The heaviness has
Gone
Whatever made the beach sand pound has
Gone
And is now ebb and flow
In softer
Dapples to the livelier light.
Then the grey torpor
Heaps
Sifted through Day’s warm mesh,it
Sits
On the bottom of the sea waiting
To be ground
Again by Winter’s deepest tide.
Room for me
Room for you
Room for all
Hearth, heart
And space to
Breath, to stretch
To love to
Eat to seed
To sound to
Cry unbound,
To crave, to crash
And reassemble
In the factory that
Makes each
Day new for
Each and every
One.
Today Bart’s hospital
Opened its doors
To my head at 7:30 am
To usher in a new
Gamma Life for me.
My scorched brain
Lives again, disarmed
Nose breathes
Teeth sing
Tongue taps
Its roof with pink.
Tonight my soul will
Shake its head till
Every hair winks
Wildly at the moon.
Thank you dear universe.
Waking up in a world
Of pictures hung
In a line one by
One along the
Four walls you call you.
In
The thick smell of
Happiness or
Thin, bad dream
Aftertaste
Make quick
Connections
Between the
Eyes, charging
Up with Day
After Night’s
Power-save.
Take no direction
From the subconscious,
Lurch into Now,
From one real-life
Object to another:
Cup of water,
Alarm-clock phone,
Hair band;
Landmarks
Passed before the
Shower door is closed.
Get out
And back in
Touch with the
Floor, the feet,
The clothes that
Keep the outside
Out and inside in.
After work,
Take clothes off again,
Peal
Away the feelings
They’ve seived through
And reveal the
Skin they’ve protected
From looks forked with words.
Sink down in the
Soft down that
Grows under
Day,
Diffuse it all
Away and fall
Asleep, let Sun’s
Warm wake fill
All your rooms.
Sitting at this juncture
In the day, reading
Song in my brain
Feeling blood in my
Lips and warmth
In my veins as
Love courses through
Me, not Romance
But Now, alone,
An island, I am
It, here, sitting, at
One, no
Thought of anywhere
But now and here –
The facts that
Combine to make
My Being be –
Sound, sight, hair,
Teeth, Feet,
Me.
On Life stood a long day
Set up coolly
With meditation
And loud water
Gushing through
Fingers into basin
Take me over the hill
A round juice-step
Or two, through
The windows of Time
Up the road past
A church burnt out
And shaken by
Bells louder than
Air pounding the aged drum of
Past.
Kick me, the meat, now
Hanging low and
Ripe, ready to
Fall with my weight
Of blood,
Resound through
Space. The weight
Of me dropping,
Dead round slab
On the cold floor
Of Day in the
Warm blood of
Night.
2 minutes to Say
A day, yes, let’s,
Quick, before it’s
Stopped and the
Flesh collapses
Into sleep.
Say a day somewhere
Far off, not today,
That’s been and
Gone, not worth
Its weight in gold,
So little lost.
Say tomorrow, that
Will be, the healthy
World will wake
Once more, tireless,
Unlike me.
The wheels will spark
And something roll –
A Clown perhaps,
With a pair of sticks,
A ball and a gun.
[7th October]
Tell me Life
Toblerone day
Chunk of bite
Bitten off.
What has stopped
The cool running
Fate and redirected
It somewhat
Askew?
Is it illness, embedded
Or a viral bug
Caught quick,
Nifty urchin,
Off the Tube?
More to wit,
Can I control it,
Make it go
Stop with a loud
BANG!!!!!????
Snuffed.
[7th October]
Yoke heavy
Nostrils singeing
In the Sun,
Glistening with fresh
Snotty sweat,
Black with deep flesh.
Track trodden, soft
And stodgy, bouldered
Thickly, sticky stoned.
Stoic foam it drips
And slips from tongue
To lip and lower,
Down, the rim of hairy
Fur, the hoary jaw,
The bull’s sound-
Piece, it grunts.
Loud it feels that
It could groan but
No, its eyes are down
And grooves
Cut fissures in
The soul as soil
Is churned and
Churned
And churned.
[6th October]
Being Every Day 