Skimmering with Neurons

These words are what come to mind
Crazy to another
Every thought sparks and dies
Every one’s a lover
Climaxing in my head

Sometimes I want to let them go
Sleep on an airbed on the snow
Sniff tulips, then get wed
Feel not think, do not drink, wink not slink
Lick my lips and yours
Crawl on all fours

Climb a tree, bee be b, ski,
Flee

That’s good, run naked at the pole
Like Connelly, or read the poetry of Aung San Suu Kyi
She must have written some
That’s the kind of thing my heroes do

13th May ‘09

Jewel of the Lisu


Mostly smoking let the cards fall
‘Now is the needy time’
Only self-love
The haze hugs me in place of old
Caress me with song
Hands and hair of old
Breast, teeth and tongue
Mature saliva soaked in carcinogenic fumes
L & M and rum

The butts have fallen to the paving below the tree
Glasses circle the bottle on the floor
We hold the flesh of each other
Smooth skin but hers is smoother
She likes my hairy stomach
I like her pert breasts and cheeky laugh
The Italian told me he’d hurt me
If I did her wrong
But I was the younger, fitter

We joked about children
If we meet again I hope we hug
I’d take her tongue in mine to toss and turn, mingle
The wine of her mouth is good
She’s a jewel of the Lisu people
For two weeks she kept her body
Though we lay naked together and touched flesh




11th March ‘09

Walk with Ollie


A walk around with Ollie in the dawning light
Crisp cracks beneath my deeply treaded trainers
Orange ridges in white frost
Wisps of cloud on a postcard morning
Dominated by the fading stars
The yodel of the moon’s mind
If only it could speak to tell its joys

The calmness and enveloping warmth of the frost-bitten air
That hangs and says beware
That tingle on your cheek
The stiffness in your digit joints
No prestidigitation in these fields upon the hill

Ollie doesn’t yelp or sing
I, his master, for this hour
Whistle pathetically yet skilfully
Keeping the dimples on the moon
And the chuckle pushing through Santa’s lips
It pops out but he tries to gulp it down
Morning hasn’t come yet

It’s all so quiet and heaven is in my heart
Baked potatoes spill margarine from the lip of consciousness
My tongue pokes out to lick it
Mum hugs me, Dad passes me the football and I score
Someone says ‘well done’

Coming back, the lush white prickly grass
No longer cushions me and I hit the hard pavement
Take Ollie’s liberty once more
To keep him from the bright-eyed beasts

God, Love, Mince Pies
All jumble up in my tumble dryer brain
Back in the kitchen, “That was a nice walk”
The dog looks bemused… but agrees





14th February ‘09

Cappuccino Massimo


Gosh, it’s hard
Easing my way through Cappuccino Massimo
Double handled
Kerouac’s gloom mingling and dancing with mine
Swirls on the eyes from the written word
Outside’s cold
I’m lonely
My sick body may not want the booze medicine



5th December ‘08

Just Thinking

The pain carves at my heart, my rhythm
But I can make it alone
Make it as far as I want to go
Really I want to live till ninety-six
Have children and grandkids
Have their respect
To sit and rest my head against the pillow of my palm
And ignorance
To die humbly and with love


9th April ‘08