Poet's Tea

August 25, 2005

Beautiful Days

In a crowd of revellers
Half-clasping paper pints of devon ale
We lay
Flat-out under an ironed sun.

The wings, delicately sewn with glitter felt and ribbons
fluttered, agonisingly out of reach

We found we could fly without them though,
Feasting on a banquet of pies and plates of curried rice

The grass seems an altogether different hue from here
Plugged-in to an 8 hour neon fix
tapping
Away with the faeries.

Go And See This Film

This Film; Yes.

I was revelling in the verse....

They say my cleaning is the best
They’ve ever known. But cleanliness of
course
Is an illusion. Those of us who clean
As a profession know the
deeper source
Of dirt is always there. You can’t get rid
Of it. You
cannot
hide or put a lid
On it, as long as human life is there.
It’s
us. The skin
we shed, and then the hair....

Liked most things about it, particularly the screenplay. if anyone would like to get me an starting of the course present get me the screenplay please!

only criticisms i had were that why why why didn't they get someone with an actual irish accent to play the aunt - her accent sounded like a combination of irish, scottish and jamaican. i couldn't cope with her long speech even though it was beautifully written.

also thought the end was a bit like a perfume advert. though the poetry more than made up for it, particularly the kitchen arguments.

August 11, 2005

Back on Bernie

I tried my new cycle in today and was delighted to discover it only takes half an hour.

We raced
You, illuminated in yellow
Under a clouded morning sun
Me, vest and shorts, hopefull
For summer heat.

Pothole rally pedalling
Through slim lorry gaps
The glow reingnites itself on my dust coated face.

Tired commuters stare
blankly
From behind bus windows
Tinted
with layers of london;

Separated from the day
Dreaming in greyscale.

At street level
The wheels connect
Propelling me

Into the highrise arms of the city.

August 10, 2005

Tea is Better than Coffee

Bit of a silly one today, in response to Ed's crazy mad asertion that tea is crap

Tea pleases me
It frees your mind
You'll not find me
with a cup of coffee
But TEA
Tea is another matter.
Good for a natter
The splatter
From Tea is less stainful
The Caffeine high less painful
With Tea
for me
It is a drink that can do no wrong
I break into song
When you bring me a cuppasomma that tea.

August 08, 2005

Sit and Wait

This is a reaction to yet another prince charming is just around the corner publication thrust into the awaiting arms of the female population he's just not that into you is written by the sex and the city people (which disappoints me more as I actually like the series). In the spirit of knowing your enemy I should probably read it so if anyone would like to give me a present for the start of studying pick me up a copy....

Sit and Wait

Those knotted flowers that root themselves
In the deep of your underbelly,
That smile that eeks its way across your face
Before you've noticed,
These daydream patterns of words
stretching out for an unreachable definition,

Collect them,
like old cans
syrupy with cigarette butts and fermented drink.
Trash, that.
Walking, barefoot in the night
they might cut
into the soft curve of your foot.

Predators are listless
Crouching in the background
Waiting to put your languid lifeless limbs
into action.

Wait quietly now
Sudden movements
May scare them away.