Regatta days sees many boats arrive
some on the ferry and some sailed
Races round the bay and ice-cream
Barbeques hot dogs and burgers
much boat talk with winners and losers
All takes place just over the hill
through yonder meadow -
the barrier between high activity
and here enveloping silence and solitude

light bright too bright to look
pure white sun shining
a pumping heart pumping light
light procession dancing
light bright too bright to see
pure white sun shining
a loving heart pumping light
love procession dancing

If I touch them with my lumpy fingers
I will not feel their fragile
open the window is their best chance
set them free from their mistake
AND WISH THEM ALL THE LUCK IN THE WORLD

Covid has claimed some of my close family
and it has not finished yet
maybe if just one other person had bothered to take precautions
somewhere on this Earth
My Father would not be dying in hospital, all alone.

attraction is all around
distraction is when you went the whole nine yards
and forgot where you were going

DUST OF SWIRLING THOUGHT
WHIPPED INTO HURRICANE
SWIRLING PULSING ACTION

Concentration is limited and
Still the phases of the Moon
Insist recognition.

there is a healthy anger
legitimate
and wholesome

Totally agreeable
understandable
and natural

More
Normal,
Acceptable

Healthily
needable
Wantable

Oh! to live! the eternal present!
embodying fully the spirit
of a man in the moment.

we here in these northern isles enjoy big skies reflecting big seas
and big seas reflecting big skies
and we are made to feel quite tiny, more Hobbits than Humans
which gives some respite from nauseating feelings of false superiority
our egos kept in check by the vastness of where we live,
you could say it engenders contemplation, or a good beginning, at any rate, the feeling of being small in the face of such overarching splendour.

......and all I got was sheep
all night jumping on my head
... I couldn't keep up the count
so gave bed up as a bad job....
stood in the first glimmerings....
waiting for the cockerel to yodel
... I wasn't disappointed ....

Some are at peace enough
to sit in each
heart
without speaking

Windswept into sandblasted
Stripping naked and exhilarating freedom
to be able to bend and bend again
The key to surviving and flourishing
When the great battle subsides
all that's left is the basics and a will to live

I chat with you
my beautiful
friend because
your silent
touches
in the kindness
shown to me
move me
to speak.

looking for validation?
take a look at the mystery
....of your hand...
the billions and billions..
of cells.... that make you..
uniquely...
who you are...

effort,
any
effort,
is
a
positive.
Even
just
getting
dressed.

If I had wings
I would not fly:
I sure would preen.

the Starlings sit atop the Sycamores, singing.
the trees I planted as seeds, long ago.
the Starlings all sing together, and stop as one.
the speckled feathers sparkle like the stars in their black sky
far away worlds in a shared space, singing.

I could run down that dream forever
but I am not fit enough for a marathon.
I will look around for something much more mellow,
more at walking pace, ideally sitting down,
practising what they preach, fingers crossed.

The sound of hammer and nail,
a rhythmic echo; wood and iron,
through centuries of endeavour.
Mans inspiration; Scribbling
scratchings of quills on paper.

take all as they are
and do not imagine you can change a **** thing
except with much toil and unending vigilance
'to change a small part of yourself'

song of the seagull
free of the anchor
wind sailing

throw them all in
stir constantly
and sometimes
if you wrote it up
a poem remembered

the words are sewn into skin
a cloak, earrings
body armour, a helmet
lips like a sentence
tongue of gobbledygook
mind gone sane with diction
over the edge and back again
for one last paragraph
of living with a forced language
Until silence wraps me up
carries me off as her lover
her prize her plaything

to weave into the day
the day unfolding
and you unfolding too;
hand in hand and more
the very fabric of life;
what makes for day
or night- a witness
and partaker- even
when that part is-
so very very tiny

Some use their brain like a muscle
those are the ones to avoid, if possible

and how many Bees have lived and died
while you enjoyed the fruit of their labour.

Blood drunk maniacs are thirsty
and another war is right up their street.

I live within green and blue
Today, blue with white candyfloss.

Somewhere unknowable
unknown and alone,

But full of companionship.
The enigma of living.

Tiredness can **** is emblazoned across the motorways
and the self-indulgent anger of some can **** the spirit of others
but you wont see a sign across the motorways warning of that

sip from the cup overflowing
generosity is eternal

mirror flat shining
so asleep
what sea are you dreaming
of
winter storm thrashing
or monsters of your deep
swimming
or carrying ships to shore
safely
or men drowning
buried at sea
Welcoming swimmers
and are you dreaming
of the time creatures
first crawled out your waves
and found the shores
that keep you where you are

when you least expect;
loveliness, pure,
sweeps all else aside

no doubt maniacs walk this earth
and they are Maniacs

Come on, cheer up;
get with the plan

Nothing compares to anything else
- all is unique
And you need generosity to see it.

Everything has its own place
- a space to be in

What is occupying your mind?
- and will you give me shelter?
- a compassionate oneness?

A bonding of spirits, brief
- with eternal consequences.

I saw you standing in the shadows of memories
I wanted so much to reach out and touch
anything of you even just the hem of your dress
but you turned and walked back into the mists
and my hand grasped a deeper truth
empty except for the fragrance of your reality

there is nothing to be discovered
only things to recognise
so if you are ignored its never your fault

Fire and poetry went hand in hand
with beer and feasting
in the great halls of Viking long winters
And now the winters are still cold and long
in Orkney, burial place of Viking saints and warriors.

Whispers ride around this world
hand shakes, deals done
lighting cigars with twenties
while flicking pennies at the homeless

Sometimes the devilish
just has
to come out

sit still silent
and know
language fulfilment

And suddenly we arrived
on a road of silence

load it all on the scapegoat
but remember
the scapegoat has feelings too

Sometimes you have to chip and hack
granite words from granite rock.
The sounds of your chisel echoing loud
down the valleys of poetries mountains.

in a moments madness it can seem that you have lost it all
until you learn that you never was a good custodian
and owning anything was just a temporary breakdown

someone from all the tribes
always had war
in their heart
infected the weak
the ones we lost
and loathed
in their havoc

I  drove almost non-stop
for fourteen hours;
to sit and draw pictures
at the command of my soon to be eight whole years old niece
What a character she is!

ancient
ancient

more ancient

than painted caves

go back

go back

no time

no nothing

but yes

that nothing
is impossible

my mind lives in the blue
the blue above the rain
a few thousand feet
just above my skull

just so! many hours to sing!
poet take your chance

while the muse languishes
-in your heartfelt love.

change of weather
change of season
change of heart
change of reason
change of thought
change of mood
change of look
change in your hand