Poem: Fragments

One of my (very) occasional poems.

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Fragments

10 March 2015

Crater Lake suspended between scarlet sunset and silver moon rise

Moonlight casting shadows of Joshua trees like puppets or

Silvering almond blossoms on a spring night in Ibiza

The sea: spilled ink in turquoise

Living gems like my cat’s opal eyes

Wide awake as the plane banks over Distrito Federal Philadelphia PDX

Heathrow Singapore Reykjavik Rome Barcelona Chicago Paris Amsterdam.

Home, a red rucksack. Work, the laptop stuffed inside. Comfort, a copy of

Franny & Zooey, heavily underlined in soft pencil.

Weddings in Vegas, the Lake District, a country house, a tiny white clapboard

Chapel on the fringe of an

Amusement park in Portland, Redbridge registry office.

Patti Smith at the Cardiff Coal Hall, Radiohead at Glastonbury (not the mud year),

The Mud Years – Homelands, Glasto, Godskitchen, Leeds, SW4. Name that tune:

‘Electric Dreams’ ‘Diabla’ ‘Common People’ ‘Insomnia’ ‘Karma Police’

‘Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots’ ‘Sinner In Me (Villalobos Remix)’

DC10 Closing 2005 – 2009

Sam, 2012, RIP

“…afflicted from birth with a presentiment of loss”

Chips and a strawberry margarita, Mad4Mex

Goats cheese pancake, Bistro

Wine and crisps, anywhere, 1999 – 2015

Riot!

Sharp slippery shining slivers of memory.

A mosaic in the making?

Birthday Poem: ‘Trouble’

On encountering Jack Gilbert’s ‘Trouble’ I had to look up Saint Chrysostom. Turns out the holy man in question was the Archbishop of Constantinople and his feast day in the Eastern Orthodox calendar of such things is 27 January. On that note…

mediterranean-ibiza-travel-writing
Summer in the Mediterranean — Ibiza

‘Trouble’
by Jack Gilbert

This is what the Odyssey means.
Love can leave you nowhere in New Mexico
raising peacocks for the rest of your life. The seriously happy heart is a problem.
Not the easy excitement, but summer in the
Mediterranean mixed with the
rain and bitter cold of February on the
Riviera, everything on fire in the
violent winds. The pregnant heart
is driven to hopes that are the
wrong size for this world.
Love is always disturbing in the
heavenly kingdom.
Eden cannot manage so much ambition.
The kids ran from all over the piazza
yelling and pointing and jeering
at the young Saint Chrysostom
standing dazed in the church doorway
with the shining around his mouth
where the Madonna had kissed him.

Buy Jack Gilbert’s ‘Collected Poems’

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