poetry is for people
who read in the night
horses are for people
who look through windows
for a wandering plain
freedom
in many shades of tan
and with the desert
you can have your wordless
friend, but give him
silver studs on a saddle
of black leather
and a … Read the rest

Why now my years have you brought me to the changing gate, shimmering bright
a formless haze yet with a detail painful in its clarity, with needles of perception
fine and terrible changing a tormented grid into a fan of loving fire, a stuttering
corpse into a rhyming song, approaching … Read the rest

hangman both, hanging me
to sea grown rocks below
lovers always
in games of green and grey
returning, leaving, racing back
to cover with gentle running fingers
smooth white curls
fading into pools
of dark ground stones
causing the bed to rise
in terraced angles
of sheltered rock
two brooding … Read the rest

in this crowded room
we are alone
looking down
at each others hands
so gently
I will ask you
once more
if you remember
how we played
in the embrace
of our first nursery
it really was ours
in the beginning
clean and bright
like a new coin
spinning at … Read the rest

I saw your son
this afternoon
sitting opposite me
on the train
eating peppermints
fro a large paper bag
unsure
of the people
he watches
as they change stops
whatever it was
you wanted for him
I don’t think
he achieved it
his shirts
are nearly clean
his trousers
almost … Read the rest

a rat under the bandwagon

is rinsing his pearls for us

in a broken rhesus jar

and (dear God) already we are lost

a blind salesman in yellow fur

offers the cartoon city marble

against a sky of silly blue

and (dear God) already we are lost.

the iron beam … Read the rest

did you ever

get one of those mornings

all sunshine

in a crowded high street

all those people

with sun in their hair

even the shopping bags

were smiling

supermarket displays

all those colours

I wanted

to hug everybody

and say ” I love you”

but all those protectors

of … Read the rest

You said, love is seeing
the morning
complete as the rain
made three almost four,of us
you said,and in saying
saw my name
as the stranger outside your window.

You said, love is feeling
the afternoon
an endless rising dream
of tomorrow in gold
you said, and in saying
forgot … Read the rest

show me mornings tower
prism built, night washed
dawn held and waiting.
help me climb, mornings tower
for I am lame and sleeping late
have awakened
after the Lords of Mid-Heaven
have dismantled the tower.
leaving me the riddle
of one more endless day.
but my father has given me… Read the rest

peace was the virtue
thrown against the wall
left to hang, and later
sliding down
to rest huddled
and stretched
with the hungry
called necessary
and thrown again
to the torn
and empty people
as a sadly grotesque clown
paraded before them
as a friend
but constant only
in repetition… Read the rest