Some humans see blue black
Where others see gold white
Right wrong? No. Realities cohabit
Sight is a trick of the mind
sight
In his tale of two cities Dickens said ‘The day came coldly, like a dead face out of the sky’
What is there to fill this grey day?
Is there someone for whom
It is not grey, is there someone
Who switches on the lights with
Every blink? Is there a place
In this grey city where life flows
Strong and people are enjoying
Their work and loving themselves
And seeing light in every eye even
Though the sun’s switched off?
Looking out on Manhattan from Brooklyn: Thought 1 between Madison and Wonder
Up up upp
Adding more
To spill over
Sight into sound
‘Awws’ and ‘Ewws’
Jazz sigh blues, lovers’
News repeated in the park
In each-other and others’ ears
Close behind the train sound
Chases the river breeze East.
Don’t let pain
Take the pain away
Take it down to the
High ground up ahead
To a place where it
Can breathe and exhale
Out the ache, the
Trapped strain that
Congests the brain and
Turn that clot of blackness,
Redundant coal to prism-like
Beauty like a pyramid,
Newly carved and decked
In adamite to brilliant the
Sun-strong beams that
Radiate sight.
Please take it away, shaft
It through this day to scratch
The surface of the next dawn
With a clean mark that says
Today is new and so are you,
Pain free- falling blissfully in
Light on a sirocco billow
Cushioned as you drop from
Branch to branch and bounce
Around with each new song.
Now it is waning
The pain in the feet
The sweat in the head
The crowd are dispersing
After relentless applause
In the sinus’ crammed stalls.
Making their way through
The limbs, women trailing behind,
Queuing under the Ladies sign
Written in tear duct pink
While the men go full surge
Ahead, keen to be first out,
At the nail-gates cold blue
Iron, into the night to hail
A cab home.
Being Every Day 