In The Poetry

During the War

When my brother came home from war
he carried his left arm in a black sling
but assured us most of it was still there.
Spring was late, the trees forgot to leaf out.

I stood in a long line waiting for bread.
The woman behind me said it was shameless,
someone as strong as I still home, still [...]

The Rose

a labyrinth,
as if at its center,
god would be there -
but at the center, only rose,
where rose came from,
where rose grows -
& us, inside of the lips & lips:
the likenesses, the eyes, & the hair,
we are born of,
fed by, & marry with,
only flesh itself, only its passage
– out of where? to [...]

This is a version of a famous poem by Mallarme called ‘Brise Marine’

Sea Wind

(Mallarme)

It’s a sad creature I’m afraid the body
all the classics – every book that stands steady
I on my shelves I’ve read them through but only
to make this wish – oh to walk to the edge of the sea
and watch stints skittering along [...]

‘Paradise’ is about something that really happened to me. I saw a fight between a sparrowhawk, or a kestrel, and a smaller songbird in the sky, and a spot of blood did fall down and it fell on to my hand. And I also saw a storm, I experienced a storm, as it [...]

A poem called ‘A Blade of Grass’.

You ask for a poem.
I offer you a blade of grass.
You say it is not good enough.
You ask for a poem.

I say this blade of grass will do.
It has dressed itself in frost,
It is more immediate
Than any image of my making.

You say it is not a poem.
It is a [...]

Elegant Sibyl

Having become an expert at false tones
as the voices slide lower or higher than intended
out of control, having heard so many lies
seen so many faces altering crazily
trying to hide their real motives,
having pondered the fate of those who came to consult her
and how little difference any words make,
her gaze is now withdrawn and watchful [...]

I like to write about children, especially about their talk because they say very wise things and ask very strange and wonderful questions. And also they love to play in the middle of it all frequently. So asking questions and loving to play – I sometimes think that’s what education should be about. This poem [...]

This sequence ‘From a Diary of Non-Events’ was written over one year but it started in December of the year 2000 and carries on until the November of the following year, 2001. And the title is slightly ironic because I do in fact include some events although the poem is mainly about what I call [...]

This poem is about two old blue Witney blankets which were the blankets on my bed when I was a child, and I didn’t see them for decades. I left home, had my life etcetera, then, when I was clearing out my family’s house after the deaths of my parents, I found these same [...]

This poem tries to put down on paper another aspect of childhood and it’s eating things and drinking and smelling and hearing and all that.

Childhood Tracks

Eating crisp fried fish with plain bread.
Eating sheared ice made into ‘snowball’
with syrup in a glass.
Eating young jelly-coconut, mixed
with village-made wet sugar.
Drinking cool water from a calabash gourd
on worked land [...]