Tag Archives: ART

featuring NICO .. .

featuring Nico .. . Around this woollen ball, this puff of life jangled strings zip, zang across the bridge echoed voices caught tap tapping on the backboard white noise an alternating love song Did you get inside Picasso’s head or … Continue reading

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. ..WE SACRIFICE BEFORE THE BRONZED MOON .. .

. .. we sacrifice before the bronzed moon .. . .. .. ..   We vowed to meet   at the grasp of nightunder robes dressed   with starlight goldenyour auburn fringe tinged  bequeathed so clichéneither angel Malakh  or JFK … Continue reading

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THE LONELINESS OF THE ITINERANT DOGWALKER

THE LONELINESS OF THE ITINERANT DOGWALKER .. .. Out by the east fen plains   where muck, stones lay precious   splendid of dereliction   a silhouette in green stoops low Piebald mystery, friend in tow   shuffling, stumbling, his … Continue reading

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KEALING .. .

kealing .. . I was John Betjeman I was Mata Hari executed at dawn thieves to the left of me saints in red robes to the right absorbed into the darkness today you will be with me you will kiss … Continue reading

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HONESTLY .. .

honestly .. . .. I wandered by my hometown station no trains run anymore they dug up the track there is an antique dealer there he opens up on three days a week to sell old things not chicken wings … Continue reading

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HOWL TWiCE .. .

Howl Twice .. . We met this side of dawn neat satchels on our backs to search and find Zanadu people knew as East Ewell in what was known then as ‘the stockbroker belt’ of the sprawl that was Lond-on … Continue reading

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THE BICKER WOMEN .. .

THE BICKER WOMEN .. . Who wears best this shawl of uncertainty  whose mind is trained of fears furrowto bow at noon – the bells of the Angelus  when blackened clouds of hell descendaround the fair shoulders of the puissant  … Continue reading

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PERIWINKLE MEETS INDIGO and THEY HAVE CHILDREN .. .

Periwinkle meets Indigo and they have children .. . . . There is a gap in the cloud today     where the ink has run and stained the sky the most perfect blue where rain falls through     … Continue reading

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TAKING BACK HARLEM .. .

. .. taking back Harlem .. . . I stood on the girder-bridge where cold grey water passes wiped my tear-stained face tried to clear the mote stuck ote’ my eye I have never been to Harlem The Clyde she … Continue reading

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MOLUSCS and SHELLS

MOLUSCS  and  SHELLS .. . . We address the condition of a nation by its social order the position of its women in spite of any lenience a Mother Mary in plaster a Sinatra’s daughter Is she dead,, or is … Continue reading

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