Wednesday 6 January 2010

Defiant Love

One single flame in the snow.
One flicker of warmth in the cold.
One lasting glow still glowing for you.

She says “Jesus Christ get over it.”
But she understands nothing of the poet.

Tuesday 5 January 2010

How Would I Love Thee

How would I love thee?
Well, my love is a kind of natural science,
the physics of perpetual motion.
An atomic birth,
explosions of movement and mathematics.
The piercing dance of a primitive god.

I would love you like sun-spots,
burning licks that kiss your naked legs.
I would love you like rain on your neck,
like thunder in your sleep.
I would love you with precision,
with jet-like courage, warring and relentless.
I would love you like Krishna,
with a horrifying honesty,
with a truth that swallows centuries.

How would I love thee?
With the ocean’s vengeance,
the gentleness of clashing clouds,
the music of jungle shadows.
My love is a kind of poison,
a brutal cure for your starvation.

What's The Fucking Point?

I know whatever I say
You’ll just dismiss
With that stubborn
And piteous grin.
You’ll talk through my
Angry but crafted words,
You’ll deny my distraught
Confessions
By simple appeal to the facts.
You’ll counteract and scoff
At the boyish energies of my heart
And crush any chance I have
Of forgetting you
By unravelling these ragged knots.
You’ll have some jagged logic ready
Some intransigent stance
Some chameleon philosophy
With which you will whip me
Until the awkwardness has passed.

To Anne - Remembering An Afternoon in Copenhagen

The church-like ghosts listened in the unraveled cold,
While we shared random laughs and random hopes.

We walked until the coffee-coloured dusk
Under a winter sun through a winter glass.

The streets of the city were stoned still and quiet
But alive with the mutterings of history.

Behind us you could hear horses on the cobbles
And the passing dresses of dead ladies.

Before us was the North Wind carrying with it snows
And all sorts of chaos in its white crisis.

New Year Haiku

Red clouds in the sky
The ground slips below my cold,
Careful New Year feet.