The search for my body
Continues.
Can ritual give it shape
Once more. A walking.
poetry
Day 10. Camino
Thoughts fill the hours
Thoughts that must be
Priced, packaged, sent
And at the end I return
To the walk, moving from
Work back towards my own
Thoughts.
Day 9. Camino
‘When you master something,
you have to run away and do
something else.’ Unknown
‘If an ideas new to you, then it’s
new. As artists we are creating our world,
our way.’ David Lynch
‘It’s an important experience to look back before moving on to something else’. Harry Nuriev.
Day 8. Camino
Be bold, bold day
The tube poles are yellow
Like the arrows of the road
Is that acceptable as a sign?
That this is my route? My
Eyes are closing, a week of
Walking, the wonder is glazing
Wink wink, walk walk, the
March for meaning.
Day 5. Camino
Little women in fleeces polishing things
And in a rush for Easter, the busiest day, the pressure to raise the right sum.
Tapped my card to the screen
By Saint Margaret’s shrine , ten pounds
Like a miracle from me to her.
Day 4. Camino
Larger, harder times, cathedrals,
Mall-like in their entirety, monopoly on
Human life and thought with death
Built in, to wall and floor and roof.
Little faces everywhere of animal and
Angel, daring us to sin.
Day 3. Camino
Holy Odda’s day
The chapel hidden through
Centuries of wet and blood
Stones standing thick and
Bold as yews defiant of the
Floods and deaths grown into
Their roots. What Odda was,
At the edge of the darkness,
The first houses for god
He built in the darkness of faith,
So little have we learned from
The light it gave, is it fading?
Day 2. Camino
Today was better,
These rules came to me,
In a different order, longer
Originally, but I carved
Them down, to be
Universal, like Moses,
On the Met line to Watford,
Clear now, about how
Miracles occur.
In search of lost time
I’m sitting on Bute street
In my head the French bookshop
And French bakery Bonne Bouche
Are still here, smelling of books and
Bread, livres et pain
I’m still sitting on Bute street
I open my eyes, I can smell Mama
Pho and it doesn’t go with my
£pp3.50 flat white
I’m looking at a shop called Blanc
With towels and a sign ‘Fashion doesnt
Have to Cost the Earth’ instead of
Books in French
Now I know how old women feel
The ones who talked about the
Old days as if they were better
Now they’re gone
I will not come here again to
Look for the past, I will not
Find it, I will go somewhere
Else to remember.
Ageing
You avoid the sun
Etching lines on
Your skin. You are
The artist, not the sun.
Being Every Day 