as eyes seize it
it is mid summer
the sun is in the bedroom
a brief encounter
yellow flower
against a blue wall
on a sunny day
last day of june
the windfall apples
woke the cat
the sitter said
his words were a canvas
that the artist caught
phoenix
from the palimpsest
of names
rejections
building a wall but
leaving a window
1955
spider in a banana box
foreign travel
eye is watering
talking to the tomatoes
in the greenhouse
eventually
after living
he died
and was forgotten
obituary
written on a park bench
time sits heavily
marooned
ten thousand moons
jellyfish !
ten million zillion
washed up jellyfish moons
on a storm beach
somewhere
in autumn’s foreign feel
it is forever summer
after our sake
we all peed in the pond
the sound of waters
screening
park in the pay and display
not two abreast
always in wales
the armour of named mountains
so near and so far
this rainy day
longing to be somewhere
where butterflies jig
under the lighthouse
within the curl of a wave
darkness beckons
deep
in a dark wood
a bell calls
spring
A wormhole in Wales?
R S Thomas and Dylan Thomas.
In a vortex of words.
in the cemetery
a shopping list
bonus points
gone to seed
under the castle walls
summer grasses
even now
when the birds are dying
we still sing
from the past
even the tears have tears
my sons
every beach
a rock with a name
called local
breakfast
breezing the sunday papers
with lobelia
see this
don’t you dare think it
pussy cat
the slow dance
of this stick’s fallen shadow
is dawning on me
thunderhead
on the orange lamppost
a wood pigeon
some crows are hanging
in the mist of a sun-moon
like frogspawn
a broken wheel
off a red wheelbarrow
on a torn page
learning their limits
they pushed them further
and became tomorrow
now my aunt said
i can see her now
she said
she is a grown woman
now my lost child she said
thunder
the cat moves from her sunbeam
onto her chair
a verse
at the end of a branch
one leaf
pale sky
see the fast clouds
of tomorrow
having seen
the world for what it is
disconsolation
one of life’s feathers
on humour’s trajectory
a floating raptor
in the low mist
a gentle rain is closing
distant hammering
in passing the lament of the last underpass
my mood
all along the tideline
it explains
the rooks caw
as the refuse lorry reverses
both speak welsh
in between
breakfast and coffee cakes
haiku writing time
not wanting to die
he kept both his eyes open
we closed them
this snow
peeling from the sky
tangerines
the cat’s back
presented with aplomb
so now you know
hot night
no bedclothes
curtains open
spider
where are you going tonight
my friend
morning cherries
visiting birds are shitting
on a pink Buddha
warm cherries
just right in the morning sun
here taste one
that rat again
in the saucepan cupboard
has nibbled the soap
rushing to an exhibition
of myself by myself
alone
i could be
before the death pops up
toast
petrol fumes
the neighbour’s gardener
cuts her hedge
it grows so much these days
it must be global heating
jellyfish
mistaking a swimmer’s breast
rash judgement
Good God no He said to Himself
our two tears
running down morning’s window
recombine
we are making time
i the pendulum of you
making time for me
the fence
fell into the bay
during a storm
sea breeze
slipping through my fingers
memories
sunrise
stroking the cat
and the pagoda
will someone read it
on a distant world one day
this poem
life is all about
the movement of the waters
so many disguises
old lady
telling an old lady
sometimes they don’t work
june ~ all is green apples brown sparrows
fishy
a chip on my shoulder
deep afraid
sea wall
rambling rose
wet evening
there was this poet
walking along a time line
meeting many friends
i mean
how can i lose a pocket
- that’s my coat!
counterpoint
being alone with the sea
together
after the rain
the cobwebs shine
briefly
retrospective
so many ways of being
foolish
reflecting
upon a reflection
inadvertently
the sea sometimes
listening in the mist
is just enough
poppies
by the red post
tall grass
a tall story is
running out of memory
when time is short
a stranger
taking tea with me
is soon my friend
floating under the tor
on a summer’s day
life at full tide
high summer
nettles
at a gate
tall grasses
superseded
the flies
in this field
have never seen a city
on this beach
steep path
a breath in my shoe
shiny rocks
dusk
a dog starts barking
lone seagull
conversations
in the beer garden
plastic flowers
the sun
reflecting off my tea
into the lobelia
in a town
called serendipity
windows
storm
does the moth see the rain
or feel the motion
is it seeking the light
that is dancing for you
they will say
the complete poems
one day
after all
it’s only a place
we return to
a reproduction
of a counterfeit
probably isn’t
the initial journey
taken by so many
won by one
they sit there still
memories under the trees
of a punt arriving
and yet i love them
the door step orphan poems
cup of tea?
finishing
considering a journey
is a start
just closer
yesterday further away
longing longer
a little tree
can have a big shadow
in the right light
five o’clock
all the bikes lined up
in the nursery
along the fence
rattling a sticK
back to my childhood
hot day
yellow flowers
above the red tiles
the shadow of a gate
has stopped
above the arum lilies
white clouds have stopped
my walk
abdominal aorta
the pool in my belly button
sinus rhythm
surfer the little chilblains to come unto the sea
i am shivering
in a predicted heat wave
- weather forecaster?
my followers
it’s what follows that counts
the love of your words
the die is cast
in the rolling hills of perception
grey matters
the pathologist
in the library
is turning corners
mum
the thesis of eternity
reoccurring
well meaning
lower your expectations
and raise a smile
is moving
downwards
no solace in the solstice
of this turning
chance encounter
in the castle orchard
- a poet!
tea bags in the pot?
is the toaster switched on?
seventy three
all of those shells
slowly becoming sand
for my toes
paintbox
summer has coloured me
in scent
daisies
between the gravestones
spring turns to summer
in a sunny spot
a wood pigeon waiting
to die
that song
tweaking the neurones
of was
the end of days
you know the saddest thing
no one will ever know
light falls the same
on the pollen grasses
and fecund nettles
down the other side
of the bell curve of life
my painful shoulder
kaleidoscope
the normal things of morning
simply are not
such lunacy is
the gift of childhood given
to an old man
it was a lie
i was sold yesterday
as tomorrow
to a child
a puddle is an ocean
setting sail
everywhere
a child on a tricycle
turning
waves
the familiar anonymity
of these thoughts
sparrows
nesting in the temple
shitting everywhere
a child
at the very edge of lost
discovers
the meaning of home
the meaning of leaving
after her swim
the girl checks her smart phone
the dumb tide goes out
plum haiku
a sparrow
is pecking greenfly
in our plum tree
my plum tree
who will own it
when i am dead
plums ripening
hurry up please
?tomorrow"
reaching up
to the bending plum tree
at harvest time
last year
there were so many
plums
strimmer
is insisting
i listen
deep sea
high above
thoughts
a gift
from a poet to a poet
a poem
there is that place
and you know where it is
where we always go
the waitress with big tits
is trying to balance a huge tray
oh i say ~ careful now!
oh dear oh dear me
i’ve missed the whole jubilee
but never mind eh
this painting is
so good that i need not look
for i know it
four cats
why four art thou
cardboard
all the way from the amazon
dawn delivery
sweeping up leaves
the sunspots where they lie
dappling thoughts
defibrillator
on the church wall graffiti
~ Lazarus
dear god
i just slept longer than the cat
~ big swim
the scientist
with tattoos and piercing
peer reviewed
the cat
is washing over her ears
- visitors!
even when relaxed
washing all her cares away
always alert
the honours
for they who want no honours
but are honoured
to do list
i seem to have lost it
never mind
i can’t remember
not having a memory
my child