HE QUICKENED HIS STEP

Have you ever had an idea that you initially think is complete by itself but on closer examination you realise something is missing? I had this image of a man being pursued throughout his life by his errors. They had manifested as these large ugly creatures that followed him everywhere. I suppose my idea comes from the Furies of Ancient Greece.

However, it did not feel a complete idea in itself. Over a couple of weeks the image clarified itself in to this poem.

He made it clear to the station

then he saw his errors

lope down the street

each vying for his attention.

He quickened his step.

As the train pulled out

there they were again,

skidding down the platform.

This night in this hotel room

on the outskirts of his new life

he looks out over the city

coloured lights against the black

and wishes against all logic for a path back.

His errors slumber,

breathe heavily,

the minutes tick by.

I wanted the poem to be a snapshot rather than the whole story. I wanted to allow the reader to infer, to make up their own mind,  to show rather than tell.

Here is Maria Gadu. 

Until next time.

A HOLE IN THE SKY

When I was in Australia I wrote a number of poems. I think that the stimulation of travelling spurs the creative processes, gets the chops moving so to speak.

Fremantle 2018

He warns me that I will burn

easier here than in Europe.

Points to the night sky

and confides there is a hole.

With diplomatic cowardice

I refrain from admitting partial responsibility.

I helped to make it.

Forty years ago I was employed

in the negative alchemy

of turning brine into caustic, hydrogen

and chlorine [the basis of all CFCs],

the side effect of which,

half a world away,

is this hole in the sky.

There are better legacies.

This is autobiographical, you can read another poem about those days here.
The second poem relates again to Australia.

straight out of a horror film

the bird hit the window

it is dead

by the time I get there

eyes blank

cooling

as I bury it

the sound of flesh impacting on glass will not leave my head 

Love Forever Changes seems to have a near permanent place on my turntable at the moment, I can't seem to get enough of it. 
Here is The Red Telephone.

And some more Maria Gadu.

Until next time.

GHOST CHOREOGRAPGHY

The two poems in this post appeared unheralded giving no indication as to how they were formed. This happens occasionally. Most of the time I have a good idea where the components of a poem have arrived from, though I am loath to dissemble them in public. 

ghosts come uninvited to activate the machinery

that projects forgotten memories

and he swims through the resultant images

to re-taste a thousand defeats

on awakening from a night of bitter lost chances

he wonders if he is not his ghost’s lab rat

but the day clamours for his attention

ghost choreography directing his every step

The second one seems to repeat the first but more optimistically.

No matter

We run in circles,

though at the zenith point we believe we have escaped,

our feet only know a set number of steps so eventually we return.

Possibly we give thanks like mariners sighting landfall.

Probably we do not, viewing the familiar through

a black and white lens that sepias our soul.

But for now all that is in the future,

the mist will burn off, the day promises sun

and the road to who knows where reels him in.

I quite like the idea that the lure of the road draws us on. 
There is a fatality to these poems that surprises me. I am usually more positive.
Brooke Sharkey is in the studio recording a new album-very excited. Watch this space for more news.

On spec I downloaded an album by Maria Gadu this week, I'd listened to a couple of snippets and thought it was worth a gamble and it was. It is really good music from Brazilian. Surprisingly she covers Jacques Brel's Ne Me Quitte Pas, which featured in a tv show.
Here she is singing Bela Flor.

This is Veja Bem.

Until next time.