Summer Squall

summer squalls hurl rain
hard against my garage door
wind finds cracks
around windows and doors
screeching it’s successful entry


on days like this
I feel most alone
and strangely
most at peace


clouds are whipped
across a duck egg sky
and the sun peeks now and then
to ensure the land remains
refreshed and clean


on days like this
I feel most alone
and strangely
most at peace.


my thoughts travel
on seaside fragrance
to familiar and sometimes fantastic places
as around me
summer continues


on days like this
I feel most alone
and finally
most at peace

China Blue

A pale sky watches my face,

waiting for me to open my eyes. 

A gentle breeze tries to rouse me,

but only manages to make me smile.

The whispering trees enter my dream

and remind me of the ocean.

My eyes open and see china blue,

and emerald green,

and a translucent turquoise sea,

and golden sands gleaming.

The heady fragrance of frangipani

Reminds me of her…

Aubergine clouds fill my mind.

My heart aches Prussian blue.

My mouth tastes ferric red.

I miss her more than sunrise orange.

Vale

Gentle waves of melancholy
Wash against my mind.
Never enough to pull me down - 
They serve to remind me
Of past happinesses,
And joys yet to be experienced.

My Bitter Mouth

About Last Night

(a clutch of Haiku)

I saw a flower 
Break beneath a waxing moon 
It was her first time 


*


I misunderstood 
And find I should have cared more 
I breakfast alone 


*


The sheets do belong 
To the one who deserves them 
She recalls my name 


*


In a certain light 
I am considered handsome 
We make love at night

*


Through a web of joy 
We dance the tarantella 
two crazy lovers 

Schrödinger’s Cat

Sometimes I’m like that cat
Alone in the box. 
Am I alive
Or am I dead. 
Waiting for somebody, anybody
To open the box,
To interact
And look inside. 


What if I’m dead?
That wouldn’t be the best.
Or would it?
No more mystery
And I’d be out of the box.
Somebody would know. 
Therefore my existence,
Even in death,
Would be validated. 


What if they look inside
And I’m alive?
That would be good - 
Wouldn’t it?
I’d be able to talk to someone.
I’d be out of the box.
It would be nice -
As long as I had the choice
To get back in the box
Whenever I needed to. 

Awkward Words

As politicians moisten their lips
And prepare periodic messages
To chasten questioners. 
Their febrile speeches leave wanting 
Those with open eyes. 
And merely catapult words not actions 
Into gaping political holes. 
Tearing sanguine thoughts
From confused minds. 
Leaving strong perceptions flaccid
And hearts to hang pendulous -
Broken and deceived. 
When all that is required
From these pouting lips
Is some truth to hold on to 
In these times of strife. 

Ohm

Crossings

Reality

Harsh realities crash in
And like bitter memories do
They change us
Maybe even remove
Any sense of sensibility
And we find ourselves
In empty shopping malls
Searching for toilet paper
And pasta that isn’t wholegrain.
Panicked and broken
We return to our homes
Switch on the radio or tv
And listen to the latest news –
How many have succumbed
How many new cases
When will toilet paper
Be back on the shelves.
Maybe some of us
Reread Tolkien’s
Lord of the Rings
Or all of our Harry Potter novels
While we snack on chocolate
Left over from Christmas
And drink tea
Flavoured with honey
And play board games
And wonder if things
Will ever be the same.

In case of emergency