Category: villanelle

The one ram’s horn

Xmas lights induce a feeling sweet
Memories of the love inside our home
Little children safe drift into sleep

I never knew that other mothers wept
The smell of baking,cards and keeping warm
Xmas lights induce a feeling sweet


My errant brothers did their best to tease
Burned my golden hair as if to warn
Joan of Arc rocked restless in her sleep

When the lights are off nobody sees
The moment when the Saviour child is born
Xmas lights induce my feelings deep

Holy are the beggars in the street
Waiting, hear the sheep bells, the ram’s horn
Little children dream this as they sleep

Midwinter low, and slow the sun, the dawn
The veil between the worlds must not be torn
Xmas lights , oh stars that deck the night
Little children smiling draw us tight

Blythburgh thoughts

Blythburgh, Holy Trinity Church - History, Travel, and accommodation information

Today is yellow ochre, damped to grey
Not much contrast from the soft silk sky
No birds nor any brightness, light won’t play

The ones who act so manic are not gay
If there is no truth, there are no lies
Today is yellow ochre, damped to grey

On our backs on Sutton Bank we lay
My acts outcry, my grief I shall defy
No birds nor any life. the light won’t play

Who is born a hunter.who the prey?
The lion has lost the unicorn nearby
Today is yellow ochre, damped to grey

I think of brexit, oh the blush,shame
The spirits flatten;rise up,do not die
No birds nor any life, the light won’t play

I wonder what the loss is or the gain
I wish we were in Suffolk by the Bly
Today is yellow ochre, damped to grey
No birds, no life ,I’m languid, would you stay?

The eyes see what we fear or what we need

He thought I was an enemy , he said
The eyes see what we fear or what we need
I gave him love,but hate grew there instead

If you need to hate, try someone dead
Do not say cruel words that make us bleed
He thought I was an enemy , he said

Do not dwell where people hate the good
If they curse, it’s best to pay no heed
I gave him love,but hate welled up instead

Emotions mingle, wanton like fresh blood
Let them be till form can be perceived
He thought I was his enemy , he said

Do not confront the paranoid nor mad
The agony of their minds has them deceived
We give them love,but hate wells up instead

Never take such people into bed
Let them run away, they’ll be relieved.
He mistook me for an enemy , he said
I gave him love and care now I feel bad

Is evil de rigeur?

Why should we do evil if we care
Care about the world and humankind?
What is evil, what is good, what’s fair?

To feel we’re God, implacable our stare
Igniting terror in a human mind
Why should we do that if we do care?

Some do evil deeds to show they dare,
Making their own heart a place malign
What is evil, what is good, what’s fair?

The truly strong are anxious and aware
Letting their love flow in reason’s time
Why should we do that if we don’t care?

The good are like the tortoise not the hare
Slowly with perception ,impulse reined,
Acquainted with the evil ,good prefer

The true mind is the one refined by pain
Seeking no revenge,but to so learn
Why should we do evil if we care?
There is evil, is it de rigeur?

The personality of trees

Trees lean over,watchful as we meet
The tall ones do not shiver in the breeze
Trees listen to the torment in our speech

We have rowan and cherry in our street
But mine died like my lover with great ease
Trees lean over listening as we meet

The tree won’t bend too close, it will not reach
As panic,worry, horror,nightmares squeeze
Trees listen to the music in our squeaks

Alas, no tree has mastered human speech
But when they can, they coax the honey bees
Trees lean over sweetly as we meet

The leaves will rustle,wrestle and may tease
Smile for selfies,what’s the word, it’s cheese
Trees lean over, wonder, and conceive
Yet trees hate noone, nor do they believe

From the world of kindness do not flee


Defend yourself with fences and high walls
Then cringe in fear from what you cannot see
Imagined there are monsters which appall

Pain has purpose, for attention calls
With more defence,less possibility
If we defend ourselves with iron walls

We may have windows but they are quite small
Closed or partly open,which to be?
Imagined are most monsters that appall

Our reflections flash in mirrored hall~
And on the ghastly surface of dark sea
That we can’t defend with any walls

Are we sinners, was there any Fall?
Can we give the stranger Charity?
Are we ourselves the monsters that appall?

From the world of kindness do not flee
Take more risks, though slighted you may be
Defend yourself with fences and high walls
Then you’ll get your Fuhrer, mobs ,Hell, Heil

As the red sun dies

The glare of yellow street lamps on the snow
The thick green hedge where cats curled up to die
The ice and frost above, the worms below.

The tarmaced road,the sidewalks, seem to glow
No pleasure comes from neon lights so high
Oh, stare of yellow street lamps on the snow

As the red sun dies, our blood won’t flow
Take an aspirin, calm’s a good ally
The ice and frost above, the soul below

Bare my feet and numb are all my toes
My socks are holed.I’m darned if I know why
Oh, glare of yellow street lamps on the snow

My nails are thick like monsters’ fearsome claws
Podiatry is hard to get,I’ve tried
The ice and frost above, the souls sleep slow

The world is puzzled, minds are all awry
There’s nothing in a shop but rot to buy
The glare of yellow street lights on the snow
The ice and frost above, the dead below.


Love will need no trick

In my despair I felt that I was stuck
Paralysed by  grief and guilt I failed
By the end I had tried every trick

From prayer unthought to deeps of logic black
My  life, my engine ,juddered off the  rails
I hated God and of “his” Church was  sick

Starving  and alone I was in shock
The death of one I loved   had made me frail
By the end I had tried every trick


I felt  love’s arms around me,  death to block
I knew   this goodness,  why else would I wail?
I   thought I hated God  but Love had struck

Warm and golden light  that  did me hold
Where are you now when refugees  die cold?
Kind despair  that  made me long time sit
By the end I knew  Love needs no trick

Heart

A meta- poet who writes about the art
Who wonders if we need a special gift
A better poet who writes from their deep heart

A problem is the first line where we start
Do not try to make that writing swift
A meta- poet who writes about the art

In my mind the little fishes dart
I try to focus on the ones bereft
A better poet who writes from their own heart

In live writing there’s no graph or chart
No wondering whether we go right or left
A meta- poet who writes about the art

There’s little to be gained by being smart
We need slowness though we must be deft
A better poet who writes from their own heart

Slowly we combine the warp and weft
The sentences of God are hard to match
A meta- poet who writes about the art
A better poet, a universal heart

Embrace the silent peace

Underneath the silence there is peace
A stratum clear ;a different way of life
With music ‘s just discernible relief

In the calm we find a pure release
Love can heal the wounds of a sharp knife
We embrace the silence ,welcome peace

The self may break ,may shake in disbelief
Render us to fragments,soul denied
Does music make  the painful thoughts decrease?

Do not bury loss and hide your grief
We mourn what’s gone and those who have late died
Company in silence brings us peace

Did you see your body lying creased
On the bed below your hiding place?
Play with music, pray for some  release

I find myself lie broken in a box
 A jigsaw needing time beyond the clocks
Underneath the silence there is peace
I pray the silent music brings relief

Fallen apples

Fallen apples cannot reverse  time
If they fell unnripe, that is their   doom
Broken churchbells can no longer chime

Nothing good comes  just by changing names
The dark sky is a portent of our   gloom
Fallen apples cannot reverse  time

The expert  hates  both metre and  these rhymes
The piano now demands to  be untuned
Broken bells  no longer want to chime

Wasps and ants will never become tame
Overhead the thunder bangs and fumes
Fallen apples cannot   turn back   time

In the zoo were vultures on short chains
For such creatures death can’t come too soon
Broken bells  no longer want to chime

Shall we  talk to others using Zoom
Shall we wear a mask, will love resume?
Fallen apples cannot reverse  time
Broken churchbells cannot try  to chime

 

 

Loss is like a real and bloody wound

Loss is like a  real wound in the heart
From knife, from dagger,sword or  scimitar
When your own beloved must depart

Or hearts may split in two, may crack or smart
Listening to dear Cohen with guitar
Loss was like a  real wound in his heart

I felt  my wound would widen, blood might  squirt
Cover me in red,oh,mad, bizarre
When  my own beloved chose “Depart”

Sometimes when I walked I used to lurch
Once into the road ,between two cars
Loss is like a  real wound in the heart

I wandered through the graveyard, ancient church
Castigate me not ,peculiar
Like a bird  his soul sought for its perch

As far as  Mirth, as far as the North Star
Noone   knows the vastness nor would dare
Loss is like a  cut,a wound, oh heart
When your own beloved must depart

 

 

 

The first step

Attracted by the window and the light
I walked towards it, those were my  first steps
The memory of an act  creates insight

Oh,mother I can leave you,I can fight
Now I move and noone can me stop
Desirous of the window and the light

Implicit in the action is the flight
Growing is not smooth, it is abrupt
The memory of an act  creates insight

Yet somewhere other, there is greater might
That one day caused me angst, that made me trip
Humbled by the window and the light

After every day, there comes a night
Abjection is the cup that each must sip
The repeating of an act  creates insight

Children are  not injured when they slip
When they rise, they quickly can forget
Attracted by the window and the sight
We all must stand and walk but  in curved lines

 

 

A poet can fly

Try writing nonsense, you will be surprised
I have  used a comma, that’s the end;
How hard  it is to know a poet can lie.

Unless you have a calling,shut your eyes
Do not break where you can also bend
Try writing nonsense, you will be surprised

When I read a villanelle, men cry.
Ask the poet never to pretend
For cruel  it is to  find a poet who lies

Triolets  bear sadness to the wise
If your aim is cruel, do not send
In  learning nonsense, we’ve been  ill advised

Rubbish is not nonsense,realise.
Lewis Carroll’s  Alice was no friend
How hard  it is to know where poets lie.

Sense and nonsense travel in  a blend
So  it is that fiction can offend
When writing nonsense, you must be  composed
How hard  is  it to learn a poem transposed?

 

There we kissed, uniting Real and Dream

The sands at Old Hunstanton pale like cream
The sea was lapping gently  on our feet
There we walked and felt our love, a dream

Facing North ,we saw the sun’s June beams
Then it crossed the sky, its death to meet
The sands at Old Hunstanton pale like cream

The yellow gorse   is scented, spikes are green
Brilliant flowers in gardens,ordered,neat
There we walked and felt our love, a dream

In  this place our souls soon feel redeemed
With  herbs, with flowers, with perfume pungent, sweet
The sands at Old Hunstanton pale like cream

If there were a heaven, it would be near
The images, the sea, the sky,oh, sweet
There we walked and felt our love, a dream

We see the surface, not what’s underneath
We feel the breeze, the spirit’s  holy breath
The sands at Old Hunstanton pale like cream
There we kissed, uniting Real and Dream

 

I’m not frightened of you anymore

I’ m not frightened of you anymore
I’ll tell you that I hope I did  my best
God, you made the world that we destroy

You want us to  make meaning, learn the laws
Life  for many is  a fearsome task
Yet I’ m not frightened of you anymore

Why  has Beirut  suffered, what’s death for?
The people wander, by  great wounds   undressed
God, you made the world,who can restore?

Thousands injured ,millions more distraught
Will we give them aid and make it fast?
I’ m not frightened of God anymore

As we age, our hearts and souls must mourn
Living as the present hurries past
God, you made the world,will  tears restore?

In the  startling Universe so  vast
The Play  is here and we must be the Cast
I’ m not frightened of you anymore
God, you made a world so full of tears

 

 

 

 

Meeting you

I used to see you waiting up the hill
Your shape a cipher,features not yet seen
My heart would smile and I feel tender still

I’d start  to run, while your eyes had their fill
Getting close with kisses like thick cream
I used to see you waiting up the hill

We would get the paper,pay the bill
As love flowed out like water from a stream
My heart would smile and I feel tender still

We walked  the City churches, they were  chill
But beautiful  and complex like a dream
I used to see you waiting up the hill

Now never will you be here,yet I shall
I mistake another person as sun gleams
My heart may smile for I feel tender still

In the night, I woke up with a scream
I felt I too must die, that’s how it seemed
I long to see you waiting up the hill
My heart will smile, I feel  so tender still

 

 

 

Like a natural god, the geese divine

When we walked  I  held your hand in mine
We walked  round a small lake  to see geese fly
We  sauntered, in a rhythm were aligned

Time had stopped, the geese  in circles climbed
Then swept  onto the path as we came by
When we walked  I  held your hand in mine

Like a natural god, the geese divine
Landed  in their beauty with a sigh
We  entered  a new rhythm, were aligned

On the shining water  geese in line
Float and hunt for food with little cries
When we walked  I  held your hand in mine

 In our garden for your love I pine
I may never love another  till I die
We  sauntered, in a rhythm were aligned

God is on the mountain with his lyre
Singing of the beauty of desire
When we walked  I  warmed your hand in mine
We  lived attuned  to love  until you died

The Russian wolf is licking his rich fur

I sense a feel of panic in the air
As if the Ark is not quite waterproof
I wonder if we’d welcome Tony Blair

To the poor this life was rarely fair
But now it seems unreal, is it a spoof?
I sense a piece of Putin in the air

I am looking in the mirror at my hair
It looks like Boris Johnson’s  but more louche
I wonder if we’d  dye  old Tony Blair’s

The Russian wolf is licking his rich fur
He’s happy Britain’s weakened with fake truth
I feel  a sense of  monsters  near, oh dear.

Putin won his Trump  with  that strange hair
Now it’s cyber warfare on the hoof
Will  he soon take Leave  from Tony Blair?

The Russians in Crimea  are still  there
 The Ukraine weeps  because we did not care
I sense a feel of Russia in the air
I wonder if   they’ll  fragment us  and tear.

 

Holy heart’s affection,beating pulse

One single tear   expresses  love and loss
Dramatic storms  excess may make folk pause
Who  will notice  one tear and its  cost?

A little stone near water may grow moss
But only mountains bring a sense of awe
One single tear   expresses  love and loss

Grief  must not wallowed in, like  baths
Philosophers not hurt  their minds   uncaused
Who  then will  observe   the tear,  the  cost?

To an ant, a pebble is quite gross
To a widow, death has hungry jaws
One single tear  may   show how she is lost

The entire self is  tear-filled  like  a marsh
We weep  till love itself becomes remorse
Let  one tear out and hide its  anguished cost

The heart’s affections use  poetic laws
Holy  circulation,  blood that draws
One single tear  falls down like bladed grass
Who  will care for  this tear, bear  its  cost?