It is funny to see banners wishing Happiness displayed with cinematic glamour,
the pictures and hordings of Banner heroes.

The one at Tannery Road junction was peculiar to mention.
Here it was common
The captions "Happy" used to summon names of sundry festivals-Local  and national, even internstional.
What's uncommon was the bold prints
of a hero's name ARUMALAI outshining
The caption and his larger than life picture establishing the photographer's digital brushing skills.
A passer by wondered who'd be this Arumalai,
Is he so great as to be advertised in polivynil?
His glorious deeds may be what they want you to heed
Still never ever seen or heard of his manners
Anywhere than in these motley banners
Just as a function
at the Tannery road junction

Each one passed by this colossal glance attracted provoking  protracted ruminance  what do this expensive banners really mean?

In another occasion
the  glaring glorifying picture
of ARUMALAI followed the tag
Corporator,
Below the man posing a DICTATOR.
That was a period to a period of mystery!

Banners changed with seasons
with greetings on religious occasions
Festivals of importance
Birthdays of men even
with crowded profiles of hailers
Whose unrully manners
Too clogging up the banners
Like a wanted list of jailors.

One day a strange banner
hooked by the Tannery cross over
Spooked and shocked every passer-by
There the usual banner cut out
the larger than life image blings-out
Arumalai the BBMB corporator
Posing as dictator!

There was no wish of any kind.
It was a notice startling any mind
The sad demise of ARUMALAI
The BBMB corporator
Still possed as dectator
By his living promoters.

"He was sick and the local dispensary advised a minor operation.
He was administered
the necessary treatment.
Was referred to a super-speciality
centre and was declared dead.
His sad demise was advertised, he was forty.
His chummies complained of medical negligence", was the only news summary
in major news papers...
What was the reason for the minor surgery
What're the preparations
for the corporator's  operation
All are mystery for a  causal itinerary
passer by crossing over the Tannery Road junction,  wondering at the strange envountering with banners
that come and go
Keeping no annals
Floating on the mind for a while
Stopping at the red's knell,
Moving with the green signal
The rise and fall of heroes
As binary one and zero
The banners tell a story tertiary
Of the rise and fall of a luninary
Within a plane ofmomentary
Variation of red and green
On the Tannery road's screen.

I am the **** in your pristine garden,
Hidden between the Hollyhocks and Petunias,
Unwanted, I lift my head high,
Invasive, pervasive, you hate me.
You spray me with emotional roundup.
You wish I would simply go away
Crushed under your foot yesterday,
I wilted under your hate.
Resurrected by the creators love,
In joy I dance to his music,
That floats on the wind.


I am a rose of Sharon,
Planted firmly in the dirt.
Hated by you for just being,
The one who made me loves me,
He loves me unconditionally.
Planted in the wilderness,
Where he walks in search
Of those who seek his name.
If you see me know that, he is near.
Yet you hate me for being the ****.
Invasive that shows up in the cracks,
Of your frequent well-beaten paths of hatred.
You stomp on me, mangled I lie still.
Revived by my God who loves me.

Someday he will do justice,
Someday he will show them mercy,
Them that failed to love his creation.
He animates me an earthen vessel,
With emotions triggered by fluid actions,
His loving smile, His tender touch,
In his love and goodness, I find joy.
The joy that effuses and rises to my brain,
Like a flooding sea of contentment,
Knowing that in him I have rest, I am secure and calm.
From your bitterness, that floods my feet,
He produces exquisite flowers and sweetest fruits.


Freely I give the love I receive,
As fragrance it wafts on the breeze,
Used to the smell of death and dying,
The Tanner smelling the fragrance of Love and Life faints.
They revive him with curing leather from the tannery.
Someday the tanner will appreciate fragrance,
Someday the night shift miner appreciate the light,
Someday those that cry for war will love peace,
Someday those that hate others learn to love.
Someday those that clang pots and pans in raucous cacophony,
Will find peace and quiet in his sweet rhapsodies and quiet melodies.
And the promoters of the ugliest of ugliness,
Love the beauty of God's creation.
Some day will this enslaved and captive soul fly free?
Forever free in the plains of Eternity.

I am the **** in your pristine garden,

Hidden between the Hollyhocks and Petunias,

Unwanted, I lift my head high,

Invasive, pervasive, you hate me.

You spray me with emotional roundup.

You wish I would simply go away

Crushed under your foot yesterday,

I wilted under your hate.

Resurrected by the creators love,

In joy I dance to his music,

That floats on the wind.

I am a rose of Sharon,

Planted firmly in the dirt.

Hated by you for just being,

I am loved by the one who made me,

Loved unconditionally.

Planted in the wilderness,

Where he walks in search

Of those who seek his name.

If you see me know that he is near.

Yet you hate me for being the ****.

Invasive, that shows up in the cracks,

Of your well beaten paths.

You stomp on me, mangled I lie still.

Revived by God who loves me.

Someday he will do justice,

Someday he will show them mercy,

For failing to love his creation.

He animates me an earthen vessel,

With emotions triggered by fluid actions,

His loving smile, His tender touch,

In his love and goodness I find joy.

The joy that effuses and rises to my brain,

In its flooding sea of contentment,

Knowing that in him I have rest I am secure and calm.

From your bitterness that floods my feet,

He produces exquisite flowers and sweetest fruits.

Freely I give the love I receive,

As fragrance it wafts on the breeze,

Used to the smell of death and dying,

The Tanner smelling the fragrance of Love and Life faints.

They revive him with curing leather from the tannery.

Someday the tanner will appreciate fragrance,

Someday the night shift miner appreciate the light,

Someday those that cry for war will love peace,

Someday those that hate others learn to love.

Someday those that clang pots and pans in raucous cacophony,

Will find peace and quiet in his sweet rhapsodies and quiet melodies.

And the promoters of the ugliest of ugliness,

Love the beauty of God's creation.

Some day will the enslaved and captive soul fly free,

Forever free in the plains of Eternity.

The water was further away when I was a boy
and the land
it was much longer
jutting out into Sacandaga like the lone remaining tooth
in the smile of an old tannery worker

Now,
the tooth worn away by years of
spring waves
and thick winter ice,
the land is more a nub than a point

but many things are the same

the early morning call of a bird through fog
a fish splashing through his sky to ours then returning to his
car doors and the sounds of the marina coming alive
the unsyncopated drum beat of coolers and tackle boxes
being dropped into an aluminum rowboat
then strained sounds as an outboard motor pushes its load
through the water

which was further away when I was a boy

I am the **** in your pristine garden,

Hidden between the Hollyhocks and Petunias,

Unwanted, I lift my head high,

Invasive, pervasive, you hate me.

You spray me with emotional roundup.

You wish I would simply go away

Crushed under your foot yesterday,

I wilted under your hate.

Resurrected by the creators love,

In joy I dance to his music,

That floats on the wind.


I am a rose of Sharon,

Planted firmly in the dirt.

Hated by you for just being,

I am loved by the one who made me,

Loved unconditionally.

Planted in the wilderness,

Where he walks in search

Of those who seek his name.

If you see me know that he is near.

Yet you hate me for being the ****.

Invasive, that shows up in the cracks,

Of your well beaten paths.

You stomp on me, mangled I lie still.

Revived by God who loves me.


Someday he will do justice,

Someday he will show them mercy,

For failing to love his creation.

He animates me an earthen vessel,

With emotions triggered by fluid actions,

His loving smile, His tender touch,

In his love and goodness I find joy.

The joy that effuses and rises to my brain,

Like a flooding sea of contentment,

Knowing that in him I have rest, I am secure and calm.

From your bitterness that floods my feet,

He produces exquisite flowers and sweetest fruits.


Freely I give the love I receive,

As fragrance it wafts on the breeze,

Used to the smell of death and dying,

The Tanner smelling the fragrance of Love and Life faints.

They revive him with curing leather from the tannery.

Someday the tanner will appreciate fragrance,

Someday the night shift miner appreciate the light,

Someday those that cry for war will love peace,

Someday those that hate others learn to love.

Someday those that clang pots and pans in raucous cacophony,

Will find peace and quiet in his sweet rhapsodies and quiet melodies.

And the promoters of the ugliest of ugliness,

Love the beauty of God's creation.

Some day will the enslaved and captive soul fly free,

Forever free in the plains of Eternity.

I am the **** in your pristine garden,
Hidden between the Hollyhocks and Petunias,
Unwanted, I lift my head high,
Invasive, pervasive, you hate me.
You spray me with emotional roundup.
You wish I would simply go away
Crushed under your foot yesterday,
I wilted under your hate.
Resurrected by the creators love,
In joy I dance to his music,
That floats on the wind.


I am a rose of Sharon,
Planted firmly in the dirt.
Hated by you for just being,
The one who made me loves me,
He loves me unconditionally.
Planted in the wilderness,
Where he walks in search
Of those who seek his name.
If you see me know that, he is near.
Yet you hate me for being the ****.
Invasive that shows up in the cracks,
Of the well-beaten paths of hatred, you frequent.
You stomp on me, mangled I lie still.
Revived by my God who loves me.

Someday he will do justice,
Someday he will show them mercy,
Them that failed to love his creation.
He animates me an earthen vessel,
With emotions triggered by fluid actions,
His loving smile, His tender touch,
In his love and goodness, I find joy.
The joy that effuses and rises to my brain,
Like a flooding sea of contentment,
Knowing that in him I have rest, I am secure and calm.
From your bitterness, that floods my feet,
He produces exquisite flowers and sweetest fruits.


Freely I give the love I receive,
As fragrance it wafts on the breeze,
Used to the smell of death and dying,
The Tanner smelling the fragrance of Love and Life faints.
They revive him with curing leather from the tannery.
Someday the tanner will appreciate fragrance,
Someday the night shift miner appreciate the light,
Someday those that cry for war will love peace,
Someday those that hate others learn to love.
Someday those that clang pots and pans in raucous cacophony,
Will find peace and quiet in his sweet rhapsodies and quiet melodies.
And the promoters of the ugliest of ugliness,
Love the beauty of God's creation.
Some day will this enslaved and captive soul fly free?
Forever free in the plains of Eternity.

I am the **** in your pristine garden,
Hidden between the Hollyhocks and Petunias,
Unwanted, I lift my head high,
Invasive, pervasive, you hate me.
You spray me with emotional roundup.
You wish I would simply go away
Crushed under your foot yesterday,
I wilted under your hate.
Resurrected by the creators love,
In joy I dance to his music,
That floats on the wind.


I am a rose of Sharon,
Planted firmly in the dirt.
Hated by you for just being,
The one who made me loves me,
He loves me unconditionally.
Planted in the wilderness,
Where he walks in search
Of those who seek his name.
If you see me know that, he is near.
Yet you hate me for being the ****.
Invasive that shows up in the cracks,
Of the well-beaten paths of hatred, you frequent.
You stomp on me, mangled I lie still.
Revived by my God who loves me.

Someday he will do justice,
Someday he will show them mercy,
Them that failed to love his creation.
He animates me an earthen vessel,
With emotions triggered by fluid actions,
His loving smile, His tender touch,
In his love and goodness, I find joy.
The joy that effuses and rises to my brain,
Like a flooding sea of contentment,
Knowing that in him I have rest, I am secure and calm.
From your bitterness, that floods my feet,
He produces exquisite flowers and sweetest fruits.


Freely I give the love I receive,
As fragrance it wafts on the breeze,
Used to the smell of death and dying,
The Tanner smelling the fragrance of Love and Life faints.
They revive him with curing leather from the tannery.
Someday the tanner will appreciate fragrance,
Someday the night shift miner appreciate the light,
Someday those that cry for war will love peace,
Someday those that hate others learn to love.
Someday those that clang pots and pans in raucous cacophony,
Will find peace and quiet in his sweet rhapsodies and quiet melodies.
And the promoters of the ugliest of ugliness,
Love the beauty of God's creation.
Some day will this enslaved and captive soul fly free?
Forever free in the plains of Eternity.

I am the **** in your pristine garden,
Hidden between the Hollyhocks and Petunias,
Unwanted, I lift my head high,
Invasive, pervasive, you hate me.
You spray me with emotional roundup.
You wish I would simply go away
Crushed under your foot yesterday,
I wilted under your hate.
Resurrected by the creators love,
In joy I dance to his music,
That floats on the wind.


I am a rose of Sharon,
Planted firmly in the dirt.
Hated by you for just being,
The one who made me loves me,
He loves me unconditionally.
Planted in the wilderness,
Where he walks in search
Of those who seek his name.
If you see me know that, he is near.
Yet you hate me for being the ****.
Invasive that shows up in the cracks,
Of your frequent well-beaten paths of hatred.
You stomp on me, mangled I lie still.
Revived by my God who loves me.

Someday he will do justice,
Someday he will show them mercy,
Them that failed to love his creation.
He animates me an earthen vessel,
With emotions triggered by fluid actions,
His loving smile, His tender touch,
In his love and goodness, I find joy.
The joy that effuses and rises to my brain,
Like a flooding sea of contentment,
Knowing that in him I have rest, I am secure and calm.
From your bitterness, that floods my feet,
He produces exquisite flowers and sweetest fruits.


Freely I give the love I receive,
As fragrance it wafts on the breeze,
Used to the smell of death and dying,
The Tanner smelling the fragrance of Love and Life faints.
They revive him with curing leather from the tannery.
Someday the tanner will appreciate fragrance,
Someday the night shift miner appreciate the light,
Someday those that cry for war will love peace,
Someday those that hate others learn to love.
Someday those that clang pots and pans in raucous cacophony,
Will find peace and quiet in his sweet rhapsodies and quiet melodies.
And the promoters of the ugliest of ugliness,
Love the beauty of God's creation.
Some day will this enslaved and captive soul fly free?
Forever free in the plains of Eternity.

Life, as with all Beings impregnated
Hamper these Virtues for those Teens delayed
To which we remind; In Growth compensated
Handy-Spread Vices from Feelings displayed
Perhaps from which - shun such Bloke-Haste Advice
Having spoiled these Inner Credentials since
What-Not? What-For? Skin that Crumpy Device -
Cross-dress Cat's Tannery to Barrows hence:
What this means - Sentinels - or Football-Humps
Even with Morals does enrich the Need
To hear a Lumper; Then post-date with mumps
Part-and-Parcel take Learning from a Seed.
This, after all, your Labels from Friends fear
Fortify your Codes; To Values they hear.

the idea left us dancing.

use what is already there,
make do and mend, linen

threads hang heavy, needles
preserved. small holes ready.

shall we mend the rags, or
pin them onto wool pads
ready for discovery.

these are the planning days,
the filming ways, of
lifts and wild imagininings.

the tabernacle wales.
the tannery.

sbm.

The words flock together
  and stretch on the frame

Their meaning runs over,
  still wet from the pain

The canvas is porous,
  the easel maligned

The curtains blow outward,
  faces calling in mime

The streets all a-chatter,
   it was Paris in spring

And striving to look busy,
  the most important of things

Looking back at my window,
  above the tannery so high

A shadow stares back
  —and I flee in disguise

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2016)

As local as shoe leather,
though laced a little differently
I still feel the pull of aul boody,
aul boy,
a voice of ancient things

this impossible centre of England
with the flow of Plantagenet
of Watling
of Nene and Welland
where nothing happens
but everything has

rich in silver willow
and tannery stink
still giving cause to think,
to feel Clare’s fears
as the inexorable tarmac is laid
and each day passed
as the hedged wren and dunnock
begin to explain
green and pleasant pains

The town tucks itself into its hoodie which for arguments sake we'll call a valley and up atop the surrounding hills where Victoria still lives by the spindles are those magnificent crouching monsters of houses which dwell half in the moonlight and half in the light of day.

I had my fill of cappuccino in the faux cotton mill and slogged my way through gawking tourists to the the old tannery yards passing by the second hand shops where history was being sold cut price,

Meat pie sandwiches as my brother says is what bread was made for, not being sure about this I ****** on some Kendal Mint Cake and still looking for 'Spanish Gold' I came across Tiger Nuts (remember them?) I can remember when my teeth numbered more than the nuts in a penny bag.

Aren't these what we are made from?

layers of where we came from.
sandwiched memories.

The words flock together
  and stretch on the frame

Their meaning runs over
  still wet from the pain

The canvas is porous
  the easel maligned

The curtains blow outward
  faces calling in mime

The streets all a-chatter,
   it was Paris in spring

And striving to look busy
  the most important of things

Looking back at my window
  above the tannery so high

A shadow stares back
  —and I flee in disguise

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2016)

It was an unornamented, workaday kind of place,
The type of hand-to-mouth concern
Scattered all through these not particularly grand towns
Tethered onto the old Grand Army Highway,
(Each interruption in the amalgamation
Of tight turns and gently stoop-shouldered hills
More or less the same, the only variation being
The extent to which the main drag was not what it once was)
A collection of the detritus and left-behinds
Of a place a comfortable preponderance of its denizens
Had found it prudent to leave in the rear-view mirror
Though the contents wherein more of a regional nature,
Old Duquesne beer signs and Penn State football programs,
Souvenirs such as Adelphia Cable jackets
Or 1954 Guaranty Paper calendars
Too painful or too precious to be put up for sale,
The edifice itself a gerrymandered concern,
Rooms created from dividers and acoustic wall panels
Yet unable to hide its giant single-room past
As some small manufacturing concern,
A machine shop or ancient tannery,
Telltale signs of ancient and abruptly capped plumbing
Incongruous fuse boxes and gas connections
Peeking out unobtrusively here and there.
We’d picked out a couple of bits and bobs,
Haggled respectfully but not aggressively
And swung the car back onto the main road
Heading west to Port Allegany,
Hoping to catch breakfast at a diner whose Yelp reviews
Lauded the quality of its corned beef hash,
Though we found the place shut tight,
A sign hopefully noting Temporarily Closed for Renovations
Yellow-taped and fading stuck fast to the front door.