When Auden wrote Atlantis
A poem of elegance and grace
If he'd put it on this website
It would have sunk without a trace.

Dusty day
Emptying a whole house -
Someone else's house;
Emptying her whole life
Of collected dust
And children's essays,
I love my mummy, said the crayons,
Now they don't speak.
Tears aren't far away.
As for me,
It's just dust,
I'm sneezing.

Separate the hand from the rocks
For too long, and up it comes
The charge of static
The small bolt of lightning that shocks
And elicits an automatic cry.
Its erratic intensity: a measure
Of distance and time that's come between,
Far apart - isolated from contact.
It will ground you, take you back
To zero
And bring you down to earth.

On your own - no change marked
Imperceptible charge grows,
Ions negative and unbidden,
Your remove from society deepens;
Your relation and bond to others weakens,
Until contact becomes a danger
TO ALL PARTIES.
No - from time to time touch base,
Family, funny friend, ground,
You must earth the Soul.

There are a thousand darknesses
That lie ahead
To escape the fastness
Of our marital bed.

So much to lose
Time, money, emotional life
I have to choose
To wield the knife,

To cut the bond
The spirit, the law
To wave the wand
Extract your claws

I won't return
I can't go back
The light I discern,
The tunnel, the track.

A one-way journey,
Committed and sure,
The way to be free,
To close the door.

Goodbye, you hell-cat,
Goodbye, once-loved,
A whirlwind, a witch's hat,
A doldrum, velvet-gloved.

You are wild, you are calm,
First you love, then despise,
I was lost in your charm,
Fooled by your disguise

I run free, I'm alive,
I can't help you find peace,
Adieu, my future arrives,
This blessed release.

Some people have an IT that they must face
A beast ahead or demon on the shoulder
For them the IT is writ in upper case.

I fear that many men hide every trace
Of tears and self in masks appearing bolder
Some people have an IT that they must face

And those who gaze transfixed at the sheer pace
Of life's descent to dust, to rust and moulder,
For them the IT is writ in upper case.

My beauty meets her monsters every place.
And though I'm often there to hug and hold her
My darling has an IT that she must face

She battles them with discipline and grace
And lives by dint of detail, file and folder
Each labelled by an IT in upper case.

Though time will always catch us in the chase
It's fear of living true that turns us colder
Some people have an IT that they must face
For them the IT is writ in upper case.

First the illicit thrill
Becomes routine habit
Run of the mill
Like you're invincible.

Once, your heart beated
Feverish, hesitant,
Now you swagger, unheated,
The cheat can't be cheated.

The check-out girl, Lizzie,
Is trusting and smiling
Then she turns away, busy
And you're suddenly dizzy.

To your pocket inside
Go the chocolate bars -
Though it's undignified
There's a strange kind of pride.

Then - out of the blue,
In front of the world,
One day she asks you....
And what can you do?

...But collapse to your core
Like a worm-eaten apple
Pray to fall through the floor
You are Named, evermore.

Oh - the shame! she's disgusted
You're a thief, you're mistrusted
All that shock and self-loathing
For those moments you lusted.

Poor girl, she won't be aware
That her face and her voice
Will feature forever
As worst memory, lowest nightmare.

You'll be chilled to the bone
And you'll ask yourself "Why?"
Without job, wife or home,
Foolish, guilty, alone?

Love - don't get me started
You might as well quit now

For it's a one-way trip
A banana-skin slip
All the way from perfect pleasure,
A new-found treasure,
To divorce-court perjury.
Open-heart surgery,
From libido to libel
All the hate in the Bible
First you're lost in her eyes
Then you learn to despise
It might take a few years
And take all your tears...

But Love - looking back..
Yes, it was worth it 
Happy now?
Christ I deserve it

Bright-eyed and bold
With dreams that unfold
Artless, naïve and hopeful
A certain unease, that shifts with the breeze
Afflicts you
You think that bliss
Doesn’t come with just a kiss
But to other lands you fly
In your mind, unsatisfied
Such discontentment inside
Wishing….

Wishing for walks, for long midnight talks
The hearth of a snowbound cabin
Mysterious scenes from a cinema screen
Fill your mind
If I could make all your dreams come true
And take you to Heaven – I would
You’d still be wishing for more
Always unsettled, unsure
Wishing… wishing…

Wishing for grace, a moonlit embrace
Tears bathing hands at parting
A silk-curtained room, and the finest perfumes
Are your due
When you survey your reality
It makes you turn away, away
You grow detached day by day
Wishing for what - you can’t say

My blood flows so dutifully
Sweat arrives on cue
Skin protects quite beautifully
Heart beats strong and true

Breath turns up when needed
It hasn't failed in years.
Muscles work unheeded
Faithful as eyes and ears

My body and I
We have so little in common

In this morning's waiting room
And then the café, breaking bread -

I might have read,
Engaged in reverie
Lost myself in thoughts,
Or meditative memory.

But someone overruled
To agitate the air
With an imbroglio
With the inane, vain,
Smug banter of local radio.

It claimed the arena,
And turned our space
From haven into mayhem,
Compulsively silting up
My poor, empty ears
With an unhealthy sound.
Like painting out the view
Behind Beata Beatrix
With a filthy fairground.

Just what we need!
This constant aural cattle-feed.
So: every tree in my opinion
- (I'm speaking as a lowly minion)
Should be hung with massive speakers
Huge loudspeakers, woofers, tweeters,
To entertain us in every place
With never-ending drum and bass,
Then verbose youths, with wit so clever
Can pump us full of **** forever.

Don't lose sight of it all,
The big things,
The earth, the hills, the desert,
The wind, the air, the sky,
The fire, the sun, the stars,
The water, the ocean, the river.

Don't lose sight of it all,
The small things,
The gestures,
The baby's cry,
The soft sound of breathing,
The smile.

Remember it all:
Hope and good thinking,
Time for talking,
Being human,
The warmth of her skin.
Before death comes,
You should live.

Second time lucky! - This failed
The nine word poem competition.

The love of a woman -
Although precious,
Is still external,
A wonderful, glorious view,
A panorama to be seen,
All outside and good...

But Hannah, my only child,
She is internal too
Part of me,
An extension of my flesh,
A bond, not mystical or imagined,
But physical and emotional.
Loving her is natural,
Painful and exquisite
I am in her eyes,
In loving her I love myself;
My own childhood, my needs,
Are in her innocent face;
Her laughter is my own,
Her cry is my sorrow.

My sense of loss compounded:
I feel her feeling of loss,
This inevitable separation,
This "best way":
How it hurts!
She may blame me,
She may feel rejected,
But she is not,
She will never be rejected.

If only that one fact
Could resolve all emotions.

I'm welling up with hope
I'm looking round the corner
I'm searching in the trees
I'm casting out the nets
I'm digging in the dirt
I'm peering through a small hole
I'm listening to a big clock
I'm waiting on the seashore
I'm making all things ready
I'm yearning for the right time
I'm longing for your love

Bright clasp of her whole hand
Around my finger
My daughter as we walk together now
All my life I'll feel a ring invisibly
Circle this bone with shining:
When she is grown
Far from today as her eyes are far already.

What gift is this?
I see colours flashing
With heavy eyelids closed
And burning smoky aromatic herbs
Fill my nostrils
Life suddenly richer,
More vibrant -
Oh but the light! -
The fabulous, dazzling headaches
The spinning, pinning pain
The swinging, swingeing mood

Now the transient slideshow
Almost romantic dances
Of a neighbourhood's pitying glances
Whether to hug or spit venom?
There's a snake in my head.

And my family's faces...
Iron resolve
Crumbled by rusting tears.

The suspense is killing us.
This delay is like comedy.
The hiatus of having
A foot in each world.

Throwing myself from the wooden bridge,
I got a splinter.