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Damp Squibs

DAMP SQUIBS

Christmas and Easter
Ritual celebrations
Obfuscate the truth
Misdirecting the feelings
They pretend to celebrate

In The Last Moments Of My Christmas Candle (Republished)

IN THE LAST MOMENTS OF MY CHRISTMAS CANDLE

In the nest of a speckled thrush
Which contained some good ideas
I swear
I swear I saw a lamb
Who are you, heart of the flame
Who stand in grace above a dying light?
Sad endings across the hollow lake
Ducks at evening
A glacier of wax
The glass mountain of Nativity
Urbane as a bustling sufferer
The whole world in a flame
If it grew as a sheet of steel
For the hammer of hard fortune

Embrace
Embrace the light
Do not flee before fears of your own face
Or a tree
Hopelessly strong
Though dressed like an artist
I have nowhere to go
There is no flame
No flower without bud
No budding without death
Ah love, to know is to be true
Unsure as a bursting sunflower
On a slender stalk
Living to find the sun
I fear the sharp eyes of the wind

Child
Of a spring and a summer gone by
All my life in a locket round my neck
Containing a few friends
Many books
Many songs
And myself
In flower

Goddess
I see you pretend to die proudly
Neck as a swan’s
But you will bend your back
Cough like an old man
Spitting in the street his lungs
I am the heart of the flame
The tree
The lord of life
Love is all, love is me
I do not need to tell you
Quite uselessly beautiful
You are the cloudless stars
You are the speckled sky

Exit Overlooked

EXIT OVERLOOKED

Christmas comes and goes
Once again no one gives me
Another body
To share the load – Yes I know
“Just simplify.” – Yet do I?

The Holy, The IV And The Milfestoe

THE HOLY, THE IV AND THE MILFESTOE

Your crushed misty stockings
Confound shepherds and wise men
O myrrh de famille

Christmas

CHRISTMAS

Not blinded
Nor stupefied
Beyond belief

There is nonetheless
A beauty and a truth
Buried beneath the dross

And perhaps our chore
This and every year
Is to disinter it

The State Of The World

THE STATE OF THE WORLD

Your life’s in a mess?
There’s a simple solution
A fancy gadget!

A Juicy Surprise

A JUICY SURPRISE

With Christmas Day rapidly nearing
And new peepholes daily appearing
I suggested pyjamas
But wound up with papayas
Forgotten she’s so hard of hearing

In The Last Moments Of My Christmas Candle

IN THE LAST MOMENTS OF MY CHRISTMAS CANDLE

In the nest of a speckled thrush
Which contained some good ideas
I swear
I swear I saw a lamb
Who are you, heart of the flame
Who stand in grace above a dying light?
Sad endings across the hollow lake
Ducks at evening
A glacier of wax
The glass mountain of Nativity
Urbane as a bustling sufferer
The whole world in a flame
If it grew as a sheet of steel
For the hammer of hard fortune

Embrace
Embrace the light
Do not flee before fears of your own face
Or a tree
Hopelessly strong
Though dressed like an artist
I have nowhere to go
There is no flame
No flower without bud
No budding without death
Ah love, to know is to be true
Unsure as a bursting sunflower
On a slender stalk
Living to find the sun
I fear the sharp eyes of the wind

Child
Of a spring and a summer gone by
All my life in a locket round my neck
Containing a few friends
Many books
Many songs
And myself
In flower

Goddess
I see you pretend to die proudly
Neck as a swan’s
But you will bend your back
Cough like an old man
Spitting in the street his lungs
I am the heart of the flame
The tree
The lord of life
Love is all, love is me
I do not need to tell you
Quite uselessly beautiful
You are the cloudless stars
You are the speckled sky

Senryu From Calvary

SENRYU FROM CALVARY

By all that’s holy!
What the hell is going on?
In the name of God!

Dregs

DREGS

And here it is again, the season of good cheer.
Let’s drain it to the dregs of the very last drop.
Thank Christ the damn thing only comes round once a year.
Starts in October then you shop and shop and shop.

Me and the list both completely ticked off. Enough!
Seems not. Start new list to stave off the listlessness.
Back to the jam-packed stores, smiley smiles, piles of stuff.
Did I find what I was looking for? Have a guess.

Which set me off thinking about us. Can’t think why.
It’s not like it’s a common pattern in my life:
a bright display that snares the lonely passer-by;
yet another twist of the same familiar knife.

The fruitless shopping expeditions of my life.
The early sorties involved knights and princesses.
Later, to stay in character, I sought a wife:
twin singing souls in celestial harmonies.

I’d read the books, knew she’d be innocent and fair,
that witchy temptress that can dissolve the façade,
I advanced, heart on sleeve, with optimism to spare,
but my script, it seems, was co-written by de Sade.

Reached for the skies, but then – oh no – look out below!
Sorry, can’t take calls at present. Will call you back.
It’s well known that any fool can lick their elbow.
Irony, was that? Or sarcasm? I’ve lost track.

These loaded aisles, I’ve spent years wandering them all;
being spoilt for choice is the curse of novelty.
She never jingled for me, the belle of the ball;
starving amidst the plenty – a fine cruelty.

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