Wednesday, 8 May 2019

Forewarning

A milk-like gleam through the window this morn
   Suggested that, night-deep, the snow had fallen;
Rising, I peered through the curtains half-drawn
   At the morning gloom like a bruise blue-swollen.

The air was frigid round my pyjama’d legs,
   The window glass wore a cataract of frost;
Outside, the garden’s winter stubs and pegs
   Were mounded with snow beneath an icy crust.

And no bird sang, no cat or fox prowled,
   Only the snowflakes jettisoned down,
A struck silence in which my breathing toiled
   Knit gloom and snow in a veil on the town.

Chastened, shivering, I went back to my bed
   Sunk in the darkness of the night-musted room;
A crow croaked once and a hiss of wind said,
   “This snow is your pall, that bed your tomb.”

====================
© February 2015

Monday, 6 May 2019

To A Niece

An object lesson. When writing this I was aware of the risk that it might end up too close to W.B. Yeats for comfort, but despite my best efforts that is what happened. As poets sometimes report, the writing took control and the poet followed behind. The final stanza is very Yeatsian although it says what I wanted to say. To try and introduce my own voice a little more, at revision time I wrote an alternative final two lines, given below, although to my mind they do not say as much as my original ending. Readers can choose at will!

----------------

   And from the blue a Christmas card
   From one unheard of these few years:
A niece long settled with her own backyard,
A spouse and child and all that makes for joy;
   I sent a gift that those young ears
Might perk at talk of unexpected treats,
That busy hands might play with rapt employ
   Or busy teeth devour some sweets!

   What thin-hairs uncle does not pause
   To offer pert advice to those
Who daily cope? And yet there’s truth in saws:
Hence, scorn those couples who in swoon parade
   A single chick whose doge-like nose
Crumples in squall should it due homage lack;
   Such a one will spoil nor be afraid
Years hence to shun its parents with its back.

   Households should be agog with young
   Jostling at the parental knee
That blood might bind and nuance of the tongue
Teach fortitude and love which none can shake;
   And Albion too: that it be free,
Surplus of the young like gulls in the nest
Must be, that spreading white-plumed wings they rake
The cliffs and sea, in ardour dressed.

   Already, passage birds in hordes
   Have settled coasts, the plains and urbs,
Their parti-coloured garbs and chattered gauds
Creating cantons where native writ is shunned.
   Their umma of aggressive verbs,
Their brute simplicity and gross élan,
   Will cow the shires; outbred and dunned
All will tug forelock to the musselman.

   So, laud those ancient ways and means
   Which island-wide cohered a state:
Cathedral bells which catechized rough thegns,
Parley of men and monarch, binding shires,
   Later, the factories in spate,
That liberty and common law hold sway;
Career-entwined or sib at household fires
   Be blessed, for what you wish you may.

   Disdain, though, gender politics
   Which, glib, would cauterize your womb;
For Sapphism is sterile, like dust in attics,
Whilst between the sexes there’s a rich cohesion –
   She with her grit and mother’s bloom,
He the provider, beating bounds at night,
   Children the fruit: balk with unreason
And all’s a garden blanched with lust and spite.

   Like well-fed seedlings, soon your child
   A bright-haired, fresh-face girl must grow.
Harsh winds will knock her; sheikhs by hajj beguiled
Will thrust hijabs that a pious fate be hers.
   Give thanks that Albion’s blood shall flow
Through her; time-ripened, fitly-wed, may she
Bear sons who soil and history rehearse
   And saints, warriors or statesmen be.

====================
© February 2015

Alternative ending:

Bear sons who soil and memory rehearse
   That they our history may be.

Wednesday, 17 April 2019

From My Secret Sins

For comparison here is a link to 'Three Searching Sonnets' written as long ago as January 1983 and posted here on 14 Feb 2012.
 
--------------------
 
“From my secret sins cleanse me, O Lord...”
“If they shall have no dominion over me, then shall I be without spot...”
         (Gradual, Tuesday, third week of Lent, Missale Romanum, 1962)
 
Confessed and splinted though with slide-tongue ease,
Shambling close-facedly among close-faced men,
What’s purged if which-way whispers on one’s knees
Misclaim remission, clouding what and when?
Intestined cant, revanchist like disease,
Slips fiat with its good-face “now or then?”
The tabernacle doors creak shut on grease
And side-glanced indirection tugs again.
Long years or moments later, stung by death,
Respectable, untruthful, spot with sins,
Sifted by lightning one can not repel,
All secrets blatant like a cloud of breath
Stinking to the All in which all begins,
Pit-doomed, how many fall, tolled by a bell?

====================
© January 2015
 

Monday, 8 April 2019

One Winter's Morn

Yet another poem about robins. I've written a good number, long and short, since I returned to poetry in 2012. They are scattered here and there on my blog.

-----------------------------

Lying in bed one winter’s morn
   A robin sang outside,
Hungry, bedraggled, frozen-shorn,
   He shrilled and then he sighed.
The dawn was dank, the air fog-thick,
   Undaunted, still he called,
Seeking a mate brown-eyed and spick
   And in her redbreast shawled.

For ice upon the trees would melt,
   The winter’s starvings ease,
And come the soak of April’s pelt
   And flustered dodge of bees,
He’d want a brood of bawling beaks
   Nest-huddled, stuffed with grubs,
Who’d fledge in summer’s warming weeks
   To hunt among the shrubs.

But breeding done, incautiously
   Prodding within the weeds,
A cat will leap implacably
   And blood his breast in beads.
Next winter in a snow-pale dawn
   His ill-fed son will sing;
A mate will perk, I’ll stretch a yawn,
   And death will hunch to spring.

====================
© January 2015

Monday, 18 March 2019

She I Love

Toll the great bell that shakes the tower,
Sing dirges and requiems hour by hour,
Weep at the graveside on bended knee
   For she I love does not love me.

After years of silence and grim contempt,
Gone thin of face, with hair unkempt,
I drift on the tide like a bottle at sea
   For she I love does not love me.

My letters unanswered and e mails unread,
With no way to say what longs to be said,
I stare in a mirror and shout brutally
   That she I love does not love me.

On the far side of town she blooms like a rose,
Her suitors aflame for her hair and pert nose;
I shuffle through streets telling each dog and tree
   That she I love does not love me.

Chant absolution and incense the dead,
Bury each thought and foul word ever said;
Pay the priests to say Masses eternally
   For she I love does not love me.

====================
© January 2015
 

Tuesday, 12 March 2019

A Dead Fox

This poem records precisely what I saw on my usual early morning walk one Sunday. It must have been a strange sight - a grown man bent over a gruesomely distorted dead fox, painstakingly recording in his notebook the bloody details of the fox's wounds: the neighbourhood sadist perhaps?
   The poem is in unrhymed iambic tetrameter - a strange choice for such a fact-based poem but I wanted to see how it would work out.

-----------------

A deep-mist January morn
In half-dark gloom at 8.00am,
Frost speckling stones and pockmarked mud:
The road-verge grass was long and slumped,
Bright green and sprightly due to recent
Unseason rains, though dappled now
With heavy water drops condensed
From the night-ice air. A fox lay dead,
Stretched in the grass like a flung scarf;
Car-struck, its wounds were palpable.
Impossibly, its flattened tail
And both hind legs were splayed at angles
Like the three-legged emblem of the Isle
Of Man. And bursting from its backbone
Were blood-bright curlicues of flesh,
Gleaming and firm like butcher’s mince.
Again, atop its ribcage, clots
Of flesh extruded, streaked with mucus
And veined with black congealing blood.
A large bone, dull as ivory,
Its jagged end like hacksawed splinters,
Protruded from the breast, a clot
Of meat, like bloodied piled meringue,
Clinging about it. A swart eye
Had split, filling the socket with
A plug of lumpy off-white jelly
Which also clogged the tear-duct on
The rigid snout. Its jaw was open,
The teeth sunk in a browning froth
Of blood, although the lower canines
Rose clear and savage, dagger-curved
As wind-sculpt rock. An adult thing,
Three feet in length, its fur was stubby,
Much disarranged mid-body where
The darker fur, gone scabby, showed
The black-dust skin beneath. All else
Was chestnut-brown, except the belly
Where soft-cream hair was almost catlike.
The fox’s thin front legs lay crook’d,
Its blackly-mounded pads like quilts,
The sight of them suggestive that
It merely slept, and yet the purple
Starkness of arterial blood
Was proof enough that death had triumphed.
The blow some car had struck had burst
Its body, flinging it to land
Like fly-tipped waste among the grass.
Then what use was its pinpoint vision,
Able to home a field-mouse in
A hazel bush’s night-time depths
But stymied on a silent road
Past midnight by the sudden scream
Of car or truck, with headlights sousing
Its flexing sight and camouflaging
The bullet motion which in seconds
Exploded as a cuffing death,
Those yellow eyes, grape-wide, failing
To penetrate the raucous dazzle?
There’s sadness in that creature’s death,
Its fine fettle of fur and brush
Reduced to seething carrion;
Relief as well its constant goad
Of hunger, sting of parasites,
And iron-hearted breeding itch
Are stilled; its fellow fox or crow
Remorseless, though, will tear its body
To a motley lump of raw-flesh pickings
Unless the roadman with a shovel
Take it up with the other trash,
And sink it in his rubbish heap.

====================
© January 2015

Thursday, 21 February 2019

On the Duties of State

The reference in the seventh stanza is to Charles Dickens's last complete novel, 'Our Mutual Friend,' in which Mr Boffin inherits a fortune in the shape of several dust heaps - and in the industrializing society of Dickens's day dust could be turned into money.
   Those interested will note that two different stanza shapes alternate. This was not the result of planning; I misread my notes and wrote the second stanza to a different shape from the first and then decided to make a virtue of a mistake. In the first stanza the fourth line is a hexameter and the seventh line a tetrameter. These then reverse in the second stanza and so on. The stanzas are bound together throughout the poem by the final word of the fourth line in one stanza becoming the first rhyme of the following stanza. For symmetry's sake the final word of the fourth line in the last stanza rhymes with a stand-alone final line which is a hexameter (perhaps for super-symmetry's sake it should have been a tetrameter; I still can't decide).

-------------------------

   I feel it still, that shock like scalding oil,
   Searing my flesh from scalp to burning shins;
   My father’s death before my eyes, chest-grabbed
By thrombosis, had led a damn-fool doctor to
   Warn me that I’d be next, that death begins
   In family genes, and neither fit nor crabbed
      Might buck arteries clogged with spoil.

   At eighteen, wary of what others knew,
   That jeremiad like a crack of doom
   Knocked me to breakdown like a walking ghost:
      I kept my bed till well past noon,
   Sweated if others came into a room,
   Struggled at work, my thoughts blunt as a post,
Expected, daily, chest-wrench pain, my face gone blue.
 
   Disjoint, as if stunned by a full-glow moon,
   My GPs palmed me off like stolen goods;
   I found myself with taut-faced others in
A hospital psychiatrist’s consulting rooms;
   For thirty minutes we batted “don’ts” and “shoulds”;
   Prescribing pills, advising me to grin,
      He sent me out, neurosis-strewn.

    And forty years have fallen like dead blooms.
   Bow-tied, pin-suited, in his fifties, neat,
   A mittel-Europe accent and clipped ways,
      He seemed a Freudian at war
   With his convictions; the winnowed wheat
   Of talking therapy, the healing gaze,
Dutifully dropped for a drug regime’s blunt brooms.

   My unfound dreams of making bricks from straw,
   Great art from dusty streets and half-read books,
   Brutal as Wagner, suave as Henry James,
Were punctured by his caution that a happy life
   Lay more in a safe job, a wife’s plain looks,
   Small expectations of art’s thrills or fames:
      Beneath-breath scornful, how I swore!
 
    But now in age, with conscience like a knife,
   Despairing of my brag, scorched-earth CV,
   My art a drawerful of much-scribbled scraps,
      And women’s love a thing so strange
   That lovers, wife, a daughter, had to flee
   The dead zone of my psyche’s crumpled maps,
Ambitious but unstable as a wave-hit cliff,

   I know that neat bowtie told truth – the range
   And rage of ego’s lust to sink its ounce
   Of gimcrack art in Boffin’s rubbish mounds,
There to wait gawps of wonder when exhumed one day,
   Destroys content, that modesty which once,
   Duties of state embraced, set social bounds
      To art’s vamping and self-exchange.

    Too late for me, there’s nothing I can pay
   To regain entry in that happy breed
   Of middling house, a wage, a settled set
      Which limits but a scope confers;
   Of wives and neighbours tutting someone’s deed,
   Of children college-thriving though in debt;
Old age and illness looming in a quiet way.

   Yes, even that psychiatrist, so terse
   And blocked at work, went home to warmth and worth.
   But I? My duties of a colder sort,
My state a desktop peopled by unruly words,
   My teenage hurts now ashes in the hearth,
   I wander rooms as frugal as a fort,    
      A bird entrapped, though in my verse

I sing like sweet-song finches to the other birds.

====================
© January 2015