Friday, 23 February 2007

High White or Mossy

I used to live alone
In a high, white, house.
Sepulchral and remote,
Stone built,
It felt like ancient bones.

Now I live in
A quite different place,
Ringing with voices,
And the sound of water!

My desert house
Would crack in the sun at noon.
My forest house is flexible,
Stretching with sunshine
As it falls through the leaves.

Desert thought was ever clear and other.
Green thought is chaotic but always now!

Tuesday, 20 February 2007

Tatanka Beat

Little Brother
Do you hear them
Drumming deeply
They are coming
Little Brother
To reclaim
Their holy land
Little Brother
Ancient herds
Are drumming deeply
And your gentle
Feathered Brother
Leads them onward
Take my hand
You can follow
Little Brother
Herd and tribe
Are one again
Little Brother
Heart of beast
And soul of man

Feathers on the lawn!

I live in Catford
And there are feathers
On my front lawn!
A fox has killed a seagull!
Nothing odd in that
Foxes killing seagulls
Among the cats and dogs
And neat thirties semis.

At night there are
strange jungle noises.
Weird sounds
Of things possibly dying!
Not people, I suppose!
But, that does happen!
The odd stabbing
Or shooting
In Catford
Shortly to be
By the Sea.

Hither Green Station

Its the first of February
And I can see
A blackberry ripening
Under an apple tree.
But we smile and ignore it!

It cannot be
We will not see
A blackberry ripening
In February.
So we smile and ignore it!

But it's still there!

Monday, 19 February 2007


Once, just once in time,
Comes a soul mate.
Someone chimes your bells.
And you know,
Their world, not yours,
Is your future.
Not love,
Not attraction,
Something more fundamental.
Like a vibration in the earth.
There it is!
You will be one with them
And find your peace.
That other part of you
Will make you complete..

Tears of the earth

Our mother earth is weeping
Hot salt tears.
And her sobs
Shake our foundations.
Can't you hear our mother weep?
We, her children
Born of her soil,
Put together with twig
A blade of grass, 
And the voice from a song bird,
Don't listen.
Forgive us.
Let your mighty rivers
Cleanse us.
Let your hot, earthy, tears
Reach us.
Let us feel what we don't hear!

Friday, 16 February 2007

Three Buffaloes

When I see three buffaloes.
When the mystic buffalo
Tramples my earth.
And the breath from his nostrils
Warms me in the frosty morning,
Then will it be.
We shall become spirit of spirit
And all nature one.
When I see three buffaloes.

Mellowed with time and dust

I have a sunset dream
That's of another place.
Mellowed with time and dust,
Yellow and red,
It is of another place.
And you,
Face furrowed,
Wind hardened,
Telling tales.
And me
Deep with questions,
Dreaming of mountain tops.
While the dance is slowly pounding
And the drum beats
Like a heart.