A few of my poems for your amusement.
Info Haiku
The
Library
Cathedral
of Knowledge
Custodian
of the past
Emissary
of the future
Nexus
of papyrus and fibre optics
Guttenberg
and silicon
Whispering
to each other
On
motes of dust.
[British
Library April 2000]
Ode to Sunsets
Grey hues sublime into violet
Washed stones of cloud pebbledash the sky
A deeper palette of forms and tides
Divine artistry sculpting in air
Another day
Orange melodies and crimson harmony
Violets and purple too
A silver moon finely chiselled from the void
Twixt distant stars
Another day
Infinite yet relaxed, no stress
Crescendos of luminance and hue compete for place
Each yields to a caress and grace
Beyond mortal view who sees this Olympian canvas.
Dost Thou Reckon
Stand tall and stare
You have arrived
The Legions of history carry you on
Power and breath
Harmony and form
A trillion cells
Pulse and beat
Unity and revolution
Becoming now
Crowned with an Enchanted Loom
A mind vaster than the Milky Way above
Ennobled by the Baird
Reckon only with the Divine
Tools
Bells, tubular
Flint axe quick
Slivers of sand and dust
Hands chip flakes of time
String to bow, hunt to kill
Bows to sound, notes that thrill
Aching feet on soles of wood
Wood to bow
Fleets of oak and copper plate
Armadas sail, canvas and nail
Cannon belch, timbers crack
Clippers of tea and silk
Iron drums, tanks roll
Mills of steel
Looms to thread
Cards with holes
Silicon in heat
Sand stretched taught to glass
Virtuality lands
Worlds meet
Flotsam
And
time may flow
That
no man may see
Shadows
of his self woven within
An
oblique soliloquy, to me
Tangential
to all things.
Blown
like flotsam, on capricious winds
And
still yet so substantial and full to the brim
The
only shadow play to see.
Heathcliff it’s me Kathy
Starbucks
in midtown Manhattan
Poor
blacks sweep trash
White
whales swim by, cappuccinos glued to lips
Heathcliff
it’s me Kathy
Yellow
rivers of cabs flow by, like Monsoon rains
Carving
concrete gorges deeper in time
Black
and whites cruise as barracudas do
Heathcliff
it’s me Kathy
Bronx
and Brooklyn hove into view
Macys
and brownies, espresso to go
Subway
rumbles and steaming manholes
Heathcliff
it’s me Kathy
I’ve
come home.
Listening to Kate Bush in Starbucks, New York, 2002
SFI
Red rocks slumber on the hill,
shadows lengthen as coffee flows
Angels tremble as great thoughts flash by,
upsetting Gods immaculate design
Wisps of bush smoke float through the valleys,
signals of percolating flames
portal to what might be.
