A Few More Poems

By | September 7, 2021

Not In the Mood

  

You can’t turn it on and off like a tap,

you’re either grabbed by the throat,

a rabbit cornered by a hungry stoat,

or you’re totally lost without a map.

 

This is the way when a pristine sheet

of white paper stares back at you,

daring you to commit a word or two,

to launch a line with a promising beat.

 

Sadly, there’s no inspiration here,

just an obstinate will to transcribe

a thought or two about a tribe

of would-be poets lacking a seer.

 

So these poor verses just fizzle out

drift to a halt, wobble and stall,

cower low behind the nearest wall,

emitting a whimper, not a shout.

 

 

Cells and Stuff

  

I’m not minded to lose much sleep

over definitions and theories of life,

not through a lack of interest

in the genesis of stuff that divides

its way to me and what I have for tea,

but because I see human finitude

for what it is and pretends to be.

 

Now don’t go getting me wrong:

I’m a fan of biologists who set off

from the cell – their atom – plotting

from lab to lab, hunch to hunch,

refining what’s what and who’s who;

no, I’m all for the scientific project!

 

What I’m trying to say is simple,

a narrative to preserve our sanity:

it’s that we shouldn’t beat ourselves

up over stuff always just out of reach;

let’s stick to the science of wondrous

enigmas and chill with fallibility.

 

 

Bad Genes

  

Mother said father lost his oomph

when he returned from war service

checking contraband in Trinidad;

well, I seem to have inherited a little

of his inertia.

 

It’s not that I’m lazy – I think – more

that my attention is foreshortened

when confronted by the day-to-day

duties of living what others see

as comfortable lives.

 

I can read and write with iron will

and stamina, lost in that nebulous

world of ideas and theories for hours,

privileging Bhaskar’s real over

everyday events.

 

Ok, I confess that daily skirmishes

with mundanity leave minor scars

on my conscience, and I’m not averse

to sociologies of everyday life,

but ‘doing it’ is different.

 

Who makes those rules I infringe

against I ask? And who determines

what punishment to be metred out

to bemused innocents like me

who just want space?

 

I appreciate the need for housework

but who says how much and when?

Dirt, it seems, reappears at will,

And as Wittgenstein argued, there’s no

possibility of cleanliness without it.

 

Some dirt should be minimised,

Scrubbed, scraped, dissolved,

swept under a carpet at least,

but much of it is a harmless affront

to the frankly overly zealous.

 

So let’s compromise our way

to lives midway between responsibility

and, it you insist, irresponsibility:

I won’t call you lazy if you don’t think,

plus I’ll hoover now and again.

 

 

Mixing Senses

  

At first thought you have to be a recipient of faulty wiring

to see sounds, hear the wallflower smudge its way to colour,

feel a loved one setting off on the long journey home;

but this is nonsense: becoming a poet performs this trick.

 

Have you never stretched to your finger tips and touched

the choral leaves of Spring, or the nubile date-red lips

of those rosebuds scrabbling loosely up the garden fence?

Can you not hear the fleshy greens, the coloured gems?

 

Ears can learn to see seas combing pebbles on the beach

and sharp eyes to message emotions to tingle the skin;

in quiet moments if you hold your breath the clean odour

of winter translates into a comforting sense of wellbeing.

 

 

Sex

  

Sex is the strangest thing,

not a gem, more like bling,

a white-hot consuming fire

taking you down to the wire

before its flames burn out.

 

There’s the hors d’oeuvre

if you’ve got the nerve,

plus the skill to fumble

before the fateful tumble

into consummation.

 

Maybe its best to abandon

thought, to mount a tandem

toward a crimson sunset,

but I’d be reluctant to bet

against a postmortum.

 

Ah well, nothing to be done

lest it spoils the fun,

so ditch the brain and park

and ride till all is done.

 

 

What Do You Want to Be Lad?

 

‘What do you want to be, lad?’

he said, the way teachers do.

O-levels loomed close, so I had

to choose, but I hadn’t a clue.

 

Problem was there were boats

to burn if you got it wrong,

A-levels wouldn’t play host

to careers scorned the most.

 

So cavalierly I tossed my hat in

for a respectable well-paid plan,

said ‘solicitor, sir’, and Latin

was price to pay to be that man.

 

Hannibal crossed the peak

his elephants to the fore,

while I sat at my desk, weak

with the prospect of law

and loathing my Latin Primer.

 

I elected A-levels for pleasure,

opting for English, History

and Economics to measure

my fitness for that mystery

that was to be my future.

 

Plumbing the depths I retook

two A-levels, earning myself

a breathing space to look

further afield for wealth

enough to feed a family.

 

And so belatedly I went

to Surrey University to read

Human Sciences, now bent

on diligent study to lead

to an academic career.

 

So, looking back, not knowing

what to do or be was okay,

and I can say without crowing

that I benefited from a delay

in fateful decision-making.

 

‘What do you want to be lad?’

My advice to most lads now

would be that it’s not so bad

to say, with furrowed brow,

‘I haven’t a clue yet sir.’

 

 

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