Again and Again: Why Not?

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… and back again, to the magical mixture of clean, high air, friends (old and new), chemical free beer, home brewed schnapps and to-die-for cakes.

To Linz via a  Germanic-efficient and very dramatic “go-around” (aborted landing) at Frankfurt’s massive hub. Arriving late at the “Blue Danube” airport. Which must have disrupted the lives of people who were collecting me … though you would not know it from their greetings.

Life moves on different wheels here. The pace is human and addictive, relaxing and energising. People are friendly first, ask questions later: no pressure, smiles are big, generosity bigger.

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She Was

Long-legged captain-mistress

Of all my small, dumb thunders,

The rock and the roll,

Posting forbidden, giddy-passions

Into the purpled neon

And smoke passages.

She stoked the flame-blonde fires

Beneath my intensity desires.

Where is she now?

I still remember waking up

At three in the morning,

Smiling at how the earth shook.

12/8/13

Blue Passion’s Clock

In hot-collision darkness

Different manners rule the

Blue-passion’s clock.

Cliffhawk-pirate’s daughter

Has the look of sinful-fire

And warm honey-danger romancer,

Bubble rim and flute-scream dancer.

Who says we can’t be

Snake and heart,

Rock and roll fools

For the night hours –

Bruised lips,

Trembling, burning hips –

And innocent-clean souls

For tomorrow’s changed light ?

 

30/7/2013

 

Way Past Numbers

She’s way past numbers,
He’s given up counting;
Their eyes, their lives
So full of history’s snow
Neither can remember the
Last time they
Enjoyed the silver powder thunder.
She can’t hear what the  one-armed drummer is saying,
He just can’t quite recognise tune the blue guitarist is playing:
Does either of them realise,
Does either of them care any more, that
It’s the doll-devil they’re paying?
Hey-ho, there’s just one letter’s difference
Between the bomb
And the final, sad, slip-away mistake.

11/4/2013