Mind ripples

19/05/2013 at 19:46 (Poetry, Writing) (Poetry, Writing)

A little while back, I was asked to post some poetry on my blog for a follower to read. And of course, sieve that my memory can be, this information drained right through as soon as something else (novel, work, a bee) got my attention.

So, without further ado – some mind ripples. They usually occur at emotional peaks, when no other outlet will do. Being half-cut usually helps in the process; though were I to try a live reading, I’d need said bottle and a table to stand on, and subsequently fall off.

Written for my paternal grandfather, a real Jupiter of a character; now sadly diminished in age, but no less loving (or articulate)

Grandfather Clock

I wait among shadows, the smell of old leather
Where bees wax and boot polish mingle and blend
To settle my nervy excitement, to keep
My twitching young fingers from straying too near.

A small golden crescent of lamplight dethrones
The darkness from seating itself in his place
Of workman repose, of silent production
With small ticking arms, and shining clock face.

His dexterous fingers dance with a spidery
Grace and intelligence so seldom seen
Among men of his age and endurance in living
But Grandfather breathes with the breath of a trade.

A collector of watches and clocks in his time
As jeweler and husband, as father and man
Of travels cross-country and through many homes
Where his head lay on pillows of feather and straw.

But settled is he in a workshop of webs
Of dust and old tools, where the mice come and go
And here shall I stand in my corner, to wait
For the memories that fragment, to follow me home.

Scrawled out in my notepad, while bored as sin in what was purported to be a Creative Writing seminar, at Portsmouth Uni. I lasted about 9 weeks there.

Autumn Thoughts

A tapestry of autumn
Banked against a sky of pearl
A room within, hard walls of lemon
With heads bent low
Sharp-narrowed thoughts
Trained on the job in hand.

A restless leaf, my mind
Is stirred in the fearless breeze
Along the ledge, the baubles of rain
Cluster as starlings
Breathless suspension
Awaiting their shining flight.

And a few haikus, posted to Twitter when out walking and inspired, or lost in the daze before sleep:

The dance of the rook / Blackest wing to shroud my day / Night lives in its throat

With the faintest light / Love’s lasting kiss, the promise / A secret and star

It’s a milk-honey sky out there, a gorgeous evening. Make sure you fling the windows wide, friend; let the leaf-shadows and blossom in, and the tortured breath of humans, out.