Thursday, 27 November 2014

Listening to Apres un Reve, Late November Afternoon


The fog, in swirls, sets out to hide the dying of the light,
The Acer's red against the grey opacity,
Merely fades into obscurity.  And sight
Becomes redundant anyway;  the only necessity
In these blissful moments,
Is the capacity to float on melody. The night,
The fire, the English drawing room fade, dream like,
And all that remains is this strange complexity;

Each note a cycle, just a frequency, 
And yet, mysteriously, loaded with beauty.

Wednesday, 5 November 2014

Self Determination.(Sestina)

Ideas occur inside each person's head,
And then we act according to our will.
We might express our thoughts about the way
That circumstance has influenced our choice,
But nonetheless we act because we're free
To make decisions in our minds. Yet still
We wish to abdicate, and try distil
A life and its experience inside our head
Into a force which over-rules so we're not free,
But merely puppets, pulled by nature's will;
Or by some habit of society, to limit choice,
So we conclude there is no other way.


And thus we are reduced and throw away
The chances that we have, to seize the day, and still
We undermine our agency with fear. Our choice,
Seems somehow more acceptable inside our head
Diminished, seen opaquely through the swill
Of various constraints which mean we are not free.


And so it is we live a compromise, not free
Spirits with responsibility, our way
Is that of the apologist, lest our will
Should run a course that's counter to the norm. For still
It is opinion occurring in another's head,
Which might be negative, by which we test our choice.


Because we would presume to know another's mind, we're free
To choose the manner of our limitations, our choice?
There is none, just action born of expectation. Ahead
Uncertainty and all its dangers strew the way,
And so decisions must be well disguised. We must instil
A sense in those around us that our will
Has had no part to play.  And yet free will
Is God's great gift to man, and we are truly free.


And what is more the waters which run still
And deep within the mind, our consciences, know choice
Is always there, suggesting that there is another way,
And that uncertainty lies every way ahead.
So know your will is yours and others' theirs, we're free,
There is no fate, we cannot blame away our choice.


Be still, take charge, don't abdicate, you determine what's ahead.

Tuesday, 4 November 2014

What is the Opposite of Aubade?

The tapping of your toenails on the floor,
Then silence where the runner lies along the corridor,
Then over Turkey carpet at full speed
And through the air to land beside me where
I lie anticipating this ritual, this need
To bond again and to establish once more
That we belong to each other, as we did before.
Before the darkness closed our eyes
Drooping my lids over sandy and tearless spheres
Dried by the fire and brilliant screen,
And my absence sent you to your basket
And our souls inhabited different worlds in dreams.


Like breaking fast this routine is necessity, indeed,
It is the foundation of our understanding,
Not just our love but something deeper,
A telepathic link between our minds.
But it starts with this greeting, this physical connection:
Your wet nose in my neck, the curve of your head,
Your silky ears against my face, this convention
Of  reunification after separation,
This greatly joyful meeting, which I adore.