Stormy Weather

 

Azure sky

no cloud

 

teacup horizon.

 

Lifeguard flags

tourists crisp into

 

pork  crackling.

 

In the shallows

dark shark

 

circles

 

gulps

iridescent

 

fish.

 

Time unfurls;

sandpaper,

 

possibility.

 

Later, rain:

drumming

 

sheets of it.

 

Palms tremble

& the birds

 

flume: ruffled.

 

Traffic slushes,

goose pimples

 

climb on

sunburnt skin

 

fruit tumbles,

unripe mango,

 

buttered orange

bursts

 

rose doves

scavenge:

 

monkey slinks

 

the line

of fence,

 

tail raised

talisman,

 

skimming.

 

 

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Fever

 

Sky grumbles

palms febrile

 

shudder,

 

shiver storm’s

fever.

 

I’ve washed up

on the cliff

 

of you:

 

body curves

dark yearnings.

 

You’re in love

with the love

 

of it;

 

agitated

like the wind

 

your eyes

seek salvation.

 

We ebb & flow

caught in the

 

cross current;

 

I’m unwilling

to drown,

 

but you

stretch out

 

on the wave’s

crest

 

strike out

for the deep

 

dark depths

 

content to

curl up

 

in the furl

of unseen

 

siren’s locket.

 

February storms Barbados

 

 

Sea is rough

all spinning foam

 

fierce undertow

 

splash of silver,

frigate birds

 

glide like

ancient

 

tetradactyl.

 

All night

it rains

 

as if,

 

the ocean

falls

 

from the sky;

palms clamour

 

beach lost

in spume.

 

High tide

waves sing

 

untranslated

songs of

 

longing.

 

You crave

love;

 

‘’You look so lovely’’

 

I’m never that!

 

Human company

ebbs & flows

 

I toss

my head,

 

washed up

on the shore

 

of other’s

expectation.

 

White egrets

 

Last night

the egrets flew

 

filling my dream

with silent sound:

 

a wedding party

beneath a bridge,

 

I a bride

held by

 

unknown hand.

 

I laughed

six feet

 

above the

ground,

 

laughed to see

the guests

 

eyes aloft

but strictly

 

earth bound.

 

 

Only a hand

held me captive

 

married to

a stranger

 

lost in kingdom

of unknown:

 

last night

white egrets

 

came,

 

bringing

new life;

 

purity

& hope.

 

 

 

 

South Bank again

The river, undulating silk

brushed from the brow

of St Paul’s.

 

A half moon

hangs below Venus;

it’s cold, so cold,

 

the wind turreting

concrete corners.

 

I should get out more

stand away from myself

watch life form in pockets

 

the similarities there in the

pivot of the planets.

 

No water,

it seems we are parched;

 

you live above the rolling tide

we watch for thunder.

 

Tonight I want to

lie down on the swell

let it engulf me.

 

No further than this,

wait for an answer

where no answer lies ,

 

in the cold undulating

swell of a winter river

and call for you

 

Dear Daddy.

 

Dear Daddy,

I’m getting old now, nearly as old as you,

& I know you’re dead, any talk we do

is in my dreams or in my head…….

 

Last night you ran your hand along my face

asked me how I’m doing, if it’s too late

to be the father all girls expect,

 

to be there sometimes, not on another flight

to a far flung destination where you’re

unobtainable: and your girlfriends hover.

 

Dear Daddy,

 

It’s been so many years and boys chase me

as girls did you, I’m a walking replica

of extinct genes…….

 

the same smooth skin and no grey hair

those undimmed eyes, but daddy now

you seem younger than me….

 

when you visit sometimes dream to dream.

 

Dear Daddy,

 

It really doesn’t make any sense

how being dead you’re just the same,

a figment of memory receptors in my brain……

 

all darling pilot and freedom fighter,

mostly your own freedom

I haven’t found mine……

 

Dear Daddy,

 

You’re so young still………….

 

 

Sloane Street

River sends brown eddies over traffic noises and the hum of London,

the moon so white and obsolete, it hangs like a charm on the bracelet of your heart;  but you just don’t see,

the breeze through the leaves finger my hair, the music in between, this urge to lie down with you.

It happened somewhere between crossing the road and a glimpse of pink shirt,

So sad tonight, my lover’s taken leave and the moon hangs in the sky obsolete.

I want to call you other names, hidden names as though we’ve passed and re passed, memories piecing us together.

I’m not so sure; I just don’t know what to make of this.

Traffic hums and you’re reading old tunes of mine, stapled between pages of stolen hearts and broken dreams.

My last lost lover left me an email today, said there was some other woman he had to try on for size, like a new coat and I’m lying here wondering if she fits, wondering if he says the same things, as he falls into her.

The moon laughs at me; the way I always throw it all away, like an unwished gift, like a baby’s kiss, like a new morning,

but tonight, I wanted to forget about all of this; lie with you a while, see if kisses float and mermaids sing to us in dreams,

 

see if it’s more than a memory.

 

Beginnings

Boys.

 

 

Boys smell good, have smooth bodies

to run your fingers over

 

& when boys love you, its early morning sunshine

with no clouds.

 

Boy’s wrap their arms around you

tell long boring stories of other girls

 

& boys can’t see the cracks in the pavement

or wonder when tomorrow will come..

 

Boys are dangerous, their love ensnares you

sex is always 2.a.m and continuing,

 

& the goodbyes raw and confusing,

boys make you cry!

 

I loved a boy once, he had green eyes

told me he would love me forever

 

& his morning kisses were sweeter than

anything I had ever known.

 

Boys leave you, often without warning,

they leave gaps in the fabric of your universe

 

tears in the structure of your environment

a monsoon in your heart.

 

I had a boy once.

 

Street corner

Poems from  Love Bites 2016 buy here

 

Crossing from Battersea

brown bottled river;

you going North, me trudging South

our fingers stretched to elastic

our footsteps sticky as we pull apart.

 

Your kisses always taste

like sunshine, light a fire

to steam London drizzle

into Rome twilight.

 

Our words paint pictures

in the air, I see you watch

my lips move:

imagining the taste of the sentences

swallowing my song.

 

You’ve watched me slide

through another’s fingers

noted the curves I’ve inspired,

only another pair of brown

anonymous eyes.

 

Light grows a minute a day

this time of year

and our kisses on street corners

grow pink blossom in January,

while sun meanders scantily.

 

We remember no huge

    “forever”

yet forever is where,

we always reside.