Poem

She came back through the rain to me one day
During that summer when I used to sit
In that shelter on the edge of the park.
I can’t remember what the reason was

To you my love, an expression of my soul:

Parting of the ways.

I want to write a sonnet to you, though
I’m not that into Petrarch (his lament
Can get repetitive, when its extent
Exceeds 300 sonnets), and I know

i'm not there yet, but I will be soon...
Glad I got this one off my chest...

Taxi cab shimmer in
the street light glow
of a Saturday night,
spray painted people
like burnt hollow flames
licking at the curve
of a crumbling pavement,
the language of languid sirens

At the retail Olympics
You’d get your blue
You will always win
The race for shoes

Marriages are made in heaven
The women tell the men

If seventy five percent of all
Accidents happen or befall

When the pain becomes too much
And the searching goes too deep
I slip away

When the thought of losing you kills me
And I can't stop crying
I slip away

I go to a place in the distance

Funny how something so simple
Can be so complex.
Strange how a heartbeat
Can seem so scary.

But here I am with you
And I'm scared as I can be.
I've never been short on words

Last night I dreamt
That the sun was shining brightly.
And the flowers were all beautiful
And you were here with me.

And in that dream I saw
That your eyes shone with love.

Daybreak brings a hope so grand;
Only in our torn dreams brier roses
Untangling do we begin to understand?
What sparkle in the shadows composes
The lyrics on the wind quietly broken

“To walk in nature as Wordsworth; did,
To see the pensive stars in there grid
A Moon-white-ice-crimped lake
The hilltops burning, slowly; opaque
Ashen as autumns, burnished, reds

Thanks to a very kind friend, was able to attend last week's prom concert by the West-Eastern Divan Orchestra (that attempt by Daniel Barenboim to use his art towards conflict resolution).

quick splashes
of the mother boar
as she circles the pool in search of him
as she crosses the river

he reads time in the swaying of trees
and when, in the night, each star dies

"Neighbourhood Watch is rubbish, how can a meerkat
see off a rottweiler?” I was dreaming at a beermat
of being Wat Tyler in a medieval queer hat,
spread-eagled on a castle

When I think about what could have been
When I think about what I've missed,
When I think, I see your face.
To see your face, To hear your voice and to read your words,

When I saw this, I thought of you
When I saw this, Thats when I knew

The love I feel inside, I can no longer hide

When I saw this, I thought of you
When I saw this, I knew it true

We are that four – like Shakespeare’s and Lear’s women –
indefatigable, combined; two of us are sharp,
one wayward, one looking the other way.