The boy with purple sleeves ...

The boy with purple sleeves cut my hair -

I recognise your head he said -

There were Christmas baubles hung above the cut throat razors -


I listened to the barbers' banter -

The scissors danced above my head -


Barnets
Wareham

November 29 2019

The gaudy tin ...

I'm eighty eight she said -

My daughter wants me to go in a home -

I don't want to go into a home -

Look, there's my kitchen -

See - 

And my hair - I've just had it done -


I looked at the sparkling work top -

The neat hair -

The calendar on the wall -


My eyes pricked with tears -

There they were -

All the days crossed out -

One by one -


I saw the willow pattern plate -

Three biscuits from the gaudy tin -

The house all around her like the empty sea -


November 2019

Sea-green incorruptible .,.

I remember my dad longing to be a member of a revolutionary tribunal -

Making swift judgements -

Lean like Cassius -


He'd linger over the words -

Sea-green incorruptible -


November 2019

The wheezing man ..

The wheezing man opened his door -

A drizzly rain was falling -


I'm fed up with them all he said -


I'm for the NHS I said -

It saved my life -


I want us to leave the wheezing man said -


November 2019

The letter ...

The letter was like an elegant snare -

Grave concerns - 

My regrets - 

The man wearing brogues would avoid hearing truths - 

He'd support a charity - 

Slip into a photograph - 

Smile his gleaming smile -

November 2019

A silky voice ...

All I saw was a navy blue blazer -

Brown brogues - 

A posho shirt - 

All I heard was a silky voice - 

I concur with all you say - 

We must all work together - 

Let's get Brexit done - 

Hustings

Swanage 

November 2019 

Magical thinking ...

It's magical thinking I thought -

All these suspicious brows -

These lowered, wary, eyes -


Ears deaf to whatever words I speak -

Whatever hope I bring -

In thrall to a smirking head, floating on a screen -


November 2019

The man wearing brogues ...

Would the man wearing brogues knock on a door like this ?

Climb these dimly lit stairs ?

Hear a dog barking in a hopeless lounge ?

He might shoot his cuffs -

Sing God Save the Queen at an Armistice Parade -

Offer tea to yoga ladies -

Yet the pinched streets would still be there -

The door would open on the hopeless lounge -


November 2019

Swanage

Following numbers ...

We all follow numbers now -

We look at trajectories -

I think of Brecht -

I can sit, hugger mugger -

But I can't dissolve the people -

And elect another -


November 2019

Magical thinking ...

It's magical thinking I thought -

All these suspicious brows -

These lowered, wary, eyes -


Ears deaf to whatever words I use -

Whatever hope I bring -

In thrall to a smirking head -

Floating on a screen -


November 2019

Swanage
Dorset 

The red banner ...

I followed my heart -

I followed the red banner -

I remembered my grandparents -

My dad's dad, working in the dockyard -

Shaping the iron and steel -

The grey ships swallowing men's strength -

My mum's dad -

Haunted by the terrifying years -

Cycling the cold miles, looking for work -

Then I remembered my mum, called by her surname -

Harding, you clean the silver now -

There could be no other banner -


November 2019

Swanage
Dorset 

The stove ...

This was the second night we had lit the stove -

I arranged the kindling as though it were part of an installation in a pristine gallery -

My fingers were scented with kerosine -

I remembered the stove in the November tea house -

The photograph of Attaturk -

The dark greenery of the Mulberry tree -

The glass tear drops held in work worn hands -



Thursday 21 November 2019


The Old School House
East Stoke
Dorset

Karabortlen gold ...

This evening, we used the olive oil pressed in the generous garden -

I remembered the mountains and the fragrant pines -

The beautiful leaves of the olive trees -

The gift of the olives -

Their picking -

The magic blade of Mr Karageorge's knife -

The laughter on the terrace -

The stories told as the moon rose in the warm sky -

Treasures -

Karabortlen gold -


Wednesday 20 November 2019


The Old School House
East Stoke
Dorset

Picturing the house in The Mezzotint ...

When I saw the house, I thought of the story by M R James -

The Mezzotint -


I pictured the house lit by moonlight -

A crouching shape, halfway across the lawn -

A shadow in the nursery -

The lamps lit too late -


Tuesday 19 November 2019

Purbecks
Dorset 

Counting heartbeats ...

The two wiry boys were well versed in crowbar lore -

They knew the wiles of chimneys -

I saw the sooty memories of long ago winters -


I sat, for a while, with those who'd lived in this house -

Who'd walked with me in the quiet valley -

Who'd gathered pine cones as I had -


Together, we'd thrown the pine cones upon the fire -

Watched the flames burn brighter -

Counted our heartbeats whilst the fire burned -


18 November 2019

The Old School House
East Stoke
Dorset 

Bell Street ...

I remembered this pathway -

These steps - 

The three small stone angels - 

The tangled lawn - 

When the door opened, the same air came out - 

I glimpsed the same corner of the hallway - 

A framed photograph of a lost darling - 

The long years like sad dust scattered in every room - 

Sunday 17 November 2019

Bell Street 

Swanage 

The Daily Mail open on the kitchen table ...

He's a traitor -

No, not interested - 

A liar - 

Sell us to the Russians - 

He's got no integrity - 

He's a terrorist - 

I read it in the papers - 

I heard these words - 

I saw those who spoke them - 

I pictured the black squashy sofa in the lounge - 

A memory of Jeremy Kyle - 

The Jack Russell in the back garden - 

The Daily Mail open on the kitchen table - 

Saturday 16 Novrmber 2019

Swanage 

Dorse 

A burning pen ...

I'm in The Old Granary -

Warmed by a wood burning stove -

The deer hound in the ironmongers is hunkered down -

Gentle hip hop's playing -

I'm reading Germinal -

That Zola !

Those miners, in that flat dire land -

Those pits -

Each page sends you reeling -

I read then in a newspaper about food banks -

Pinched lives -

Immiseration -

We need a Zola -

A calling out of lies -

A j'accuse ! 

A burning pen -


Friday 15 November 2019


The Old Granary
Wareham
Dorset

Testament ...

The simple stage waited for Testament -

His voice would be his uncanny instrument -

There he would throw light into our dark hearts -


November 2019


Scarborough 

Texican sun ...

The Vaults were empty - 

No sign of the man who sold silver dollars - 

Wicked knives - 

Postcards of nearly naked Indian braves - 

Perhaps he was in El Paso - 

Drinking Tequila - 

His jeans held up by a snakeskin belt - 

The Texican sun in his eyes - 

November 2019

Scarborough 

South Bay ...

I walked past the churchyard where you can trace the flight of gulls -

Past the wintering hotels -

The glimpses of empty lounges -


I stood outside the Clifton hotel, remembering the poet -

The wind followed me across the beach -


I held a pebble in my hand -

Warming it in my hand -


It was like writing something true -

Finding the words -


Each one found a dark shore -

Each one warmed in my hand -


November 2919


Scarborough 

Cocteau in The Vaults ...

I passed The Wizard Tattoo Parlour on my way to The Vaults -

One day, I thought, I'll get a walk in tattoo -

I was on a quest for a foxed Colette -

I found one in The Vaults -

A 1962 Penguin Modern Classic -

Cheri and The Last of Cheri -

Both in one volume -

Only slightly foxed -

A drawing by Cocteau on the front cover -

I walked down Eastborough, towards Merchants Row -

Looking back, I saw the woman who'd taken my small coins -

She was sitting on the pavement, outside The Vaults -

The smoke from her cigarette wreathing her long black hair -


November 2019

Scarborough

Eating bagels ...

The man behind the counter looked like a Shoreditch prophet -

His place was called Rhapsody -

He served us bagels and stroked his beard -

We sat at a rough table, looking out at the winding street -

Every second Georgian house was a gallery -


Paul's grandparents had come here every year -

Staying in the same B & B -

I opened my Yorkshire Post -

I thought of June, and of Paul's grandad, who I'd never met -


There was no time to see the harbour -

The beach huts facing the sea -

Old histories became new histories -

There were new numbers on my watch -


November  2019

Rhapsody
Bridlington 

The Golden Ball ...

We were warmed by a fire of sea coals -

Through the window, we could see the harbour -

The small fishing boats with their mysterious gear - 

The salt rimed fishermen casting off - 

The reflections of storm tested hulls in the water - 

And beyond the lighthouse the pale horizon - 

There was a globe on the window sill - 

The continents small enough to fit in your hand - 

I could sit here all of the dark days with my dizzying glass - 

Planning voyages to golden shores - 

November 2019

The Golden Ball

Scarborough 

North Bay ...

North Bay was a welter of roaring waves -

White heaving water broke against the darkening shore -

Surfers, like young titans, rode their swift boards -


If I dreamed this, I'd see three pale ships -

Entering the harbour -

Sails woven from the wind -


November 2019


North Bay
Scarborough

The Candidate ...

In Malton, we met the candidate -

He leaned on his stick - examined us with his veteran's bright knowing eye -

Earlier, we'd seen his comrades -

One of them wore faux farmer's tweed -

Stallholders were shouting in the market -

There was a yellow rickshaw outside a shop selling bric a brac -

Brave leaflets were handed out to passersby -

From the train we'd seen the small villages and flooded fields -

There's a majority of twenty thousand here to overturn the candidate said -


November 2019

Malton
Yorkshire

Merchants Row ...

The tall houses in Merchants Row kept their long years close -

Creaking stairs led to cob webbed attics -

White waves broke upon a darkening shore -


November 2019

Scarborough

In the Yay Cafe again ...

We're in the Yay Cafe again -

We've been here before, when the trees were in summer leaf -

Wallace is talking now -

Happy he says - happy - 

He nibbles an exquisite macaroon -

Spoons the froth from his babychino like a languid fin-de-siècle dandy -


November 2019

Woodend
Scarborough 

Left behind towns ...

The long train carried us through the edgelands -

Away from the glass towers and the river -

The beggars kneeling on the walkway, hiding their faces -

 The opulent SUVs -

Soon all I saw were bare fields -

The pale sky darkening -

The left behind towns -

The sad houses -

The voiceless people -


November 2019

LNER train

Inside the circle ...

The green winding path took me to the birch grove -

I stood inside the circle -

Here, the wind against the leaves came from the edge of the world -


There were other places -

The chapel on the high hill, above the sea -

The water welling up from the sacred spring -

The final garden with its gentle earth -

The stone engraved with precious names -


Sunday 3 November 2019


East Stoke
Dorset

South Western Train ...

It was as though the South Western train was leaving a besieged city -

There were nervy announcements -

Restless suitcases -

News of delays on the inscrutable screens -

Trees blown down upon the rails -

Towns cleansed -

Tickets hidden deep in our pockets -

The wild wind blowing the rain against our faces -


Saturday 2 November 2019


Wareham
Dorset

All of our former beauty ...

We walked past The King of Trainers -

Mobility scooters whispered through the precinct -

Once inside Beales, we lost time amongst the lambs wool and the fragrances -

A man who could have been Mr Polly sold sofa beds -

Spooky mannequins guarded the entrances to the fitting rooms -

Anne bought me a jumper -

I gazed at myself in the full length mirror -

What secrets mirrors held, I thought -

All of our former beauty -

Then the shapes to come -


Friday 1 November 2019

Beales
Poole  

Watching the film, "Transit" ..

I imagined how it would be -

To be afraid of policemen -

To fear their cars shrieking in the streets -


I imagined listening to talk of cleansing -

The cleansing of small towns -

Hirelings justifying murder -


I pictured the betrayals in shabby hotels -

The feel of dirty money -

The weight of a passport in my pocket -


Wednesday 30 October 2019

The Lighthouse
Poole