Lostening

We blink at each other
thru some fug of confusion
The slow eyeball roll
to a grasp for conclusion
I hear your noise distant
As when wisps of mists cloud
All the words that you say
And I blink in ascent

Some time some time ago
we sang the same lyrics
Your accented verbs
lit my mind with loves fire
Attuned to the vibrant chords
Lept from your full lips
I wondered the musical
majesty of breath

Yet here we sit side by side
Tone deaf and mystified
Straining to glean
just a semblance of sense
I hear you, don’t get me wrong,
My ears are not yet deaf
What i hear is not quite though what your tongue likely meant

Get Ready

Let’s get ready to shine a light
Here in the dark of our internet night
Plotting a coup in anonymous spaces
Driving the ire of inhumane wastes

Let’s shine a light on the core of these themes
Muster battallions through click-friendly meme’s
Inform those who’s backgrounds are hiding bones
Ransack the media, hammer points home

There is a real fight on our hands right here
Yes, unsettling but evermore clear
Some old-guard blackguards are keeping mum
Derailing all threats from your education

Let’s get ready to light the fuse
Shine our minds bright on this crippling ruse
Alas there’s slim chance of your own Eldorado
P’raps excuse tho’ to ignite future-wise souls

Flammarion

By Anonymous – Camille Flammarion, L’Atmosphère: Météorologie Populaire (Paris, 1888), pp. 163, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=318054

Foray into self publishing

Status

great-news

Great news everybody!

There’s a real life self-published book available now.

This collection is a journey through a day; the space, faces and traces of the day as it whirls through to night. Each written from different times in my life, gathered into a measurable meander through here and now. Characters introduced are real, the feelings are honest and the end result is a succinct insight into many of the journeys each of us take from being a sleep to being awake.

Morning Tongue: A day in the grotty life is a celebration of that nagging voice in the back of one’s mind shouting that there must be more to it all than this. This book will bring warm senses of rhythm to your bosom, sanity to your crazy, and so on. The poems in this book are not available on the blog, although a few have been aired here for reflective purposes.

Published in hard copy and available to all good readers for £5.99 from the machinery of Blurb (yes, sucking the romance out of creativity, self-publishing is a route, much like previous great writers, along which I am tentatively toe-tipping)!

How do I get mine?

You may wish to get hold of one of these Softcover page-turners and can do so by contacting me directly. It will cost the same £5.99 but this price includes delivery (instead of adding the bonkers £6.99 delivery charge that blurb charge).

Rather modernly, there is also a digital version through amazon, which turns in at a much more reasonable £2.99 ($3.91) drastically improving your poem/penny return…

Join me on this journey and help share the stupendous clarity and touching-bared-soulfulness of Morning Tongue, A Day in the grotty life.

 

 

For wanting to share in this laconic exploration in the poetry of south London, I Thank You. All reviews, comments, insights, responses will be gratefully read through and filtered carefully.

Bon Fire

Sparks which light up this sky so bright,
to light the hearts of youth tonight.
Those that whistle, whirr and ping:
showers that usher the winter in.
Loud bright claps
and whooshes of firepower
launched from the dark,
glowing, burning…then embers.
For this sharp date
when kids stay up late,
steals breath from all lips
frozen, open and baited.
Tonight the sky is blistered light
and caught in brains
and smoked so bright.

In Dreams I Am Healthy And Wealthy

The Nightmare, J Henry Fuseli (Wikipedia Source)

The Nightmare, J Henry Fuseli (Wikipedia Source)

So dreams come each night differently –
Last night there was a foreign tramp eating our swans
We fought – I couldn’t find my voice
In dreams I often don’t

One night I may be lost in an enormous house
Or fleeing an ominous villain
At night these thoughts invade my head
Escape my bed
Fill up the dead of sleep

Sometime ago I dreamt of flying
Skimming treetops down steep slopes
A quick paced spring and over again
A divine dream of falling down

This is the trick of these night flicks
Filling my brain with illusion
Each day I awake
Into a lovely right life
And take a tick to bring peace to confusion

But even these dreams
As glorious as stars
Never leave me wishing
They were how things are
Even though in my dreams I am healthy and wealthy
I’m richest with my Malika

Lost Girl

Worldly lonely
This girl caught sadly
Bleeds and crying
Drawn from lightness

It’s her light
She’ll quit tonight
In this quilt of night
Her last flight

So she goes
Good girl gladly
No one misses
Or asks where she goes

My Private Wonder

Stalking quietly
Quickly lightly
Hunting them who cannot see thee
Hunching tensely
Breathless nobly
Pounce on pray so unaware

I can see thee
I can hear you,
In the darkness
In the light

You will hardly catch me sleeping
While a breath in your lungs haunts
Morning lately, noon or nighttime –
Never can I rest at all

Creeping slinky
Shadows crawling
Though I fear you in my mind
I shout loudly
Sharply strutting
You shall not my manner wane