A Cup Of Light
I’m giving you a cup of light.
It’s dark on the outside
but
the darkness can’t penetrate
inside.
Just look how it shines
from the inside out.
Sip from it.
Let it light you up
from the inside out.
I’m giving you a cup of light
to replace the glass of dark.
Glass lets the darkness through
from the inside out
and the outside in,
lets it penetrate.
Let’s break your glass of dark
beyond repair
and sip from my cup of light.
On The Inside
The circles are in such a tangle
it’s impossible to explore them
impossible to see what’s inside
impossible to plumb their depths
the coloured threads of a life
intertwined.
So I’m left with the outside
which is much simpler
much clearer
much duller
less colourful
and yet still
incomprehensible.
Sometimes
even when things are straightened
and appear clear
I can’t make sense of them
can’t manage to join the dots
and the dashes
and the tangles are more beautiful
which seems to be important.
The colourful threads of a life
intertwined round and round
on the inside of my head.
Cover The Mirrors
All the mirrors were covered
every night
in my grandmother’s house
draped with coloured cloths
like the budgie’s cage.
She was worried
that a soul might wander
and be sucked into the reflective glass
and she thought
the souls of dreamers were very vulnerable.
I thought that the budgie must be covered
because at night
even with the door closed,
his soul might fly the cage
and
disappear into the mirror.
Sometimes she forgot to cover the cage,
though never the mirrors
and then
I would examine the mirrors carefully
to check that it was me in there
and not his feathered soul.
Then
I would check his cage to make sure
that he was still inside
with his soul intact
She told me not to worry
that his cage was only covered
to make it dark
so he would sleep.
But I didn’t believe her.
It made no sense
if it was dark anyway.
So I always checked
the mirrors.
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A Disappointing Day
If they hadn’t asked her
to smell the nice scent.
If she hadn’t remembered
the scent from before.
There would have been
no screams, no stamping
up and down on the trolley.
The nurse would still
have her cap on
and the doctor would have
no fist or feet marks
on his white coat,
no red hand mark
on his pale cheek.
There would have been
no shock, horror reports
to those who had put away
Red Riding Hood
and were waiting
anxiously for news
of their little girl.
But they did ask her.
They did ask her.
The scent wasn’t nice.
She knew it.
And there was no ice cream
afterwards either.
They’d lied about that
as well.
A disappointing day.
The Revolution Is Postponed
The revolution is postponed
until the towels are on,
so they once said.
Until
last orders had been called
and the beer pumps
covered
with towels
to make it clear
that they would be pulled no more
that night,
ten minutes drinking up time
then it was,
“do your talking
while you’re walking”,
we’ve had your money, now piss off,
and a beery smokey exit.
Unless
there was a lock-in
in which case the revolution
would be postponed again.
Now they’re open all hours.
There’s no last orders,
no need of towels
to cover the pumps.
No ten minutes
allowed to drink up.
They’re open all hours
and the revolution is postponed.
Again.
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Parrots
It was a large structure, metal and conical shaped
perhaps an arbour awaiting it’s climbing plants
or a cage for a very large bird.
It seemed empty
unless something was hiding in the undergrowth.
I asked the woman sitting reading in the garden,
“Do you have a parrot?”
“I’ve got two”, she answered.
I peered into the structure
and looked at her questioningly.
“Oh, they’re not there now, they’ve gone out.
One’s round next door
don’t know where the other one is!
When it’s a nice day they go for a wander”
Well, it really was a beautiful day!
