#Poem – The One

I am with you, she said
Can you feel this, this kiss
Don’t you wish for me
every second of the day
Don’t you dream within dreams
within me
Do you not come to me blind
Am I not spell-binder
your possessor

Dissolve into me
as nothing I have known before

Make this mark
Imprint indelibly a fracture

From this point
nothing will be the same

#Poem – Soma

An old map leads me to an overgrown path
ferns, tall grass, shrubs
no one’s walked here for years

Looks like there’s a new track
cut through the trees further up the slope
built to take the logging trucks and machinery

This path is fine
a little slow at times
but with good views of the river

#Poem – Chocolate Box

Now that the leaves have left
and the winter chimneys
rock upwards from the black brickwork,
the sooty steelworks blank
against the sky, scaffolding,
cages, iron ladders, morning
sun cuts over the horizon,
reveals a quiet sculpture
that puts nature to shame,
to the bottom drawer,
with pillowcases, nuptial nightie,
ribbons red and blue. Down
in the hallway, a safety helmet,
working gloves, shadow of pickaxe,
tin lunchbox, communal bath,
a single note sung by many…
Sketches and photographs lie
on a mahogany desk, with carpet
and leather, inkwell, blotter,
half a ton of combination safe.

On a hillside a lad sings,
scans the kites and kestrels,
follows a sheeptrack to Blowden Pool,
finds the worms and maggots
in the carcass of a fox
then looks to tomorrow
and the next day, and on,
like it was all guaranteed,
like it was up to him
to choose or deny,
yes or no a million times over.

Inside the safe, wodges of banknotes,
other papers, signatures, bonds,
a point four five revolver.

#Poem – Cigarette Poem

Sometimes we talk
not today
the first time I’ve known you sit beside me
on a bench, warm
fallen sun, leaves
facing west

I read, as if you were invisible
You lean closer to see the page
Hair touches
breath, scent

You smile
naughty, happy

This is how it is

#Poem – Charcoal from Pine

I made charcoal from pine
and wrote to you
on the side of our rock in the forest

If you’re quick, before the rains
you will read it
but I think you will be delayed

Perhaps, to avoid disappointment
I will wash it away myself
and you will be twice as happy