I like to write. Here are some of the poems I'm working on.
There may be more.
There may be more.
Some music does thisI
How is it that some music gets under my skin and touches old primeval parts from before I became me before awareness or language? Opening rooms full of doubt resonating and slowly dislodging what I held close for so long it feels part of me the fear the expectation of rejection. Some music moves me to where I can just grasp a subtle truth of shared space and time. I listen and connect without wanting to an understanding, casual and complete that in the end - and the beginning we all belong without permission that the human club needs no one to confirm membership but myself. II How is it that some music reaches into my heart and disturbs dreams hidden under years of reality and risk-avoidance? Finding a crack, letting energy in rekindling a shimmering curiosity and longing for adventure I listen and sense unexpectedly the possibilities, lucid and luminous of living - even after all these years with the questions and courage that make meaning. III How is it that some music is not seen for the potent force it is, with catalytic qualities of making feelings heard? The unfettered fluttering of joy the stinging in my nose before tears the sense of expansion in my chest when I listen and know who we are to each other and ourselves. Some music can make you feel so right at ease with whatever happens now, here, that it hurts when it stops demanding a continuation into the margins of life where all change happens. |
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The dog
The dog stretched her long black body out into the day. No expectations, ready to enjoy whatever would come her way. Food would be a good thing to start with. And then a long walk - the beach maybe? That little brown dachshund was there most days, he was great to play with. There really was much to commend this life, she thought. She was glad she'd come back as her own dog.
Mass in C minor
The music soars tonight
in all its Lutheran precision;
mathematical variations of life
full of the things that make you
look up to the sky and sigh and
feel the sea inside.
A higher being may be what Bach
felt when he wrote this, but
without one his work works too
making me feel connected and whole
and right despite whatever crisis
hits the world, despite life
as it is, despite
everything.
in all its Lutheran precision;
mathematical variations of life
full of the things that make you
look up to the sky and sigh and
feel the sea inside.
A higher being may be what Bach
felt when he wrote this, but
without one his work works too
making me feel connected and whole
and right despite whatever crisis
hits the world, despite life
as it is, despite
everything.
Unwritten poems
So many thoughts are never thought
beyond a fleeting notion; scores of feelings
left without a shape.
There is an ocean of untouched ideas
which float and drift wherever
fate or fancy takes them.
Dark blue and filled with sadness
or with a tingling core, a feathery edge.
Never solidified in words, some hold
the possibility to be carried by a current
to the surface and articulate their sense.
But most sink without fanfare to the bottom
of my mind until I know what I will say.
beyond a fleeting notion; scores of feelings
left without a shape.
There is an ocean of untouched ideas
which float and drift wherever
fate or fancy takes them.
Dark blue and filled with sadness
or with a tingling core, a feathery edge.
Never solidified in words, some hold
the possibility to be carried by a current
to the surface and articulate their sense.
But most sink without fanfare to the bottom
of my mind until I know what I will say.
Dare
It had to happen
at some stage
I was going to
assert myself and
someone
would be shocked
or angry. Go fuck yourself
is not calm or subtle
but straight
from the hurt and
anger at self-satisfied
interference. So much
easier to stand up
for someone you love
than be sad in silence,
like all the times I was
upset for me. And
like then only avoidance
of connection
as if nothing happened.
at some stage
I was going to
assert myself and
someone
would be shocked
or angry. Go fuck yourself
is not calm or subtle
but straight
from the hurt and
anger at self-satisfied
interference. So much
easier to stand up
for someone you love
than be sad in silence,
like all the times I was
upset for me. And
like then only avoidance
of connection
as if nothing happened.
'The Bus'
I wonder how to think in this new space
we have created of conversation without aim
but stringing sentences together, using thoughts
like beads on hippie necklaces. Five passengers,
no driver and all of us in charge. When you say
Star Trek is your favourite I feel ideas light up
with unbound energy.
This bus is on a journey of diversions,
our luggage lies forgotten while we’re laughing
until I trip over the bit under my seat.
We’re going neither here nor there
but feel this heightened sense of possibility
when following then swiftly overtaking
our reflections flirting linking wisdom
and experience with whimsy.
You ask how do we actually get off?
Not that I want to yet but this much
harmony needs disruption
to suit my soul.
we have created of conversation without aim
but stringing sentences together, using thoughts
like beads on hippie necklaces. Five passengers,
no driver and all of us in charge. When you say
Star Trek is your favourite I feel ideas light up
with unbound energy.
This bus is on a journey of diversions,
our luggage lies forgotten while we’re laughing
until I trip over the bit under my seat.
We’re going neither here nor there
but feel this heightened sense of possibility
when following then swiftly overtaking
our reflections flirting linking wisdom
and experience with whimsy.
You ask how do we actually get off?
Not that I want to yet but this much
harmony needs disruption
to suit my soul.
Sleepless
I move my thoughts around
like furniture
to the edges of my head
as if preparing for a party
where many are expected
and dancing may occur.
The empty space is filling up
with other chairs a rug maybe
certainly with people who I ask
to tell their story again
and again.
But thoughts have a way
of moving to where they may belong
but are not wanted. Who decides
what happens in my head
when sleep doesn’t?
like furniture
to the edges of my head
as if preparing for a party
where many are expected
and dancing may occur.
The empty space is filling up
with other chairs a rug maybe
certainly with people who I ask
to tell their story again
and again.
But thoughts have a way
of moving to where they may belong
but are not wanted. Who decides
what happens in my head
when sleep doesn’t?
Old dog
The old dog growls in the corner
lifts her head distractedly and lets a wandering eye
almost fall on me.
Lingering close I can just turn my back and
let this spell of sadness pass.
I hope that humming softly will distract.
I slink out of sight, pretending nonchalance, never
did I so deftly move under my breath
towards the lighter rooms, keeping the beast
securely wished away.
Upstairs the sun and moon are playing
a duet through opposite windows.
lifts her head distractedly and lets a wandering eye
almost fall on me.
Lingering close I can just turn my back and
let this spell of sadness pass.
I hope that humming softly will distract.
I slink out of sight, pretending nonchalance, never
did I so deftly move under my breath
towards the lighter rooms, keeping the beast
securely wished away.
Upstairs the sun and moon are playing
a duet through opposite windows.
Life
after Sybille Bedford
I wish sometimes that rain
would wash away the rehearsals;
to start again, undo the versions
where I thought
the curtain wasn't up.
This being the only performance
of life I'd better pay attention.
Translate the wonderment into something
to share.
would wash away the rehearsals;
to start again, undo the versions
where I thought
the curtain wasn't up.
This being the only performance
of life I'd better pay attention.
Translate the wonderment into something
to share.
Love circles
Love seems to look like circles, two mostly,
connecting one tentative boundary with the other or
overlapping to varying degrees.
What does this say about us?
sometimes quite apart but together, noisily
cranky even, like two magnets pushing each other
away in the same space.
Do they move these circles, a slow rotation
maybe more randomly, like pin-balls
Anatomical references abound - breasts, bums, balls.
Something smooth I suppose, eternal and contained
even though love is spiky and hard at times
What if we were to make a hole in the whole
and let reality into the self-regarding circle?
connecting one tentative boundary with the other or
overlapping to varying degrees.
What does this say about us?
sometimes quite apart but together, noisily
cranky even, like two magnets pushing each other
away in the same space.
Do they move these circles, a slow rotation
maybe more randomly, like pin-balls
Anatomical references abound - breasts, bums, balls.
Something smooth I suppose, eternal and contained
even though love is spiky and hard at times
What if we were to make a hole in the whole
and let reality into the self-regarding circle?
At night
Some days I wake up
in the middle of the night
and before I know it
my head is invaded by thoughts
of the worst that can happen.
Repetitive shreds, fractions reflecting
themselves, resistant to replacement
by counting stars and animals.
I turn on the light to enlist a book
in the chase of dark thoughts,
or pen and paper to write this
now that we know
screens only trick us into day.
in the middle of the night
and before I know it
my head is invaded by thoughts
of the worst that can happen.
Repetitive shreds, fractions reflecting
themselves, resistant to replacement
by counting stars and animals.
I turn on the light to enlist a book
in the chase of dark thoughts,
or pen and paper to write this
now that we know
screens only trick us into day.
Sunday
Chamber music streams through
coffee and cake with family
when will we do something?
Rain disturbs the summer sense
of possibility and light
Time for aimless
newspaper, Tour de France, museum?
A call per tablet with the Dutch
a poor connection, they seem
tired and not inclined to inquire
after anything not affecting them.
Two seas reflecting
distance felt.
Dinner brings full circle this
day of rest.
coffee and cake with family
when will we do something?
Rain disturbs the summer sense
of possibility and light
Time for aimless
newspaper, Tour de France, museum?
A call per tablet with the Dutch
a poor connection, they seem
tired and not inclined to inquire
after anything not affecting them.
Two seas reflecting
distance felt.
Dinner brings full circle this
day of rest.
Lough Derg
Dinner was an animated affair,
four women disagreeing about the merits
of Lough Derg. Just one of us had made the journey
years ago - expressing interest in returning
for barefoot distance from connections and
work demands. Reliance on
individual stamina and insights
hunger for fast-induced enlightenment.
Two of us more than skeptical about it all
while I found myself drawn to experience
it for myself. Loud wonderment and
my own lack of explanation fueled conversation.
Incredulous as atheist what asthetic attraction -
even though shoes won't hinder the experience
surely. I suspect alcohol encouraged fervour, but
even now I would like to try.
four women disagreeing about the merits
of Lough Derg. Just one of us had made the journey
years ago - expressing interest in returning
for barefoot distance from connections and
work demands. Reliance on
individual stamina and insights
hunger for fast-induced enlightenment.
Two of us more than skeptical about it all
while I found myself drawn to experience
it for myself. Loud wonderment and
my own lack of explanation fueled conversation.
Incredulous as atheist what asthetic attraction -
even though shoes won't hinder the experience
surely. I suspect alcohol encouraged fervour, but
even now I would like to try.
Water
Love is like water
necessary and constantly
changing, flowing
full and fast some days
exciting senses
or wonderfully slow
like being together
for many years and still
wanting more
love is like that
transparent while hiding
depths close
and personal.
necessary and constantly
changing, flowing
full and fast some days
exciting senses
or wonderfully slow
like being together
for many years and still
wanting more
love is like that
transparent while hiding
depths close
and personal.
Jeu de Sanary
Sanary sparkles with mediterranean warmth ,
yellow dappling and salty smells; sensory
overload delights.
Sipping my coffee in La Marine I watch
as an old lady with that peculiar French accessory,
the tiny dog appears.
She hesitates and tilts her head while looking
at the blown-up photographs on the boulevard
a smile curls around her lips -
a short-skirted girl releases her boule flanked
by a row of staring men, arms crossed -
has she remembered?
yellow dappling and salty smells; sensory
overload delights.
Sipping my coffee in La Marine I watch
as an old lady with that peculiar French accessory,
the tiny dog appears.
She hesitates and tilts her head while looking
at the blown-up photographs on the boulevard
a smile curls around her lips -
a short-skirted girl releases her boule flanked
by a row of staring men, arms crossed -
has she remembered?