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Metallic Spiderwebs & the City

Metallic Spiderwebs & the City

Metallic Spiderwebs & the City

The landscape of my youth is a spiders’ web of gardens; Strung between thin and creaky train lines, laced like Metal string across this city.

At the end of each string hangs a dew drop of hidden stone Or wood. Encrusted in pillowy moss, yawning from the regular Cavities of brick work. Sunken in swirling courtyards or Fenced in sprawling lawns. Enamoured of swaying…

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Maariv with Godspeed

Huddled together, In the thin darkness. Through moments of silence, Only the shuffle of feet And dulcet whispers Of hidden words. Gathered here To witness and to hear We join in congregation, Our arms pressed against Each other – Row after row, All amassed just to feel. The sound The screech and the roar, The most human cacophony, Realised in bleak and beautiful Cries and drones. We are pressed…

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Třebíč

Lying in peaceful repose on the southern side of the hill, Beneath the weak autumnal sun And a dressing of leaves – A blanket of fire – Here I walk with the dead. Here they are one with the land. Nature has reclaimed some, Mired in thick vines. Others still stand out, Planted in the hill, Quiet watchers. All lie here, still, On the side of this climb that Hemmed in their world all their lives.…

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The Leaves

The rain chips at the windows, a slow clicking like a mad-clock. The wind sings its sallow melody, dampened by my scarf, But still I can make out the medley’s mortal root – The brush of dead and decaying leaves on cold glass and Asphalt cold and torn by heavy boot. The occasional splash of standing water replete With the scuff or scud of icey sheened concrete. And the scent, that accompanies the…

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Oscillatory Union

Under the pale blue sky, the moon slowly stretches Jostling amongst the stars for a better position. At least I know that would be true, If we could see any stars from this ancient courtyard But the only star we can see is you. On this cloying London evening you bring Your breezy southern charm – And your songs that spill their gentle melodies Over the air like so much wine Drunkenly dislodged.…

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Why would you ever go back?

Why would you ever go back?

The glint and flare, pulsing off of rear view mirrors, Their car close enough to make out the silhouettes of Driver and passengers. We slow down towards the intersection – praying the light will Turn green before we have to stop.   We first noticed them along the highway – The wind tussling and pulling the trees in a Solemn dance. Waving and beckoning all Down the baleful tarmac, the winds…

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My Willing Heart

Little pieces, like fractals of rain-scorched light, Dot the slick screen of the bus. Sometimes it feels like I am waiting for the light Within me, to coalesce and move into place – Like the random trails criss-crossing this nocturnal screen – Only when its swirling tempo reaches some Frequency I can understand, can my mind Wake from the liminal and articulate the Undulating shadow of my heart.…

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The Alien Body

I see a body, Face, eyes and Hair, drabbed in Pale skin. I see it in the mirror, Though not how I normally see. I stare right through Possession. “My” is appended to nothing, I see the body just as it is – alien. I feel, finally, the shock Of embodiment. The question mark left hanging Over my conscious experience. Why here? Like this? What is this fleshy mass When de-robed of the lick Of my…

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Synchronicity

Summer breath is not just the ebb And flow of wind. It’s not just the Gentle breeze brushing the grass Or combing the vertiginous trees. It’s a colouration, a feeling, Bounded in the new warmth Waxing the growing buds and leaves; Sprouting from their branches, indifferent To the seasons passing. But in gratitude For the new world they burst in Proud colours and smells. I walk through the shady…

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Illusion

Like uninterrupted skies Of azure lacquered blue, The future spreads before us, Before me, before you.

When I look up and I see, The same scene stretched above The same colour here as there, I know the future looks the same too.

Open, hopeful, beautiful – Essential to my every waking moment, The belief that it will be better, That summer will return to these streets These streets of my youth where

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Spring's Thoughts

Spring interred in my Lungs unburdened by Pangs of rainless clouds, now Filled with rains’ breath.

Novitiate seasons raise Sun seeking blades, Green toed under earth Moistened wholesome dirt.

From fertile grounds anew, Fern-like ideas unfurl, Phrases and thoughts, Taciturn and taught, Easy as the weather’s face Changing with your heartbeat’s pace.

You wander into my mind’s stare, I hold you for a…

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Two Pieces

I yearn for all our dreams for all our illusions of being at home. – Abraham H De Vries

Two pieces, I am in two pieces. I sat on the tube and I read two pieces – I read De Vries and Gordimer – Placed only pages apart, As though they could occupy the same space.

I move from melancholic nostalgia, The pain only an immigrant feels, To stark suffering, The pain only the people feel.

I move from…

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Sound-bound

Star-bound, Moribund, Teeth – gnashing. The aching clink; Of metal on bone.

Flashing by Up high Listlessly prepared, Pressing in. Open & shut, Pointed & sharp, Warping and broken, But smooth to the touch.

I listen, Sometimes I hear, Through abstraction, Distractedly Contractedly Passingly Openly Sanctuary All around me – Sound

Cocoon woven, Out of sonic threads, Humming in sweet syncopation, Thrum…

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Misshapen

Trees spread like frozen husks, Arched in the flash freeze of last winter Waiting for the Spring thaw.

Brush and bludgeoned grass, underfoot; The weak sun overhead, stinging our eyes. This land isn’t dead, This land isn’t alive.

I prefer it like this, It makes me forget African fields. It makes me forget the tremendous vibrant trees, The golden afternoons. The soft face of the earth, I knew so…

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The Call There is a calm; Natural, like the pauses in the winds breath, That collects in the…

The Call

There is a calm; Natural, like the pauses in the winds breath, That collects in the streets. It fills the alleys and squares Finds every hole and crumbling wall – At the pre-ordained time.

Where noise stands defiantly, The merchant call and the passer by – The rumbling tempo of human voices, A cacophony of indifferent sound Are cut short; Pierced by the call.

A voice rises above the fray,

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Sky's Wake

Darkness creeps into the sky. The winter sun recedes slowly, Dragging stringy clouds in its wake. They cross and cleave, They score the sky in hopeful scars. Swollen oranges and reds, Pulsing softly through the threadbare trees.

I have not found room in winter, Room enough to write and feel, I haven’t found – the blinking futuristic Light. It evades me in the dark streets. I haven’t found – in the…

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Home, home

Home, home; (Returning to England) -

We land, plunged from the frigorific heavens onto familiar ground. The rain falls gently upon the great metal wings; Covering them in a hoary, nubile sheen. Soon we are thrust from our metal lung into that cold air - It fills my lungs – I am full of its icy love.

We drive in darkness, The shroud of night slowly falls; Imperceptible light illuminates the scene.