Voting?

Image result for eu referendum

The convinced, the ignorant,

The ill-informed;

Changers, chancers,

Rumour arrangers,

Doubters, floaters, shouters,

 The fearful,

The hopeful,

The cheerful.

The fools, the followers,

The fallers and the faithful.

Those looking for the door,

Those dropping anchors.

The swervers, switchers and

The circus roundabouters,

Big picture, long-runners,

The loyal and the lost.

Draw your breath,

Make the mark:

The future all begins

-Again –

Today!

Hold the Future Closer.

Before colours could bleed their

Confidence-trick confusions

Into the new day

The wandering hidden people danced;

Danced to celebrate reaching

Season-border clapper bridge.

Dressed in sliver and grey motley they

Wove loose-limbed,

Long-step patterns around

Rippling pyres of tall, blue pale flames.

The world around lay fierce-choke quiet,

Holding a night-long breath:

Yet I felt the music:

Echo-ghost voices of deep-jet whales,

Ice-heart sibilant percussives,

Vibrations of undiscovered stars,

Chorus winds of dragon-banner conflict.

They shunned me not,

Showed gentle respect and,

Though I know I will not meet them again,

I no longer neither doubt not fear

Their presence here,

For they belong as much as we –

And I hold the future closer, tighter now.

21/2/2013

Tell Me …

Tell me:
Do you smell the snow,
The fall that’s yet to come?

And:
Do you sense the bitter spoor
Of the desperate, hunting
Long tooth cat?
The souls of those she seeks?

The graceful ghosts of
Those who’ve past
Walk with your feet,
Share your eyes and
Speak in your gestures:
The time has come.

I am delight-hearted
That we will
Sit the rib-fire,
Together, this evening;
Feel the unsettling, eastern
White-wolf breath
As it passes
To polish the
Proud, precious spirit eyes
Of winter-sky watchers –
Scrubs the dark-witch distances
Dividing them.

Proud to sing
The pasts with you –
And to dance
Our futures.

12/1/2013

Heron

I am heron,

Last of the lonely fisherfolk clan,

Wrestling breath and existence

At December-Edge Lake.

Needs must when

Winter-king rules;

So I will take

Frogs from frozen mud,

Cold-killed cadaver from bog ditch graves,

Maggots from fieldside muck-heap

And warmth from memory cells –

And shun your hypocrite charity.

My hopes and words I store

Between stare-down-the-Devil eyes,

Behind decision sharp weapon bill

Beneath my fog-toned feather cape.

They are mine, not yours,

Seek them not.

I seek no camouflage for

Past, ruthless savagery –

That stranded me here –

Fossil in all but fact –

Pale target for avaricious

Cowardly mobs of

Bright-urchin gulls.

Denying the truth

Destroys the soul

As sure as sin

And damages any future

I may hope to have.

heron2

Who Dares?

My Friday:

Your Wednesday;

But time is harsh,

Allows no detours.

In the window,

His blue shirt

Dotted with rain

Is a familiar man:

Is it someone I know,

Someone I have yet to meet?

I am distracted by

The victory songs

Of impossible imps:

Echoes of history’s

Moon drums and flash

Fingers of thunder.

The past has a future.

Who dares deny it?

Only the desperate and

The truly dangerous.

 

(Inspired by Who I Am: the autobiography of Pete Townsend, Diwali and the Walsall v Lincoln City F.A. Cup replay))

15/11/2012