky.
I have never seen his face
But, late at night
I hear the ring of his spurs
As he urges his steed forward, forward.
He used never to be on his own
There used to be riders by the score
But his companions have disappeared, one by one
Until only this man and his horse remain
Listen
I hear the ring of his spurs again
This time it falls more gently upon my ear
I look up
As the evening approaches
It is becoming darker
Not so easy to see the lone rider in the sky
Listen.
There is no sound.
Look
Both man and animal have gone.