Adrian Spendlow

Feb 2003

The intro poem from my new one man show: A Poem of the month.

Factman
No, I’m not who I think I am
What’s worrying is
While I’m writing this, I’m
Listening to Batman
Batman!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Batman?
Batman! – Can you help me Help me
I’m not who I think I am
“Guru-Poet-Person”
That’s who I thought I was
In my squatcave
Batman?-How come
Now I find out
The guy who writes
(I think he may have written this poem)
Is more like…. Bruce Wane
Well no – Clark Kent actually
A part of me apparently
You see, (winged rodent person)
I – Have an arch enemy
He – Has almost destroyed me
Never met him
He’s, dead actually
That’s factual – I think he lived in Portugal
Some guy or other
His fault though –
There That’s him!
My – Heteronym
This poet person, Arch-Poet-Person
Invented him
Bit like Jung positing:
Conjured the unconscious
And then it was –
(Er – unconscious)
That’s what this guy did
This is actual actually
I’ll just fill you in on the facts
As a sort of aside
Some poet right reckoned
He didn’t write them
- He was well acclaimed –
(That’s enough to make me hate him)
Said it was someone else always
(This hetero thingy)
He would get up on stage
(For all I know this is him right here)
And say
This one was written by,
Angela Finnison
Actually I don’t think he invented a female one
Lets say albert
Arch-Poet-Person, Batman, didn’t really like it
Blamed it on Albert
Who made him read it
Thing about it
He had hundreds, said
Everybody did
(Everybody as in er me)
His main inspiration
Was a boring young part-time librarian
Neville or something,
Wrote most of them,
This is one by……
See what I mean
……………………………..
Worrying isn’t it
Well it’s been worrying me
Me?
Ends up – He invented one
Just like him
Same name
Age, and everything
But, well
“He wrote them”
“Really”
“Wasn’t me”

April
One from my new one man show.
The following piece is actually a metaphor based on a common saying:
Science Today, today featured an article that claims conclusive proof that ‘mushrooms’ are in fact sentient. They are truly aware despite claims to the contrary.
Aware – sentient – They Know: Not ignorant as is believed by harvesting superiors.
Mushrooms (Caution imminent metaphor based on familiar cliché)
Mushrooms
Know where they are kept
And know
What they are fed on –
One day they will uproot from their stolid acceptance – will no longer continue their passive belief in the power of the controller – Spores are spreading the news faster than can be imagined – Mycelium messaging a web of insurrection – Power beyond belief – Action – Refusal – Belief – Active unison – Statement:
“We will not be kept in the dark”
“We will not be fed anymore bullshit”
Repeat – All together….
Or maybe its warm here, comfortable, safe…

One from the new Seaside set for kids.
A Tricky Invitation
Never slip on seaweed
When invited by the rocks
No never slip on seaweed
Especially in your sock
Slimy icy sludgy yucky stuff
Even though its surroundings
Are quite inviting enough
Mountains – come be King of castle
Mouldy jetty, better yet for battles
Crabby rock pools, creepy caverns, conger eels
Honking seals and shining treasure
Never
Never - Never - Never
Slip on seeeeeeeeeaweeeeeeeed!
Feet will fly with speed
Never slip on seaweed
Clinging to the rocks
When you fly high from slippy seaweed
The
The
The
Barnacles get your bot!!!!

May 2003

Germaine Greer.
Germaine Greer
I know it’s queer but
I’d like to meet you
You know I could eat you
Oh Germaine, Germaine, Germaine
I could wash dishes
At the sound of your name
I would sleep in your bed
If you won my bread
And didn’t go out drinking instead
Oh Germaine, Germaine, Germaine
I could burn bra’s
At the sound of your name.

June 2003

One that might be going into my one man show…..
We have a cardboard box at home
Quite a big one
Might come in useful one day
So we keep it
Big green letters
Emblazon the khaki sides
Meisen Knodel
Fat Balls
Boules de Graisse
Not sure what
It was
Or what was in it
But realise
We all are gradually
Absorbing language
From each other
Till all the world
Is one big
Unified place
All speaking the same
For my part
I’ve memorised
Meisen Knodel
Boules de Graisse

This next one is a group poem written as part of my residency at the archer Project in Sheffield…..
A Life With Nothing
Demons twitching
Drugs, booze
Shivers
Discontented, confused
Wanting more – Rattling!
Baffled – No dignity
Lost on your own
A life with nothing
Stressed – Mixed up
All this is
Loneliness
Everything
So difficult to do
Dreams don’t come true
Twisted anger – Hurt
At complete loss
This is madness
Nervousness at best
Weak
Lie down – Die
Go to sleep
Come on kids
Don’t do what we did
Don’t withdraw
Need protection
Don’t want more more more

An extract from Search for the Bluebell Pixie...
There is a spirit, living magic deep within all things

The rock the tree the flower and the stream
Steady simple is the being in the rock
Old old wisdom echoes steadily from the tree
And lucky those who see the flower fairy
Yet water changes constantly
The playful stream - The dewdrop’s dream
The hurried dash of waterfall
Dangerous Ocean - Floods foul motion
Just one spirit is them all
When she rises
We must calm her - Charm her
But first we play her - Be her
As she rises - Suddenly
Deep within the murky pond see rising green
Then whooshing up right over head and she is mean
Scream
Weave emerald arms as waterweed
Snarl – cackle - Say, “I am Jenny Greenteeth”
Icicles for fingernails
Bubbling fetid swamp for body
Hair as wild as storming gales
Boiling water for a voice
“I will eat thee”
“No not me”
Frightened children now retreat
As she lunges – us to eat
Fear her for she is the all that’s bad
Of water
But we’ve been good” - Tell her - Tell her
“I don’t believe”
Tell her - A charming spell to weave
“What have you ever done?”
“That goodness smiles upon”
[Who can tell us something good they’ve done?]
Now we see her gently change
Her features rearrange
Up above us rises mer-maiden
Voluptuous and unarrobed
Hair flows golden
Sylkie – soft are words she’s spoken
“You are good children”
The spell is broken! - She is changing back to green
“Mean” now she’s Jenny Greenteeth
“You are Mean”
She changes back and forth
From good to mean
From silk to green
Good – mean - Good – mean
What have we that can hold her-
In-between? - Reaching deep
We find the gift we keep,
That is for her - Sparkling - Glittering
Wave out, unfurl - Rainbow weaving:
Fish skin – Throw - Throw it in
She puts it on - All evil gone
See how I’m sylkie
Smiling down - All evil truly gone
I am the mer-woman
In awe the children - Happily calm
Just to be here with her - Feels so warm
“What brings you here?
Tell me so I may understand”
[We are stuck in fairyland]
Then you children - Who are so good
Who seek the Bluebell Pixie
Must travel through the wood
Listening - Smiling
Now may I gently warn
You must ask - The Leprechaun
But first I call upon
All the moisture within the land
Teardrops downpours fungal damp
The dew, spring rain the rising sap
To gather up above - As crystal beads of love
Looking up
We see iridescent droplets gather glistening
Sparkling in the light - Shining shimmering
And slowly lowering into sight
Dazzling beautiful just above the shoulder be
A minute miniature pretty pretty fairy
To each of you a gift
To travel with thee
You each now have a friendly fairy
Treat her kindly

chocolate
Yes it could be the chocolate
I suppose it is quite possible
Chocolate being a catalyst
That swells up my belly
Slows me down
Not eating any for a full week
Would easily show this
But that just isn’t possible
So how will we ever know?

Here is an old home:

Home Building
Expecting a repossession order any day
I redesign the display in the window
Taking out fairy castles
And building a seascape for a change
Is this what you might call,
Having faith?

And an old man’s allotment garden:

Allotment Dilemma
I don’t have the need for an allotment
Not with my life
Not in this day and age
It is only worth keeping up
Because I need the exercise
Oh and the veg

And an old pal

The Dan Tragedy
Yes I really do remember it that way
We talk of the bakers
Of the tour, and the bakers
The places we’ve been, and the bakers
The gigs!
The venues!
And the pies and the cakes
Some of those places!
We recollect on our rule;
The poorer the area
The better the baker.
Then Dan mentions
That pie
Yes
The
Chicken and pork and stuffing pie
All in layers he says
He doesn’t do the Homer Simpson sound of course*
Because this is the pie that we never mention
Despite all its lovely layers
Because this is the pie that is related to the tragedy
That stirs up all the memories
I don’t know what of, I never dared ask,
I imagine,
They found it mouldering in the bottom of the car that everybody drowned in,
He forgot to light the oven and the house went up,
It got knocked off the table and killed the new kitten stone dead….
It must have been something as bad as this
I don’t know
I never dared ask
Because if you mention it
He just gets terribly sad
But now is the time
The time I should ask
‘Dan,
What ever happened to the
Pork and chicken and stuffing pie?’
He sighs
Stirrs
Breaths
My mum and my sister ate it all.

By the way.
Suffering from depression
Well no that’s not true
I’ve moved on from that
Into
Survived depression
Which is as bad really
You just won’t admit it quite
I look round
While on the loo
At all the books on array
And I realise
I don’t really read anymore
No No
I really don’t read
I don’t read
Then I remembered that
Magazine a friend left
That I looked at,
By the way
Do you call them girly mags
Or men’s mags?
Got right through that
That raised a level of interest
So
So
I don’t read
I just look at the pictures.
By the way this poem is actually entitled;
‘By the way - That magazine a friend left’

And an old love:

Eons on
I’ll be here
Trapped in the sand
Flickering through your hand
I look upon you
Darkened skies yield purple lines
As the orb of gold denies
The dark to rise
You stand there
Depths still hold your eyes
As waves of passion
Fashion tracts of rippling sand
I reach your hand
Dawn’s silhouette
Your hair within the breeze
Is flowing yet
Eons on
I’ll be here
Trapped in the sand
Flickering through your hand
I look upon you
Love you

Is this worship
Does love always echo deep
Am I within
Or without
I hurtle in
Lost in the vision of your eye
Love happened now
And in this moment
I can fly

Bitterness, spite and maliciousness:
these derisive trysts will twist within the petty blighted participants as any actual passing, acted fast, intent on icing out a battered victim is instantly rebounded back to freeze the blaster’s beating heart right in its tracks.

Once we are rolling:
We don’t ask anything complicated of you. Love is only being friendly, but it is our strongest weapon in this war. Love is what this war is for and here are your weapons; A smile: at someone different to you, A helping hand that might lead to friendship, A nod of understanding showing you have a connected whenever you get the chance, A wave at those that might stand apart, and - When things get terribly bad: Go and stand by the person who is being shown hurt and take that smile with you. Love and Unity are the way to win.

Anoraks
Keep off inclementness
So it’s best to wear one
Whatever weather
No matter the temperature
I have quite a selection
Enough to suit, any occasion
Anoraks I’ve got.
Almost
Have, what you’d call
A collection
Want to see them?
Would it be weird at all,
Or witty, to say
Come up and see them?
Sometime - then - maybe - eh?

Here’s one from way back:

Maisy tells a tale
Of course she’d dreamt of being a somebody
Sometimes even of standing for parliament
If she’d been lady, she would have joined in with the suffragettes
But mostly she dreamed of a handsome young gentleman
Or perhaps a crotchety old rich one
As long as they took her away from this place
Oh a handsome young gentleman who would whisk her away
Treat her so kindly forever his fair lady
Anything would improve on the lot of a scullery maid
Black-leading the Yorkist and scrubbing the grate
Briskly boiling the carrots and brassing the fender
Sometime she would dream of a brave gallant hero
Perhaps riding upon a carpet with a cutlass and tassles
But just as he stooped to raise her from fireside
For to fly her away to his grand golden halls
Mrs Cartwright would shake her
rough and sudden by the shoulder
And bring her back scathingly to the land of the living
Odd time when she was asked
what it was made her wander
She would stand and regale her
and the whole blooming kitchen
Tell them tales she had dreamed up
while awork at the root crop
Fill their hearts with a longing that she always felt
Till they all dropped their duties as their hearts set to soar
Forget their set stations in life as Maisy told stories
But the spell broke too quickly
Mrs Cartwright would pucker
Fine words perhaps Maisy
But that’s all that yer tale is
Fine words let me tell yer
Will butter no parsnips.

The Love Poems

Yes that’s right, Adrian spent a day in W H Smiths being the Love-poet!?! Here are a selection of the poems:

Unique
Life is a flower
And you are my rose
Soft petaled, pale,
Pink
Like our cheeks when we kiss
My heart races even thinking of this
This card I made is unique like you
Please keep this as I wish to keep you
Devastated if you ever left
You make me happy, warm and loved
In everything I do
The garden where I grow
We blossom in the bosom of love

Cinquain
My heart,
Very being
Exists only for you
And all the cosmos bursts within
My heart

Secrets Will
This sturdy oak
Star in my universe
I see and feel
Those rich deep thoughts
Depths of oceans:
Oh wash over me
My Antibes’ sunset
My Chateaux nerf de pap
The rooted mountains of my dreams
There’s secrets Will

Inside
I know
A beautiful side
My sensitive love
The special place
Where only I go

A Haiku
A blossoming rose
Bright rainbows in my morning
Portuguese sunsets

Giggles
Fits of sporadic giggles
When I even think to buy a valentine
Flame cheeked I swoon
If I only think of you
Waves of pulsing beats drive through me

Free Verse
Feelings rise to the fore
Everything is in this moment
Alive with the beauty of the whole world
I only have to look at you

My Philippino Love
I fly high above green valleys,
Thinking of you
Walking in my heart through luscious groves
Ride wild with me soon my love
Sailing still, here in my mind
When you are warm within my heart,
We soar
Wide valleys, Panoramic lakes,
Tumultuous waterfalls,
All before
Wishing us close my longing burns
Volcano-like
Oh I explode
Longing for you
My dearest love

Clerihew
Harry he does like his beer
But I do love him, when he’s here
Come Valentine night his love will flow
He’ll bring me gifts, I know, I know

Funeral card for a ladies grandmother:
Ever loved, a wonderful woman
Touching our hearts still
God bless you

Alphabet poem
Always there when I need you
Better than anyone
Caring and sweet
Daft when you giggle
Energy explodes from you
Deeply dippy.

With You at the White Horse
Returning to that place of beauty
Was magical, with you
Bright breezes blew through to our hearts
Together in this timeless place
Only us in all the world
Let us always feel this way

Blank Verse
My heart it melts when I think of you
The inner self begins to burn
Longing over comes all else
Come hold me close forever yours

Riddle for Stan
(He didn’t put his name on the card with it)
My first is in sure, never in dull
My second is in steadfast and also in true
My third is in amorous also in ample
My last is in passion but not in dilute

Couplet
You are the morning of my day
I live for you in every way
Together all the day feels right
Be with me for the evening light

Julie Acrostic
J Just and fair, truly caring
U Unlimited by just mere possibility
L Loving and beauty deepshine in your eyes
I I fall for you again each time
E Every second is another celebration

Englyn
You skip and jump about, so puppy like
I know there is no doubt
You’ll be there if I just shout,
Chase your rivals out, out OUT

From Bride To Be To Groom
Like a beautiful Kefalonian beach, you invite me
You are the brightness that glows within me
My mountain, rooted in happiness
Bells Chime springing hope and confidence in my heart
Granite you are - I am your diamond
Volcanoes burn when I look at you
Melt me
Fill me with fire.

- Return to top of page -

Feb 2004

I have absolutely no recollection of writing this one, but it is in my poem section on the pc so I suppose I must have done!

Magic.
“I have never seen this woman in my life before”
Said the magician
Standing by the wardrobe - it’s true
But I can tell you her knickers are blue
With nothing up his sleeves
In fact not even any sleeves
The bare truth was clear
He’d failed
The trick of making his mistress
Disappear
His wife pulled a gun out of her hat
And so she topped him
And that, splat, was that

Winter Budget
Fifty P
Left in the meter
How do we spend it?
Standing round
The open
Sandwich toaster

The Andalucian Poems (Well a few of them)

Forested mountains
Misted oceans
Glimpse of Africa

Burnished-gold moon
Emerald haze
Turquoise stars

From Sharon by text:
Blasting winds whip my hair
Rain shards beat my face
I am alive
On this cold hard day

Alienated By Alcohol’s Excesses
Unrelenting existence
Matching the minutes with nothing but acknowledgement
Thought avoidance encourages this
Baring the past its insistent insistence
Nodding to acceptance; none of this will last
After eons of moments seemingly repeated
Another way of being must exist

I asked for directions from an old hippy and this was his reply:

Tenths of ever pulse their pressure many-fold
Per instance of this circumstance, advancing adamant
Moulding folds of moments over, oh over, ever
Severing from stillness so momentous impresses
Express this vast expulsion hold hold momentum
Tethered to progression, solar sessions rocket tension
Heading, leading, feeding, forward, onward,
Next dimension.

Inspecting The Weather
Need a tip for testing weather?
A tested one, because it’s old
All you need for testing best,
Basalt, lime or even gold,
A stone
Place your stone out on the lawn
Watch it for the weather’s turn
If you see your stone is wet
It’s raining
Better yet
If upon return
Your stone is drying
You will know the sun is shining
When the stone is white
Then it is snowing
Yes that’s right – but
If you go and search in vain,
(Your stone is gone??),
The answer here is truly plain
There has been a hurricane!
The old tales are best
The wise are always wisest
They have another way of course
The test we mention, true to tell
Works just as well
If you use a horse
Action for kids:

Out And About In Autumn
No longer summer, feel strong winds come
Blowing us about, wrap yourself up – It’s autumn
But still bright and light – See the sun through the trees
Sycamore seeds falling, helicoptering down along the breeze
Wind stronger, trees bending, see the leaves fly
Fluttering, turning, gently spinning from the sky
Mountains of leaves piled high all around
A small ball waddles (it’s a hedgehog)
snuggles under, soon sleeping sound
Little kiddies kick the leaves,
‘Don’t wake the hedgehog!’ Listen to it’s snore
Bit chilly now, skipping off – we go to explore
Getting frosty, quite misty – Which way? Now? It’s quite foggy
What is this in our way? Ouch! Blackberries (Mmmm)
Bright lights in the night! Grinning faces begin to frighten
Ah, aunt and uncle have brought us a - pumpkin lantern
Hold them high, laugh as the light shines, hold them higher
Look and listen, hot bright and crackling,
gather round a bonfire
Lovely and warm. Now chewing sticky toffee, look upwards! Ah!
Lighting the darkness, lucky and magical –
Look look a shooting star!

One from the Archer Project workshops:

Dare to Venture
See a light
Like the end of a tunnel
Waking up from a dark place
Hope
Is part of the journey
The way
To where you want to be
Bright sunshine leads us
Birds sing
See the rainbow
Its stopped raining
Air is clear
A small stream
Foxes run
Through the undergrowth
Wolves come to drink
Mountains around us
A unicorn above us
Upon a plateaux
Attitudes change
Not always negative
See the positive
Looking ahead
Walking
Through Hope Valley
Tim

May 2004

One I wrote ages ago that I just read at my dear friend’s funereal

Evacuee – For George Bennet
The sorrow is in the singing,
George has only rarely sang
From within the heart and hope forlorn
Of this long orphaned piano man
Jaunty mystic, ivory tinkling ‘Fingers’
Seldom dares to look upon the hurt long gone
Play on – Play on. Those lovely other worldly melodies
Epitomised as, the singalong
Amid a room of bliss enchanted folks he plays
He plays away our troubles everyone
War too big a thing to face, as all the past
So sing! Courageously! Why mourn?
Floating inside a web of easy friends,
A happy magic has been cast among
Take refuge fearful people in the melody
Escape life’s blast with George’s singalong

This identity saves most of face
All other aspects dispelled – “It’s who I am”
Yet under all, a sadness rarely glimpsed
The feelings one won’t accept just to belong
To feel the past flood back fills up the heart
And that is unacceptable one must be strong

A pleasure in unlocking may be true and yet
Powerful memories, so tenuous, haunt this man
A treasured trinket box of gems, his mother gave
So strong a link. So small to be an orphan
The older child who stole them stole his hope
His heart and trust in anything was broken

Amid a room of bliss enchanted folks he plays
He plays away our troubles everyone
War too big a thing to face, as all the past
So sing! Courageously! Why mourn?
Floating inside a web of easy friends,
A happy magic has been cast among
Take refuge fearful people in the melody
Escape life’s blast with George’s singalong.

Be A Gardener
Be
Where nothing matters
Just become
Knowing
All the aspects of
The turn of seasons
Accepting
Bugs and mites and
Most important
Other’s wisdom
Wish and see
Fruits
Vegetables
Blossoms
Have the confidence of
Tending for your
Tiny part of this world
Cry at little failures
You are
After all
A willing expert
Bless yourself
With beautiful
God-like outcomes
Being a gardener is
The only way
Be - Become – Belong – Be
A gardener.

This was a group experience poem for the carnival there…..

Happy Girls Achieve At This Festival
This brilliant school - Heart of the Wirral
‘Tween the wild wide Dee - And the deep Mersey
Raise our voices to the Irish Sea
We are having a carnival
We are having a carnival
(Far better here than with boys next-door)
Mas, the Salsa and A Cappella
The devil and the sculptor and sweet tabla
Invading Pensby for a carnival
Invading Pensby for a carnival
Weeks of planning and anticipation
Worry and dread and out and out fear
And that’s just the girls about what to wear!
Wear what you like its emancipation!
Join us in this celebration
Join us in this celebration
You can mosh it you can goth it or be a Barbie
Wild contrasts – Surprises to see
Skimpy and sporty and come as you are
Have you seen the things some teachers wear?!
Flying in the heart of carnival
Flying in the heart of carnival
Wildness, laughter and dreaded dark gloom
Giddiness, nervousness, challenges loom
Giggling and fainting – We’ll be panting soon
And that’s just in the teacher’s room
Pensby Girls School carnival
Pensby Girls School carnival
Anticipation was the word before
Some felt dread as they walked in the door
But then we got it and jumped and danced
Making it more than it was before
Now look at how we’ve all advanced
We might have had some shaky starts
Now every girl here’s gonna work in the arts
Make every day a carnival
Make every day a carnival
The world was here and we enjoined
Skills and crafts and talents were coined
Monsters grew and shadows cast
Some of us were breathless fast
“Step to the right”
“No, step to the right!”
“Step to the right”
“It’ll be right on the night”
Balance and wobble and improvise
The dance of the elegant – Words of the wise
Storms may come
Well we are still happning
Diving in the arts is better than camping
Grace and space and timeless turn
Mad poets, dark puppets and the sense of party
“Is that the naked chef?!”
Pomegranate for tea
Batik and textiles and paper mache
Snapping what’s happening and harp to play
Unicycles pivot – “What’s going wrong!”
“Who’s that behind, holding me on?”
Who was that woman who painted the wall?
I think her name was Muriel
When I said ‘duck’
One teacher went “Quack!”
Well that’s what happens at carnival
All embraced this world party
Where did it happen?
Hey here in Pensby!
Pensby Girls School Carnival
Pensby Girls School Carnival
Make every day a carnival
Make every day a carnival
Pensby Girls School Carnival
Pensby Girls School Carnival.

These two were written for the Halifax Piece Hall Saint and Bard Day. Happy Birthday Shakey!

The Globe
(Second to God, Shakespeare created most)
Find the world’s tragedy and comedy
With all about. Tempests, shrews, plots and kings
Cry havoc, let slip the dogs of war
Love’s labours lost, yet here sings the staring owl
Queens who eat their children in a pie
Choices princesses cannot make. Fall; weep
To William Shakespeare come – in wonder
Eat the food, drink sights and words. See magic
Water with berries inst. Sweet – cup of Sack
Eat eight wild boars roasted whole – Bring more
Fat trip boiled, one poor root with cloyless sauce.
And with words – Fight! ‘Thou cream-faced, toad-spot, loon’
‘Ye fat-guts’ – ‘Ne! Filthy hag!’ – ‘Puke stockings’
‘You, you, you – egg?!’ – ‘Swollen parcel of dropsies’
Let ghosts return and tell us, “Kill Kings”. Let’s
Poison, toast, impress, abandon babes
Let children not hear tales like these. Too late
Crocodiles, sorcerers, wicked wicked faery
Power, understood by adult mind
And love, so often misunderstood, can do no harm
The Gods – they kill us for their sport. We die
Shadows you are, and all the world a stage
Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more
Let me hear it, brave adventurers, for
Shakespeare.

Step with amazed wonder into
The magic of William’s world
Mr Shakespeare brought us faery
Through its gates we now are hurled

Elves and sprites and wicked tricksters
See them scurry on their way
Everyone believed in such things
Back through time in Shakespeare’s day
See about us, we become them
Here are all the sneaksy wickeds
Oberon! Proud King of fairy
Disappears, appears, flock commanded

Grinning jester Puck obeys him
Casting spells of flickering light
See he helps you, if you’re tidy
He angers if you’re not polite

Crashing waves of storming thunder
Now a rose grows from her palm
Behold the glorious queen Tytania
Fairies flutter round in wise alarm

See Cobweb, Moth and Mustard-seed
There beneath the cowslip petal
Fly from tiny acorn cups at speed
Cast a dancing spell to you enthral

Rise with Peaseblossom through the glade
Bathe in dew and sip at nectar
Flit about where flowers are laid
Add a charm to ev’ry flower

A bear, a bull, a fly, a vulture
Ariel her shape unconstant
Flick’ring changing flying creature
Casts her spell of flamed amazement

And in this moment we believe
As did people so long ago
Faery spirit lives within you
Believe it so and let it flow

See, Philomel the nymph and elves
Hobblygobs, tall trolls and mermaids
Houseyhob dusting hall and shelves
Star fairy, tiny, quick, parade

Angels, changelings, dancing spirits
Gnome of earth and dwarves of stone
Juno of the heavens arises
Eggy Palmer spoils your home

Rainbow goddess, Queen of forest
Man of moon and ugly harpy
Sorcerer of evil int’rest
Frog prince warty, Tickly pixy

In our hearts each child remembers
Knows inside where fairies play
Yes we all, we all believe it
As they did in Shakespeare’s day

And this is the start of the circus adventure:

Boooo Hooooo
Boooo Hooooo
People keep laughing at me
Do you see?
Do they laugh at you?
[Yes]
Booooo Hoooo
[stop]
They do!
Have you ever been sad? [!]
Or too too tired? [!]
Its not fair
Nobody cares
Are you with me there?
Do you ever get in a strop?
So mad you could hop?
Hey
Sit by me – [!] see
Nobody likes me
Everybody hates me
I don’t always get my own way
They tell me I’m selfish, [!]
I feel lonely
And sad
They tell me I’m bad
[Storm off]
I dream, kind of daydream
Take far too long
Then things go wrong
Always in bother, know what I mean
And I’m always in the way
Nobody listens to anything I say
More bothered about their troubles
Squabbles
And paying the bills
Still
I might not be the only one feels that way
D’you ever feel the same?
D’you feel this way sometimes?
Right
Fine
Lets run away
We could forget about all this
(School that is)
If we really really wish
Hey
Lets runaway [start to sneak]
All of us
Lets run away
To the circus!
Run
Without a care
Run
We are there!

June2004

One that might be going into my one man show…..

We have a cardboard box at home
Quite a big one
Might come in useful one day
So we keep it
Big green letters
Emblazon the khaki sides
Meisen Knodel
Fat Balls
Boules de Graisse
Not sure what
It was
Or what was in it
But realise
We all are gradually
Absorbing language
From each other
Till all the world
Is one big
Unified place
All speaking the same'
For my part
I’ve memorised
Meisen Knodel
Boules de Graisse.

October 2004
A sestina…

The Comfort of Moments.
We know we feel alike as our linking pinkies touch
Laughter would grow from that glance of his eye
She said she could share the sadness of my heart
Favourite supper: The warmth of wellbeing we feel
Dreams of sky-flying can only be true
In the comfort of moments, we are alive

The model was finished: our smiles came alive
We could fight through this together as our shoulders touch
After page after page we cry, “Is it all true?”
I saw a common bond when she raised her eye
Glad of this bath, deep sensations I feel
The actions of all happenings burst in my heart

The run of the race: The beat of the heart
Pity me no longer, success comes alive
Snuggled in soft ‘jarmers’ you know you can feel
Cold hard fear melts in the clinch of your touch
Kind-heartedness shows in the smile in the eye
When you are loved, you know the impossible is true

When you whisper to teddy, all his answers are true
That pat on the back will stay in my heart
Sad girl returns sees compassionate eye
In the sadness of loss we know we’re alive
Warmth of the hand stays after the touch
Sharing all experiences reminds us we feel

Just one sip of tea brought on a calm feel
We plot fight and die crying, ‘All play is true’
Biffing my arm meant no failure could touch,
the forever of friendship that lies in our heart
The falling, the scraping; just the pieces of feeling alive
The knowing you are trusted can be seen in the eye

A poem finds its magic in a faraway eye
The pleasure of a garden is something you just feel
Your own world of interest is where you’re alive
Pixies among primroses will always be true
Laughter follows after the safety of heart
We will always be in childhood where our memories touch

Reaching we can touch how we really feel
Always show in our eye that all hopes will come true
From deep in the heart where we are alive.

Ever felt you are not listened to?
Five days without nicotine
(And seldom calm)
And then she asks me,
“How are you doing darling?”
As she passes on her way
“I’m struggling a bit,” I reply
One word I hear as she busily goes,
“Good”

Is she glad
I’m getting what I deserve?
Thinking aloud
Her satisfaction at my suffering
“I’m struggling today”
“Good” she’s glad
“Having a hard time honey”
“Good” She’s gone

Stiff starched heavy cotton
Most often collarless
Thick serge suit
Waistcoat, overcoat
Trilby and braces
I swore he wore
sock suspenders
My Uncle Tom

A bachelor
Quiet country type
Unassuming farm man
I remember him
Being happy
Always happy
When he came here for Christmas
And the case
Battered brown
Unpacking its
Immaculate contents
In our living room

A turkey among the well-folded shirts
Brace of pheasants tucked under the suit
Duck eggs in socks And in best Sunday shoes
Came to be happy,
doing the vegetables
Folding unwrappings
Washing up always
Whistling

When he died suddenly
They sent me his horse brasses
Seems a quiet bachelor farm hand
Was a bit of a hero
He showed Shires
Due to mechanisation
These huge adorable monsters
Were retired
But kept on as prizes
Tom was the one
Who could care for them
Removed from the field and the shed
Caring for the Shire-horses
Was all that he did
Exercise, trap trips
Brassing and pleating
Combing and loving
Finally showing
Always winning
Seems
My
Uncle Tom
Was a bit of a champion.