Election

Your teachings have made you calm,
Whenever we talk of politics
You talk of dead animals.
How the oracles split frogs
To wheedle out bad news
And watched the olive sky for birds
To forecast the crop yields
And the warring of islands.

That night the talking persisted
Across the extended networks,
Heavy lidded men heaving
Their solemn heads till dawn,
When, finally we slept,
The television still blaring
The winds of change
Sticking tired looks to our faces.

The following morning
Who knew what it all meant?
When walking out at noon
The glistening road
In the horrendous sun
Became an operating table
Of obsolete animals,
Their most intimate entrails
Ugly truths still to come.

 

Spring Poem

The decapitated mouse head
He left beneath your chair
Signalled the arrival of spring.
Each night he slipped out
Into the balmy red air
Catching the scent of the day
In his skin.
We lay on top of sheets
Expectant and listening
To the sound of new born lambs
Mewing distant in the night.
While the cat,
At the last of his nine lives,
Is loose in the neighbourhood,
Eager with experience,
Tail up, swinging back to us,
With death in his mouth.

 

 

Observing One Who Prays

You kneel at  the bed,
With pursed lips,
Like a child listening
At the edge of woods.

You mistake the wind
For the sound of spirits.
You see your prayer
Descending peaks

Through storms and rain
And endless oceans.
Your faith is still intact,
Patient as a widow,

Who burns the candle
On the nights shore,
Awaiting news
From the world’s end.

 

 

Van Gogh In Auvers-sur-Oise

The silhouetted figure
Moved towards them,
God like, the sower
Stepping from the sun.

His queer frame
Stranger than usual,
A knotted posture
As if twisted from wheat.

His hands buried deep
In his working jacket,
Where the breast
Clotted with blood.

His expression stayed curious,
One ear still to the wind,
Like a dog ready for flight,
A walking open wound.

 

Defense Of The Drunken Poet

Late in June we went out
To gaze at the moon on the water.
I told the story of Li Po,
Who died, it's supposed,
Leaning from his boat
Trying to embrace it's silver glow.

How foolish, you said,
With world famous
Female disgust for folly,
Seeing only the great life
Eclipsed by drunken idleness.

I stayed silent in the moon light.
What was better? I thought.
Men die for much less
And waste whole lives dangling
At the foot of other men's plans,
Intoxicated by delusions
That far exceed
Small wobbling moons as this.

We traipsed back to the car
In a silence ruined by the rude
Rasps of bullfrogs.
I pictured Li Po there amongst the rushes;
Asleep a thousand years
Whilst the hounds pass.

 

Hope Bouquet

 

I dreamt of an exchange

Of flowers,

I woke to sunlight and bird song

They were scattered

Across the four wires

Like notes on a perfect musical score.

Mornings like this

You go out and buy a new shoes,

Find employment,

And ask a women to marry you.

Be careful crossing the road,

It's only bird song

That's put you this way.

 

 

Comparing Mythologies

The Chinese girl
Always fell asleep if she drank beer.
So in the afternoon we sat
In the cafe beside her campus,
Talking over coffee.

The door kept blowing open
With a parade of red face students,
Thin and screwed up from the cold.

We discussed our parents,
Our respective states,
Our histories and mythology.

What was difficult for her
Was not the miracles or the plagues
Or even the water turning into wine
But the fantastical idea that one man
Would throw it all in for the sake of this world.
Harder to picture, she said,
Than four armed gods or elephant heads.

I didn't know, I'd say
And the waiter would bring over more coffee
Before we'd finish the last.

Outside emaciated looking men
Clutched their jackets and begged for change,
Staring into pitiless winds.

Good Friday It's hot today. i hold my hand Against the yellow dry stone wall And flicker the crumbling clay Where the bees have been working. I uphold the bent flowers That have sunken under heat And liberally water the geraniums, Doing their best To out shine the sun for me. I befriend the birds with scraps of meat. I cut back the leycsteria. I sacrifice the dying morning glories For the good of the plant. I go about like some tender god Nurturing the short avenue of my world. The sun is shining for me. Soon i will have to think about How best to fix the bees.   Good Friday originally appeared in the August 2006 addition of Nthposition

You're So Beautiful You're so beautiful Some nights when Your not here I recall our times And laugh as though Watching an old television show. Then I climb back into My depression like An old suit of poses Like a man returning to A job he'd long since Abandoned for a Life time of holiday.     You're So Beautiful originally appeared in the August 2006 addition of Nthposition

Prize I took you from bright water Slipping through streetcars Between meetings. Gentle and poised in bright dresses Coiled in warmth on afternoons Where we had nowhere to go. Tussling with the time until You would uncurl Your body from mine And disappear with a quiver Through the gaping door.     Prize originally appeared in the August 2006 addition of Nthposition

From Silence God knocked off the planets Like marbled glass And moved on. Struck with the silence He pounded what was left Poured it into earth And blew away nothingness With man. Still silence roared. He handed him confusion Like apples Replaced arms with tools Ears with voices And gave him time enough To fill the universe With it's own chaos. Man knocked off god Then set about himself.   From Silence originally appeared in the14/12/05 issue of Identity Theory