Ecstatic eye of night
thoughts tangled tangent
tint of orange moon
slivers were just hazy
incipient learned launch
as the querulous quirk
indented ingress idly
still desperate to capture
though less likely
lavishness connoting mood
human forest focal point
I dream in dribbles soppy
though never flagged yet
as futile aspiration amid
hues strictly night bound
might benefit wistfully
when strident slumber
indigenous to townscape
has its muted rippled
riddle not tactfully
resolved due to blind
daylight tinctured template
aroused by the clangour
of mint medley lure of
Arcadia circus dangle
of inchoate promise known
as crystal carrot jewellery
box whose flecks fly a riot
before the milling cluster
who wantonly wonder
at collapsing fortress inside
whilst rugged resilience
that tower block of prime
revitalised endeavour bent
on a fantasy forage with
disposition a pointless block
though underbody wobbles
if left without the widest
custodial watch of the self
one might be elated finally
The Goa restaurant was in a quiet neighbourhood
a place with small shops selling domestic wares
of the things needed for everyday use
a place I would like to live instead of in a tower block
on entering the restaurant, I took a direct aversion
of the dark blue brocade covering the chairs and also
of the golden-painted walls, but let it pass.
The food we were served was good but ordinary
In the Indian style, they tend to use the same spices
so, all dishes that, in the end, taste the same.
We drank cold beer, and later, my wife had ice cream
and I had a cup of strong coffee.
When I lived in England, I used to after the pubs closed
go to an Asian restaurant to drink some more and
eat chicken with fries, but I can’t remember if the food
was any good; the question is: am I racist, or is it
that I simply like European cuisine.
There is a big rock
Which can't be removed
By any caterpillar.
It is very rigid,
Unshakable,
Unbreakable
Which is your pillar
Be rock-solid as you stand
On Christ Jesus the heavy Rock
Be patient as one day you
Will build your tower block.
April 03/2023
Written for poetry contest sponsored by
Constance la France
Theme chosen: ROCK
His neighbors window
has a glass eye,
it spies upon his thoughts
as they drift over
the rim of his morning coffee mug.
Strange portals exist
he sees them everywhere,
orbs that never blink.
At night he shouts at Americans in his dreams.
A window opens wide to shout back,
yet it says nothing,
Once he lived in a tower-block
with many windows.
His own apartment
looked inwards through a keyhole,
and when he was there
he had nowhere to hide.
Now he only sees the flutter of the wind
dancing with unhung drapes.
He shatters glass
rearranges the broken pieces
on the other side
of his see-through life.
My auntie whose name is Selene
Will say things I deem are obscene
She tripped over her cat
and exclaimed 'cooking fat!' -
My toddler had witnessed this scene
He said ‘Mummy can we get a cat’
I’ll play with it on our door mat
Oh mummy I’m smitten
can I have a kitten
I’ll christen my cat ‘cooking fat’
I said sorry we can’t have a cat
We live in a tower block flat
I’ll buy you a new toy
As you’ve been a good boy
(I’m adept as a diplomat!)
For my sweet friend BB xx
07/29/21
From a gem-encrusted window’s moonlit sash,
I peer vacantly on monetesque impressions,
as they wander every ink shade hue pathway.
bag lady street hail loner,
water colour lachrymose plight,
across the spillway nights-cape,
cul-de-sac of shadow flitting,
sprites begging to be daubed,
on some genie artist’s easel.
surreal urban pulse rate ,
spooky ghost form atom charge,
of tomb laden solemness,
sodden eerie platform where,
my silver bob tail auntie,
booked her tickets to southern rustic idylls.
she sang of autumn sunset blight,
its wan perusal o’er moisture ashen realm.
her final year on earth evoked dichotomy,
defying dissertation on that grey stone bridge,
between a luminous parade of diamond,
glitter and mirrorball municipal,
sandwich filler to that lamb,
of many bleats amid lush pastures,.
blossom facial hyacinth relation,
who once did eyelash blink,
those natural world Edens flowing,
thru her lyric laden pysche.
Alas that end of term eviction,
lifespan tenure landlord surreptitious,
in their reach cast a mural,
strain upon this tower block,
mythic folklore woman
Promotion, bonus, we believe good job well done,
we saved money let's give the rich a ton,
aluminium is nearly as good as zinc
nearly half the price that's how we have to think,
what about residents complaints, unfounded
Health, safety is considered, always hounded
inconsiderate people, shouting we are dire
what do we do if there's an emergency, fire,
you are all safe, all precautions taken they say
then came that predictable, indefensible day,
lives lost, lives ruined, possessions, memories
gone forever, no reason, now no remedies,
now we grieve for our unrecognisable dead,
they knew the problems but they never said,
stop buck passing, playing the blame game
has got no relevance, hang your heads in shame
for your ignorance not for the treasuries shock
for the people that once lived in Grenfell tower block.
29/6/2017
Our thoughts are with the all the families of the residents of Grenfell tower Islington London that were lost on 14th June 2017.
Once upon a time
Is that how all story's start
fairy tales from the heart
not the darkness of fear
of abuse from ones we hold so dear
the broken promises it wont happen again
But it did over and over and over seven years
I was the scapegoat for all the bad
silly me silly child silly silly man
I hid all the bruises and made up excuses
as to why I was never seen
little did they know you had total control
locked away from the world in a tower block
I came from a broken home with broken marriages
and abuse was the norm
I put up with the abuse cried all the tears
became a brainwashed automated housewife
you used abused and made me worthless
once just once you nearly killed me
that feeling was so sweet
a blackness a darkness a peaceful sleep
....................................................................................
little did I know the stress I was under
Until I had a fit and was hospitalised
I lay in that bed and was able to truly think and clear my head
I HAD TO LEAVE
I did so about a year later
when I found the keys that were always hid
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