The unmonitored video tape
reveals what we can not escape.
The honeyed words we say
in the light of day
are swept away
at night
when our conscience doth delight
in stripping bare all pretence.
The fence
is down and nightmare
doth stare
Us full in the face.
The knowledge of disgrace
Causes the mind to race
In fear
As the truth stands near.
Even the fool
Knows the cassette will, one day, unspool
And lie tangled
Mmangled
Beyond repair
And the dark angel will be there.
My thoughts lost on the damp air
Going who knows where.
The sodden grass
I pass
Where children play
but not today.
No ball
or bird call.
Only the rain’s incessant fall.
Walking through the leaves
I perceive
the familiar churchyard.
It is writ large
on these weathered stones
“man is skin and bones.
All we are turns to dust.
Here men are beyond lust.
They sleep fast
And do not ask
Who does pass
By
With a doleful sigh”.
No more are men buried here.
The place is near
to my home.
I am but skin and bone.
I feel the carpet warm as I write.
The morning light
Will soon dispel the remains of night
For a time at least
then eternal peace.
(All Saints Church is close to my home. The graveyard is long since disused although the existing graves are maintained. http://www.allsaintsuppernorwood.co.uk/).
THIS IS I – TRIGGER
Yesterday I went with my owner, Kevin to catch a train into London Victoria. He says he has to go into something called the office. Personally I can’t see why. I mean its much more fun chasing foxes and other wildlife in the park or taking tasty snacks from the shelves in those big stores they call supermarkets. Its most kind of staff to leave eatables just where my nose can reach them …! Anyway I digress. As I was saying, I was at Gipsy Hill station yesterday when this furry tease (she is called Fanny I understand) sat on the Oystercard reader arching her back at me. I wagged my tail furiously but she wasn’t having any of it and kept well out of my way and, to cap it all my owner told me to behave. Fancy telling me to “behave”, butter wouldn’t melt in my mouth (it would be swallowed so fast it wouldn’t have time to melt)! This feline fiend has even got her own Twitter account (https://twitter.com/thegipsyhillcat). Who ever heard of a mere cat having such a thing. I demand one immediately!
THIS IS FANNY
Yours disconsolately
Trigger
Give me something real
Not this plastic I feel.
Give me books in cloth boards
That I may not be bored.
Give me a chime
To measure time.
Give me solid wood
To caress and love.
Give me objects that last
A link to the past.
The world moves fast
Vast
Nothingness beccons.
Enumerable seconds
engaged
In rage
Against the gleam
Of the machine
That haunts my dream.
I am the one you pass without a second glance.
I am the one who can dance
my feet
moving to a forbidden beat.
I am the work that keeps him late
While at home you wait.
I am the scent that lingers
On fingers.
I am a smile
A guilty denial.
I am the bump that grows
Fingers and toes.
I am new life.
You are his wife.
She stands,
corkscrew in hand.
The wine beckons.
Seconds,
Crawl past,
Until, at last,
With a twist
Of her wrist,
the cork slowly rises.
There are no surprises.
Fate knocks
as the cork pops.
My bark
echoes in this dark
Hell
Where damned souls dwell.
My snakes wave
The brave
Towards eternal shade.
In the grave
Lethe
Provides peace
From joy and pain.
Here it is all the same
For men no not
They are lost
And wander in a daze
Far from Apollo’s life -giving rays
“Will you join in death’s dance
And find romance
In Hades below?
Touch my skin
soft as snow.
My love will you go
Where the death lilies grow?”
Sun dappled lawns.
The vicar yawns
As Colonel Trickett
Defends his wicket.
The sound of bat on ball
mingles with a blackbird’s call
that floats
amidst ancient oaks
and the Colonel’s son takes Lucy’s hand
as the sun sets on Angleland.
