I went to Penally and,

caught down poems,

from the land, and the sea, and the sky,

A Viagra for the lack of words,

When words from life run dry.

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Penally beach path

Black plastic dog shit bags,

Strewn with carless abandon

‘Gainst clear, blue sky

And cold, fresh breeze,

A black stain,

Tarnish on the Pembrooke,

beauty ways,

You inconsiderate

selfish, dog shit vandal,

lacking sense,

where sensitivity should engage your being,

Amongst such

elemental wonder.

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Low ripples creep in eager waves,

Reclaiming grains of wind-blown sand,

To lay them flat within the damp, cemented matrix,

By degree, each one,

In exposed space,

Is over-run,

Again with water weight,

Where fine currents caress and roll,

The grains that had once been free.

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And so I walked the full extent of the tide,

To where once-fronds of bladder wrack lie,

Fallen branches where air balloons find their specific gravity awry,

A rippling sandscape sculpt by rolling water,

Carpeted with greening algal strands plumose in the quiescent remaining pools,

Seagulls at the edge,

Scouring newly exposed beach,

Beneath the dark-faced island.

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Bright sunshine falls across grass fountains,

Sparkling against the dark green sod,

And dune crakes chorus their fishwife chatter,

Conversation with talking but no listening,

Sweet trill and chaff and coarse, guttural croak,

Pervades the furrowed dunes,

Whilst sea falls in wavelets upon the shore,

At pre-turn flat sea,

Beneath the dark faced island.

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How evil is the mind of Man,

To do the things, as we all can,

Our evolution and history to refuse,

With inhuman profanity and abuse.

The nazis, to the Poles and Jews,

Set a raging firestorm loose,

They laughing, gay with callous calm,

Teased and tortured with unremitting charm,

Destroyed race and ravaged life,

Gorged upon others agony and strife,

To plant their o...

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Responsibility          

Responsibility is an evil friend,

It won’t let you walk away less you offend,

You stop and serve – your duty do,

For the benefit of those who would spit on you,

and for those you know in need,

and, for those who helped you indeed,

Responsibility is an evil friend,

It will destroy you in the end.

I’ve be...

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They stand,

Hand-in-hand,

In their elder days,

absorbing view of sea, of sky, of sand,

of bird, of wave of weed,

Sky to the horizon,

Looking forward,

Peace, a shroud of the land,

surrounding them,

enshrining them,

At peace together in

their Elder Days.

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Flat chimes ring out,

As hammers beat gainst metal forged in mankind’s heat,

Singing village tunes over river and hill,

As sunlight beams burn where mist lingers still.

The call rings out from hamlet village and town,

We are here, know us by this resound,

Like feral packs at bay sounding out,

The familial call of belonging-metal signals about.

Then the bell dance ...

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They tell me that my sandwiches are,

’hand-crafted’,

a pointless phrase,

written,

by a box designer,

image re-definer,

 ad-man.

‘Made by hand’, would do for me.

Not

‘hand-crafted’,

(which means someone grafted, to learn the apprenticed skills, to do a trade,

made in centuries to perfection),

but a sarnie,

 put on bread,

by a plastic gloved,

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Porridge

In the morning

make sure I calculate

precise,

Flat packet grains compress

into calibrated measure,

To be levelled

then dispensed,

With milk added to twice the degree,

Stirred,

Placed in microwave,

A minute of vibrational rotation.

Stirred,

Returned for half the spell of time.

Withdrawn,

Stirred.

Seed topping on the milky mass,

Insalt...

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It’s so nice to receive your greeting,

From so far away,

I’ve often felt you tickle,

As Earth and Moon do play.

But I suppose cus you’re mostly constant,

And tugging at my feet,

It’s easy to ignore you,

And not feel your heavy beat.

You make such a big impression,

Fine grains in vast clouds you entrap,

And enormous globes entwine and swirl,

At your magic ...

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Surging urging, brown, dense molass,

Upheaving through harbour gap,

Foaming deluge broken, unspent,

Over angular boulder castlement,

And with weighty mass continuing on,

To swell and play,

Mongst boats,

In harbour,

Sheltering,

From the upwelling foray.

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