From the archive: Extract from “The Words in Me” Published 20 years or so ago
Odds and Ends
1
Bites of philosophy
Flakes of meaning
Preserve them
For midwinter
Treats for the psyche
Bon-bons for the soul
2
Along the way
I sometimes stay
At your house
And I’m glad
Thanks
3
A wave, a smile.
a little twinkle in an eye,
remind me –
I’m alive.
4
the emperor’s new poem
isn’t it fab
isn’t it bad
isn’t it sad
isn’t it mad
isn’t it glad
no it isn’t
5
Feardops seep in
late at night
when the world is cold
and I am old
tumbling towards eternity.
Before it gets too dark
when the world is bleak
and I am weak.
But then, you smile,
and all is well,
for a while.
6
I can only tell you what I know
for certain, that’s not much.
Just that awareness lingering there,
sensitive to your touch.
7
An age where you could be young or you could be old,
or you could be something in between.
A phase of light illuminates,
the bleak rich second of the scene.
Here’s a man I used to know pushing a trolley
filled with grandchildren.
Over there’s an older friend,
starting a new relationship.
8
a thought given freedom
for you to interpret as freely as you please
makes sense to the hundred million monkeys with their olivettis
9
All the sadness in the world started there,
In my green heart.
When I looked on you
For the first time.
That’s when I spoke your name
And shuddered with joy.
That’s when it all began,
And when it ended.
10
Note to a trainee slaughterperson:
Before you kill a lamb:
You must perform this quick simple check.
1: Stick your fingers in its mouth.
2: Yank.
3: Examine the condition of its baby teeth.
4: Check its age against the diagram.
5: If in doubt, call your supervisor.
11
Early morning gaps
In the fabric of a life
Divine inconsistencies
Add meaning
12
I’m not a fucking farmer, right
I’m not a fucking choirboy either, obviously
I’m Welsh, but I’m not fucking stupid
I was brought up on a council estate but
I’m not a bastard or a fucking criminal
13
Too many poets
too many fucking poets
too many poets, fucking
with my mind
14
Sunlight
glinted on the water
and I drank it
15
The wind is nothing
a shift of air
and water is elemental
and filled with dolphins
16
Canna a man have too many boids?
Little boids canna sing
Little goils canna pee
Standing up.
17
Poetry in Pencil?
It’ll last long enough
to prove its worth.
Fading or evolving
into something more permanent.
18
Too many summers have gone
Too many winters have come
Remember this when you dance in the rain
19
We are One
wool snags on a wire
shakes
in the wind
light glints on a raindrop
drips
to the stream
20
You are there
and I am here.
But it’s different from your perspective.
21
They are one-offs
ad-hoc gifts
letters
l e t t e r s
unique collections
meant to fragment
leaving a sweet note
22
Last night’s potatoes
boiled too quickly
went to mush
and spread
like a bloom of summer’s shadow
23
Clever things
cry at night
remembering
a future
the only fruit
a deep orange candle
shaped like a ball
24
A vibrant orange
hazy with heat shadows
the green richer somehow
crystal water
clear drops
shaking with glee
it’s a calendula
25
ife’s too short
to write a fucking poem
26
Stainless steel ashtray
Sun glinting bright through the ash
Cigarette burns out
27
Leaves falling quickly
Turning brown in the weak sun
Blown into fat piles
28
The real meaning of Christmas
In the night
when day is at its most distant
the lights of green and red and white
29
Before bird bites
Spider slows
Tasting air
30
in the nettles
fallen apples
slug-eaten
31
wind in trees
steps in gravel
path home
32
Leaf on mud
Sun on face
Absorbed
33
Small cars carry important people
Large cars are mostly empty
because people are all the same size
approximately
34
I thought it was green
most biros are not – of course
but it was blue
It was only a
trick-of-the-light.