Turquoise Monster

Dark rainbows twist in the core of existence
Pulling the strings that set the rhythm of life
Swilling in the contemplation of the atoms vibration
Moments kicked and bitten to existence
Something new from the old arises – pushing up
And up into a place as yet unmade
Ghosts of this creations whisper
Existentialism bleeds real life in lags and starts
Stuttering reality – a voice as to nothing
Over and over pinwheeling down to start…
The climb up again until rebirth.

You took me Gloucester City
On a windy day
And I stood in awe
And how I did sway
For above my head
Flying high in the sky
Whirling black clouds
Like ink drops in my eyes
A shoal of birds was there
Swarming in the air
In Gloucester city On that windy day

ooooooooo

We went to a county park
On that windy day
And we took all sorts of things along to play
We sent the kite up high
Into the turbid sky
And oh boy did it fly!
And our daughters hair
Was streaming out hehind
As an iron fort we went off to find
You walk the Cotswold Hills
On that windy day
Drinking in the smell
Of the storm upon its way
Photos you did take
Of stones in stormlight bathed
You looked so right
Drinking in the sight

ooooooooo

Oh Gloucestershire is wild
On those windy days
When scarves and coats of colours blaze
It has the ancient sights
For the wind to sing
Witches Tumps of old bone to cling
Ships upon the landlocked dock
Where the care for a cannon
That the egg did Rock!

Art and crafts are there
At a blustary village faire
Deer roast on the common
Rain lashed and sodden
Windy Gloucestershire
You’ve stole our hearts away
And so instead of moving
We would like to stay

oooooooooo

A recording of my song Windy Gloucestershire

Chewing a cardoman pod
dreading the day
antiseptic flavour
stings my throat
Moments tick in sips of tea
A jar full of piss
Awaits
I got it on my hand
Dark scars mar the sky
With no stars and grey dawn
Heart breaking
Wanting to know
Not wanting to go
For the scan
to check for
A little life
That is probably
Already gone.

Back Blog:

I wanted to write and create but everything was taken up looking after my mum. I assumed there would be no creativity for a while – I was physically exhausted and my hands were crippled from trying to do physical care for another whilst on crutches myself.

But if I had been in a state to blog I would have told you all that there was an archive of poems that would be going out – except most of it had been eaten up with my own maladies thanks to misscarriages and covid but I would have thought I’d get some time to sort that out and type up some more but I didn’t – there was a year or sos worth – it wasn’t’t enough.

I thought my future was nothing but caring but mum was gone before summer – why write this? Why back blog? Because I feel it is an important part of the narrative that surrounds the poems – it was a a hard time and I think that needs to be said.

On top of that the schedular didn’t actually work and when I logged back in there was red writing after each post that should have gone live – all I had to do was resave the posts and they appeared live on the blog but for a while there they were lost in the gubbings of the internet.

The poems are there now punctuated by posts like this – everything since covid started was a mess – and now at the end of 2024 I am just starting to piece my life back together.

So I hope 2022 was a good year for you.

Walking through the summer evening with you
Pavement basted in heat
the sun beats down upon our heads
hands intwined
it divine how our minds seem to see eye to eye

We walk these city streets
Thinking what a pity litter strewns our path
We kick the obsticles out of the way
It seems to be an endless day of laze
As the heat haze shimmers off this concrete maze

Sweat is sweet
Salted glaze
to sun pickled skin
Sunblock enbarmed
captures the charm of love
Pigeons roam these streets
But too our hearts each is a dove
cos we fit each other like a hand and glove

Walking through these summer evenings with you
Pavement basted in heat
The sun beats upon our heads
Not that it’s much just you and me walking on a summers eve

The chip shop reek
reels you in
a slick of grease
some mushy peas
Vinegar in riverlets run
A fizzy beverage
that pops like a gun
In this dying sun

walking through the summer evening with you
Pavements basted in heat
The sun beads down upon our heads
Hands intwined
It’s divine how our minds seem to see eye to eye

In the dying sun we kiss
A little taste of bliss
And know we have won
Walking in the summer evening

Grabbing hand you always say
what a waste it is
Not to be as one
In the sun
You and me having fun

Knit a circle
Two ended spikes
In a loop
Eternally meet
Thread with end
And beginning
Tangled into
Meaning
Count the stitch
Count the row
42.

Underwater ballerina’s
Twirling in the undertoe
Synch and swim
Tucked and trim
Mermaids with legs

Insectile eyes
Large and wide
Stare beyond me
Accusing
And they are right

Veins clotting
Hearts clogging
Brains knotting
Joints grating
Eyes fading
Bones decaying
Prices paying