Haiku - British Summer

Warm days mean warm rain
Humidity stifles me
"Good for the garden though"

Half-Life

Driving back to my former marital home
I start to choke on tears
Of course, it will do only harm
It is no-ones fault, least of all his
But the emotion is overpowering

Don't take me back there
Please, please
Back to the empty shell of my marriage
Only the cat gives any welcome
In the bombed out remains of my former life

He looks at me from above
Hazel eyes shining with love and concern
But this can damage our love
The joy of your company
Destroyed by the thought of having to leave

I must take you back there
Don't cry, I love you,
Back to the man who now means nothing to you
Carry on the war of attrition
For your half of the home, and your work

But he does not fully understand
The memories seep through my skin,
Each Sunday I return in part to the old life
Betraying him, in a way
But unwilling, unwilling

Festival Poem

Walking by the trickling Wey
I only wish that you were by my side
Dancing through the night
I only wish I were dancing with you
Singing to the crowd
I only wish that you were amongst them
Getting ready for sleep
I only wish that you were in my arms

Auntie Molly

Sometime in my late childhood
I am taken to see Auntie Molly
My father whispers before we go in,
Play yer cards right
And she may leave us
Something in her will

Auntie Molly is small
She has my father's tightly-curled hair
For she is his father's only sister.
Her face is all pink with hives
She has shingles, which she says
Is very painful, especially the headaches.

Auntie Molly is perceptive and wise
She notices that I am quiet
As if that were a bad thing
Auntie Molly is practical and kind
The photo of dead Uncle in his Army uniform
Hangs sadly above the rich mantlepiece

She tells me about a dream that she has had.
Little soldiers with swollen heads
Keep coming and coming
Not threatening, but just staying there.
She says, what does this mean?
She asks me to interpret!

I say, the soldiers are the germs
The ones that are giving you the headaches.
She says, am I going to die
I say, well, they are not threatening
She says, am I going to get better
I say, well, they're not going away

My father is displeased
Auntie Molly unsatisfied
But she gives me a little bracelet
Before we leave

She dies a month later
I don't know the cause
And she leaves my father
A thousand pounds in her will

Fat Slag Val

Fat slag Val
Flirts with my husband
And makes outrageous passes
But ‘It’s only the drink’
Or ‘She’s like that with everyone’

And she’s sorry
It will never ever happen again
Not until the next time

Flat slag Val
Has been caught holding hands
With my husband
But they’re not fucking, oh no
I ask him never to see her again

And he’s sorry
It will never ever happen again
Not until the next time

Fat Slag Val
Has stolen my husband
She can’t resist a gloat
Even her friends think she’s a shit
And they tell her so

So she’s sorry
It will never ever happen again
Not until the next time

Fat slag Val
Boasts of hundreds of friends
Myself and her husband think hundreds of shags
Perhaps she will be faithful to him
But strangely, these ‘friends’ keep turning up...

Surely
It will never ever happen again?
Oh no, not until the next time

(Based on The Smith’s ‘Hooligan’)

Old Gods

Funny how the Old Gods
Come even to a modern child
In times like these

Nemain the Moon Goddess
So calm and serene
Power in femininity

Bastet the Cat Goddess
Giving love and affection
Even to those society scorns

Reynardine the Old Fox
Warning always to be aware
Avoiding tricksters and their traps

The Raven God of First Nations Canada
Tempting us into the Real World
With all it's pain, suffering and joy

Poor Cow

He's out again
With a friend
With a tart
Who knows?
Who can prove anything?
I can't afford
A private detective, no

All my money is his
I can't afford
To live round here
On my own
No chance of finding love
The good ones don't approach
A married woman, no

Parents too old
To run back to
Also too cruel
For that's how
My problems all started
You've guessed,it's the
Same old same old, yes.

So what is left
But the Dark Path
I'm not religious
But I'm frightened...
I must tread the hard, real,
Scientific concrete alone
No refuge in delusion for me.

Mystic Fairy Folk

Just as life seems simpler
Just as I settle down
Just as I'm slowly sorting myself out
Mystic fairy folk
Shopping for icecream

Just as I feel I'm with it
Just as I feel I'm sane
Just as Reality returns to me
Mystic Fairy Folk
Eating jellied eels

Just as I'm feeling serious
Just as I'm working hard
Just as I'm finally growing up
Mystic Fairy Folk
Changing hairy tyres

Green and Black-and-Tan

George's brothers fought and died
To a man in the Great War, for the King
Whilst too young, he was left to labour
In the Lancashire mines so hard

One day came a sargeant so smart
"Serve in the Black and Tans" said he
"For our Noble King against those Irish who dare
Rebel against our Country and our Way"

What could George do but agree?
Here was honour, or so he thought
That same that his brothers had won
Far better than the slavery of home

He was given a new uniform to wear
Half policman, half desert soldier
His mother proud waved her son goodbye
From the grandeur of Liverpool Quay

But it wasn't long after young George realised
He had made the biggest mistake of his life
He hated the things he was ordered to do
But where to run, in a foreign land?

Till one day in a village they sheltered the night
Sweet Mary Kelly came into his life
With her sapphire eyes and her chestnut hair
Young George had never seen a girl so fair

"I'll marry that lass" George straightway vowed
"Start over again in Delvin Town
"For it seems like heaven in these green hills
"Far away from the grime of the Lancashire mills"

He deserted the Army and hid in her sod house
And married her in the wee church in the town
And soon came a daughter, and another wee child
But the villagers hated the soldier, the traitor worse

Young Mary said "Take us to England
"I've heard it's a land of plenty"
"Not the North" mumbled George
"Then to the South we'll go" she smiled

Well she did go on, and so he gave in
Leaving half of his heart there
They moved to Surrey, their dreams of happiness died
Was it Mary's greed, or the stain of Black-and-Tan?

Sad Friend

If I could take your sorrows
All upon my self
Leaving you happy once more
I would, my dear

Code Names

Keltex Sitwell Lunik Asfalt
Ryvel Acme Deen Philup
Rola Ritex Teknik Stenol
Intakt Huva Orange Rattan

Bova Epir Solto Mentor
Warbil Egrol Niox Vishis
Maypol Klingon Noxit Videx
Bicyl Allister Crabon Obsirv

Spring

As I me walked
Down the concrete path
I saw a Brimstone
The first butterfly of the year
An earth-free flake of sunlight
A tiny ray of hope

A Voice Returns

Walking down the street
Thinking angrily of work
A familiar voice says
"Fuck 'em,
"Fuck 'em if that's their attitude"
Half turning, I see the Animus
As dashing as he always was.

My eyes well with tears
And I lean my head on his shoulder
"I'm so glad you're back, my love,
"Though you destroy me"
"As if," he replies but looks away.

"Now then," he admonishes, pulling me back by the shoulders
"We need you to be strong"
So we walk side by side down the street
Like sister and like brother
Or like secret lovers.

Management Bo11ocks

There were two main reasons why
we felt we couldn't offer you a post
here:

Both Mr Branson and I found it difficult
to hold a long conversation with you
while we were interviewing.
We both found you not to be very forthcoming
with your answers and questions
and had to work hard to find ways
to keep the interview going.
From that point of view
we questioned whether your character was right for us here

We all felt that we need someone with more practical experience
We did have some questions
over whether you had
the right amount of experience in certain areas
but felt that training and experience would give you those skills.
Where we did have our doubts,
however,
was on your ability to translate
the findings of your work
into advice for what would need to change and how.

We felt that you would need
guidance about
'what to do next',
whereas what we need is someone
who can create and manage
their own workload,
prioritise and take initiatives,
and make recommendations.

I hope you find that useful,
and we wish you well with your
career.

Inadequacy

A flint spear
Wedged under my heart

A black stone
At the pit of my stomach

A hard hand
Squeezing, squeezing my ribs

Postcards from Ireland

Spaghetti house in Dublin
Only very cheap, but
The girl takes my note and gives no change
Then she takes my change.
Eventually, I notice the smirk
The gleam of hatred in the eyes.
I tell Kevin
But he just looks frightened
Who to complain to
In this enemy country?

Travelling west
I see a man with his legs apart
Against a fence.
What is he trying to do?
When I realise, I laugh
He is trying to piss on the sheep.
Truly wild

Little pub in Clifden
Kevin has me drunk and onto politics
We agree troops out
United Ireland
Meanwhile, the locals stare
They didn't know
That Sinn Fein were censored

Sunny day in Galway
Kevin has sunstroke
So I'm in charge for a change.
It's nice
Leading him by the hand
Looking at Celtic relics and Claddach rings
Eating oysters in white wine
Accompanied by Guinness
People here seem friendly
Perhaps they see less of us English

Overcast in Uggool
I lean over the fence
Looking at long abandoned potato ridges.
Suddenly I feel overcome with grief
Kevin puts his arm around me -
"What are you crying for?"
"For all those people,
all those people who died"
"Too late to help them now"
He says and it's true.
I get back in the car
Nothing else to do.

Youth hostel
In a bleak Norman castle
Symbolic of oppression

Independent hostel
In a farm house
With no curtains.
Kevin and I lie fully clothed
On the bed with it's bright covers
Listening to the music outside.
Suddenly we hear
"She's got her hand on his cock!"
Enraged, I rush to the window
Outside a young man with a guitar
And a group of young women around him.
Strangely, I feel sorry for him
All those girls, and you can't touch?

Chilly in Wexford
The streets oddly empty
We come across a striker's rally
A middle aged man
Making a defiant speech
In defeated tones
Harbinger of bad times

Weary drive to the ferry
Home again to Wales

PS we are engaged

Clive

I saw the Trickster yesterday
Leaning over his cycle
So much a part of him
Like a little warrior
Socks tucked into his trousers

Pale and pursed against the cold
Getting at last the face he deserves.
I did not meet those eyes.
Emotion? I don't know
Slight annoyance, I expect

He doesn't notice me.
Once, he did,
I won't go there again.
Shan't think of him, give him
Too much power

Pedal as fast as you like
You can't escape
The Mrs Bucket wife
The too-dependent kids
Being the Boss
Baldness
Forty

Dreamer (Haiku)

I try to get a
Grip on reality; it
Slips though my fingers

Annoying Californian Blues-Guitarist

It's raining again this morning
It's raining again this morning
It's raining again this morning
Feel as lonesome as the rain
It's raining again this morning
It's raining again this morning
It's raining again this morning
Woncha take away this pain
It's raining again this morning-
Welcome to England, asshole!

Awaiting Second Miscarriage

Don't know whether to laugh
Don't know whether to cry
Can't allow myself to hope
Can't allow myself to dream
Living from day to day
Made it this far
Made it this far

Don't want another angel
Want a keeper

Am I paranoid
Or just taking no chances?
Am I making mountains
Out of molehills?
Well every emotion is valid
Made it on a little further
Made it on a little further

Don't want another angel
Want a keeper