too much blood in him

those tongues torturing truths

ever seek the serpentine

eavesdropping ears

to propagate and to enfoul

***

eager seekers of dominion

search out a collar

with which to bind him

and enslave

***

abroad

they doth now look

***

to find a lever to apply

when shall the three, we three

meet again

and exert

***

and in their febrile cauldron

ingredients they mix

to alchemize a plan

most highly justified

***

oh, the imagined cunning

that precocious understanding

strange deeds afoot

nearly there

***

milord the case

it is clear

the asylum seeker shall

a straight-jacket be granted

***

lock him away

exile him

be rid

ne’er to darken doors again

***

we milord

are august

and totally right

and thoroughly justified.

***

and the seer sighed

for naught have they learned

IQ high

wisdom low

***

same shit

different day

April “Haiku”

with full Sakurai

my fresh carbon footprints

on a sparkle diamond dew!

***

the heavenly scent

freshly cut grass

invigorates nascent dawn

***

air traffic control

stacks the birds high

a sunflower breakfast

***

the pressure of leaves

waiting for birth

an incoming tide of green

***

tiny blue flowers

assemble on mass

one radiant carpet together

***

the orchard rejoices

the pendant spring

with its garlands of blossom

back to life

a subtle hint of pink

a yellow daffodil wink

buds are pressing out

 

the promise of a surge

that flourish, that urge

the springs elastic return

 

a promise and an oath

fulfilled again

 

the bulbs light up the bed

brighter than any electric led

 

the tide hibernal ebbs away

and a first flow of new begins

smell it fresh in the air

 

soon the green canvas

will be spattered with colour

no more monochrome

 

the wagtails are strutting

all Saturday Night Fever

and Staying Alive

 

the wood pigeons coo

sweet nothings into

their loved-up ears

 

next the thirsty swallows

will dive bomb the pond

to quench on the wing

 

Mr Electric Blue

the virulent kingfisher

already whizzing around

 

coming back to life

with a stretch

and a yawn

Nearly Spring “Haiku”

virulent yellow

daffodils headbanging

to heavy metal winds

 

three ducks on the pond

back from holiday

will there be eggs?

 

yellow irises

stretch after their sleep

a sonorous yawn

 

Maggie the magnolia

dresses luxuriant

with silken buds

 

impatient roses

racing for the sun

new vibrant growth

 

Camelia, Azalea

and Rhododendron

the coming trinity

 

dotted about

the dainty daisies

end the pralaya

 

randy toads

doing breaststroke

fresh strings of pearls

Le Pendu

 

here doing a jig

inside my Ikea closet

I can dance my Sirtaki

my individual Hopak

 

no-one knows I am

redacted, erased

for all eternity

just hanging around

 

I can shake my rattle

jingle my bones

play with my sockets

click all my joints

 

this my ossuary

my living tomb

my self created

flat pack womb

 

spider web secreted

in dank dusty caverns

under the carpet

swept out of sight

 

my stainless steel

is shiny and hip

it will not rust

in that I can trust

 

what bold explorer

might stumble on

with his LED light

to give me a fright?

 

one day

maybe

self-diagnosed omniscience

Over the years I have been fortunate enough to meet a number of people with very high opinions of the extent of their own knowledge and intellect.  This is an ode to them.


the persistent insistence

on being right

with self-diagnosed omniscience

so very entitled

 

me, my, mine

only me, only I

know all the answers why

 

the blindfolded ears

refuse to hear

anything or anyone else

 

my cosmic intellect

encompasses all knowledge

all wisdom

there is or can ever be

 

it says so on my door

the font eternal

whence all clever things

issue

 

I know best

better than you

oh, yes, I do!

Shopping ‘21

Watchful eyes

Darting fear

And there

 

The two-metre dance

Down the cereal aisle

And by the coffee

 

A latex glove

Picks up an orange

And puts it back

 

Keep an eye

On that one

Don’t touch it!

 

More on the tills

Quicker queues

Then cold vodka hands

 

Some have swollen

Too many

Boredom biscuits

 

Outside

Drowned in a puddle

A blue mask

We could not save

Incomplete

That unfinished

Seeming no end

Those unspoken

Which we never send

 

For want of courage

With fear of risk

Remains undone

Ever on that list

 

Never vanishes

Always just there

Out of sight

Beyond compare

 

Faintly haunting

An itchy burr

Mostly ignored

The mind can whirr

 

Let’s procrastinate

For another year

It is not urgent

I’ll keep my fear

Awkward

at the edge of perception

an unresolved fragment

a pendant puzzle

 

that vital reputation

questioned by a thread

an unravelled cotton

 

that sore thumb

locked in a cupboard

on a different shore

 

no pandora peeking

else might fly

an s candle flame

 

to openly acknowledge

and stop the pretence

a precipice, a ridge

 

the subcutaneous burr

for want of a scratch

to get those answers

 

a pendant puzzle

albatross necklace

a karmic burden

 

awkward