No-Go Zone

Language debases

But bombs more so

 

It is

simple

War kills.

 

So it’s hubs or zones

The words take on

Nuances of distress

 

Meaning nothing,

 

Empty

These zones

No shelter, food

Electricity, no hub

For anyone

Just death

 

Meaning

Fear, panic

Distress, disbelief

As missiles, rockets

Pound down

 

A  garden

Seems, almost

A fantasy

I can shelter

under a tree

And listen

to birds

 

Copyrighted by the author

Standing

To be a plant

Waving all day

So that branches strengthen

Resolve

And heart beats seasonally

Quickening in spring

To whisper

Wisely with the energy

Of air,

Dandelion poemdrafts

Stand, as is

Stretching, feeling

Lungs expand lines again

As mind begins to grow

Rooted in the nourishment

Of wordsoil

 

 

Copyrighted by the author

I pick leaves which are stippled, yellow,stunted, chewed and ragged

with grey translucent trails and bites,

mottled, brown, hard rust spots

white fungus on a rosa multiflora

which sticks a healthy limb

bravely into the sudden wet

I find spider mites curled up

shell-like, flowers scrunched

munched, nitrogen-deprived.

I lay them out on a paper towel

where together, brimming

with life, each leaf-form’s

beauty unfolds in endless

complexity. I am strangely

comforted by the sculptural

delicacy before me. I resolve

to accept nature’s vicissitudes

 

Copyrighted by the author

 

in which chairs coloured the rain

it was an indoors week

looking out to the north

the only respite

work’s drizzle-slog striped

blue-azure a green-red

sodden comfort

waiting for the sound of tennis

to thud across the court

so conventional a scene

lost to me,  just remembrance

of chairs which coloured

the rain, then the unwinding

way turning us nestwards

 

 

Copyrighted by the author

Silence

The soft humming was me

The chair upstairs the chorister.

A heater creaks. Otherwise,

Silence.

Wait,

 

The possum’s shrill screech

Reverberates in the plants.

I’m tempted to go after it

Pleading helplessly, do your

Ruinations elsewhere.

 

Instead, I do nothing.

I hear a Gaza child

Screaming into the night

“I want my father, bring me

My father”(newspaper report

24th July 2014)

 

There is no truce.

 

Except maybe a moment

Snatched from fright,

I wish, of olive leaf

Of garden peace

Even of possum greed

Of silent thought

 

Of thought

in silence

Of silence

In all these warring

Lands. Once

Upon a time

 

 

 

Copyrighted by the author

 

Mind leaps

Across the page to garden

Thoughts, screen dumps

Mud on soil, restless

Legs are running

Recklessly in word

Sprints, roses await

Full stops, the rain holds

Off, waiting for me

To abandon the desk

For good, I’ve even

Planned the line

This is the beginning

 

 

Copyrighted by the author