Madam the rock touches
Graces our fair city
Fairer by far, a searching
Eye. Nestled in clouds
Hungering of seas
Salience. As earth
Prosteletises the waves.

I ask myself " Who is this?
Who makes the flowers fair
Seem so drab I when compare.
Should I lace them through her hair,
Or would they just by hanging there
Seem to wilt, seem to tear
Beneath the blazing beauty?

Today was the first day in ages (3 weeks plus) where poetry has spontaneously popped into my head while doing something. It was starting to get lonely with just these thoughts in my head. I wrote it down somewhere I think...

The journey of a thousand miles

A single step
Such a simple thing
One foot forwards
One foot back
Shifting the earth
To make room for you

Susurrus, a crunching
The ground lapped up
Like cereal from a bowl
As tanned leather buttressed
In smooth polymer curves
Grips the protesting surface
And pulls reality.

Swish. Tarzan through the trees
Brachiation from gravel to gravel
The gentle swing, a pendulum
Metronome counting the beats
Music of movement
Driven home with the earthy percussion
Of landing.

The journey of a thousand miles
Is but a single step
Ad infinitum.

Free Rice

Searching for forgotten words
Some of which I've never heard
It seems that all I really knew
Was a smattering of the language

We sat, stoic cats, with our hands spread like mats on the carpet
You turned your head, and you said "I's so sad we're alone"
I was dumb, you're the one, like a tonne, a light shone down from heaven
But you turned, and I learned, that it burned like an earth-bound space stone.

When you are feeling too afraid to do something, remember this:

Only people from the Mediterranean can be Italicised
But anyone can be bold.

It struck me tonight

The essential irony

A shiny new trash can.

You could touch the sky
If you'd stop staring at the fairy dust
And start learning to fly.

Hold the candle flame
In a quavering palm
Straining to hold back the night
Like Samson
In a room full of pillars.

They say absence
A plum nestled in the grass
Staring at grandeur
A tree ruffled by the wind
Susurrus of cool acquaintance
Flaneur. A relationship
Going out with the tide.

Show me how it ends
That it's alright
Tell me how I've wandered
Into the night
I need to survive
Though the day is too bright
Thoughts for foothills.

Onwards and upwards
Behind the stage
I was holding the ladder
When the world fell away
Through the great tumble-drier
I'm parched as the days
Have you any water?

Thoughts for foothills
Eyes like knives
I bow to your will
In all things.

I saw the giraffes
They was buzzing
Down the downtown
Number sixteen
They don't got no thumbs
But they sure is cool

Why don't you disagree
You never talk to me
At least to say something
That's been bugging you.

The Uprising of the Radish

The black and white of love
Bedazzles
The many hued complexities
Of the human heart.

If poetry is any writing
And music is any sound,
If pictures are any colour,
Unchecked expressions
Of human thought

Then where is art?

Why do you sit there as the morn breaks?
She is the midwife of the oceans
Whose bones are old and broken
Where the small children play
It was peace lillies at christmas
A type of forgiveness
Standing down by the river side
Footprints in the sand.

Just because it is Green, that doesn't make it fresh.

How the children must sing of this day
Supping buttermilk in an innocent way
Dalliance whittles the gentle morning away
In dreams of custard fairies, I'm none too sure
Whether the weather will change.

Musings Volume 1
Though seeds of destruction
Should flower and bloom
I gaze through the window
And stare at the moon
We are two creatures, you and I
Neither children of the night
But lulled by its fluid charms
Into the arms of an angel.