The Horse and the Cat

Where are you bound cat?
Asked a horse in dulcet tones
Why ask you?
Are you interested in my goings
or comings?
The cat replied.
You, puss,
the horse whinnied.
are too impertinent for my liking!
You – dear horse – are too ignorant for a horse.

This said, the cat rubbed it’s body about the great calves of the equine!
And you, generous feline, are too
bold for a creature of your minority.
Shall we walk?
The cat moved off,
the horse followed.

What a glorious day!
Remarked the cat as they wandered
out to rolling landscapes.
I agree.
Was the horses only exclamation.
Now shall we not continue?
The cat seemed restless.
No; you are correct!

A cloud enveloped them
and the horse,
(in its giant monstrosity)
and the cat,
(in its sly minority)
became one.

The mighty sun beat down on vacant stables
Through the dark our moon glowed on nights effluent stream.

2017: January Pre-Mourning

The night before the work starts
Our streets echo with lone travellers
This night of cold clear dread
As the new year shakes free
Of it’s champagne and fireworks
A mighty muted still
Fills up the dark

And in the raging dreams
Of all these people in their beds
Uncertain and alone in today’s cold sleep
Questions of fragility
Feed our hunger for dread
Spoiling this last bedtime
With what tomorrow brings

Outside in some dark corner
Of a Southern London home
I ponder how few deaths make many mourn
The slaps of conflict beat
Fresh tears from more bored eyes
Yet each hour too much life
Is bled and crushed in horror

For one more year has come on us
And forseers contort with doom
Such angry rhetoric, such mounting gloom
Yet this new year is not foretold
And harbours chances new
There’s not time to conjure lies
Just time to start the world.

The end of the world news, Ankakay via Flickr

The end of the world news, Ankakay via Flickr

4:20

A return to attempting to find my poetic voice. We have come to the end of a string of Beck’ Beat Poetry events, which have been a series of fantastical occasions! Enabling me and others to meet and hear top-class poets from across south London (and Hackney)!

Here is the 420

 

National Poetry Day UK 6/10/16

2601

No more words about dreams
Please
I’ll erase those words once written
Please just write of things
Dear Hart
And leave your dreams to actions!

No more lies
Or what-ifs?
Or whys’
Pen only odes to stuff!

Quit procrastinations
Of each elevation
And do
what you
truly think is enough.

In Dreams I Am Healthy And Wealthy

The Nightmare, J Henry Fuseli (Wikipedia Source)

The Nightmare, J Henry Fuseli (Wikipedia Source)

So dreams come each night differently –
Last night there was a foreign tramp eating our swans
We fought – I couldn’t find my voice
In dreams I often don’t

One night I may be lost in an enormous house
Or fleeing an ominous villain
At night these thoughts invade my head
Escape my bed
Fill up the dead of sleep

Sometime ago I dreamt of flying
Skimming treetops down steep slopes
A quick paced spring and over again
A divine dream of falling down

This is the trick of these night flicks
Filling my brain with illusion
Each day I awake
Into a lovely right life
And take a tick to bring peace to confusion

But even these dreams
As glorious as stars
Never leave me wishing
They were how things are
Even though in my dreams I am healthy and wealthy
I’m richest with my Malika

Dark Is Night

But,
Come the still of morning
there is light.

Dark is night
and,
here the mind is made
of trickery to fright.

Dark is night.
To this
Claim all dark battles
You should fight.

Dark is night
AYE!
In darker dreams
An inner peace can soar in flight.

Sleep Attainable

It’s midnight already again!
The lure of dreamy sleep
drives these closing eyes
yet evades my grasp…

As images of tiredness
freak light on my eyeballs:
Break pools of shadow
and render my sight, at best – sketchy!

The buzz of daytime
and noise of thoughts
serve well to shake ideas of slumber
from my over-tired mind…

Off The Page

Rivers of rooftops flow
Drowning out windows
with clouds from below.
Down where the noise and malevolence grow!

Whilst daily you claw at your dreams:
taking apart
every thought you believe.

I keep seeing your face –
hearing your succulent tongue lick your breath –
as anonymous people take place.
Stealing a memory
of what your love left.

Sweet short

Here she sits a lady truly blue
Sweet heart lays in her lap for you
She whispers some sweet treat in time
And blurs the lines of your afternoon

Like something is wrong
In the tune in her song
Like something has left
She has sung it so long

She’s your silent Dido – carved of stone
Living in a life you dreamed was blown
As shadows stretch and rise and die
Your night lights with her white-rose tone

[revisited from Dec 2012]

There’s My Way…

Full of tea yet low on greed
How much you query the green!

All of the money and honey you stash.
Why do you need to have all of that cash?

Here I rot topped up with pot
And dysfunctioning? Me got not!

As round this life you scream in fits
Killing time and joy – losing love in bits.

Burning up days with rants and quarrel
Smashing dreams down, leaving the rubble?

How do you righteous become so bloated
When out in this liberty, I grin easy and float on.

Theres my way

Er…

Down the long way

Slow delight,
accompanies the blissful trite –
expressionless bile –
as is presented.

Along the way
the slag of a light known as day
(though it’s furthest away
from his mind)
is spent
lazily, calling for soulless penitence
from a murkier past:
Not uncommon.

The municipal pit
where all thoughts and feelings enter
is full, brimming
with nameless creations!
No claimers and nobody looks for,
or asks for, their namers –
remaining silent
till they’re called from the nights.

And brush a thought free

Warmly in embrace you lie
brushing ears with slumbers sigh
caressing
flesh pressed close in dreams
In night breeze
where no light breaks
Your glued tight eyes flicker
dance
breast heaves
lips mouth silent ethereal chat

 

[reposted, from 2011]

Just before the end of night

Got to sleep I so tired – got to
close my sleepy eyes try to shut
down rest now lay down get some
night right on my side

Every heavy blink I fight seconds
eat away this night fighting
morning time from bright light
sleepy eyes!

What to do

Write like a madman,
Write for the thrill
Capture your basemost thoughts and then think them deeper.
Scribble the pictures
For the sightless to see
Bring on the rapture, conjure the melee.

In rivers of lines
In puddles of rhyme
Seducing saturated minds
Time after time

This melody vital to motion itself
Exposing the night time
and serfdom
and spells

This is what to do to write…

Tribute

The sky she sits on
I cannot reach
I climb as high as I am able
She catches my eye and restarts her tease!

Message From Moon To June [31-11-2101]

Heras sunset

Bip. Bip. Bip.
»Connecting Call»
»You have 1 new message.
Received 18:10 from Lunaropolis»
»June, I can see so clear
from here.
At dawn the sun, white as pearl,
peeled back my eyelids…
I floated to the portal
and smiled on beautiful blue home –
you all look so sweet and content
from ½ a million miles away.
I see there were storms over Africa yesterday
hope they don’t reach you.

Anyhow June
I’ve landed a job:
Grinding down the rock on the floor
of our new hotel.
Shines up a treat,
can’t wait for you to reflect in it.
The food gets better everyday
and tomorrow a new plant adds to our oxygen.
Must be good…

Sorry to catch you out,
just wondering when you’re next off?
E-me your rota – I think May’s good?
So, I’m off for some basketball tonight
(amazing game in low grav.).
C U L8R.
Dave. »
Bip. Bip. Bip
»To repeat message please press 1.
To delete press 7.
To reply press 9, pinch your nose
and speak slowly after the tone»

Tarpaulin

This is midnight calling
Come in sleeper number four
Hello this is midnight calling
They’re waiting at your door

Sleeper four your time is up
They’re ready with your dreams
These people get paid by the hour
And you’re wasting precious bleems

Now sleeper that is quite enough
You’ve had your time awake
Turn in now please or be prepared
To lose your dreaming space

Well thank you now you’re seeing sense
You’re dropping off at last
Your time is pretty wasted though
So do your dreaming fast

*

Wake up! Get up! That’s it time’s up
Come on your time has gone
Stop moaning and get up you bum
You heard – your dreams’ now flown

This is midnight calling
Come in sleepers five and six
Hello this is midnight calling
Now’s time for your dream fix

Better Than Dreams

Would you break my line of thought
when you thought it’s time,
or wake my dreaming head before
I’ve dragged you down to mine?

For as we slide in night, so still –
where all the sound’s self made –
there’s time to glide in time,
and time to take
and find where we are laid.

What’s that? A moon, so mean
and lean with light,
bestows on us yet some cool beam…
Fairly split twixt space
and that which lights up nightly
on your face!

Would you wake me from such dreams!
Would that, you wear such felicity:
These startled eyes would rest glad on you
rather than their dreamy fantasy.

Eastern Shores

On these eastern shores so dark and late at night
cold waves break over stones and wash them clean
Beneath the fat moon floating proud above the belching surf
A sinking ship of broken dreams slips quiet from the scene

Shortly as sun cracks its fiery whip on the day
and bathes this stony silence in sweet blue
Straggling at the waters edge the shadows of last night
worn and tired and wet this sunken crew.

Lowestoft Beach January 2015