A scaffold pole

I’m told that when some people dream,

Symphonies, songs, magnificent designs

And paradigm shattering theories can be born;

To enrich and change our world.

I’m not in that league,

I’m a silly old fart,

I dream of no science, music, nor art.

So, as my unconscious absorbs

Gale forecasts from the radio

And my weak bladder drags me into wakefulness,

I have nightmares about

A scaffold pole leaning against

My backyard brick wall.

Poised to fall windblown,

Smashing through a window.

I know the scaffold pole must

Be laid down for the peaceful sleep

That I cannot now have,

Because in my dream

The scaffold pole grows

Taller and heavier than it really is

A grey vast iron monster

Which I am unable to wrestle down

To the ground.

So, no theories

No Symphonies, songs,

Or magnificent designs for me

Just fear of a heavy metal defeat.

 

 

KINGSBURY

Visit the suburb of Kingsbury to see

Private wealth and public squalor

Rubbing shoulders, uneasily.

High street traffic jammed with four by four

Petrol guzzlers and big new electric hybrids.

And the pretty signs on the lampposts

Above the cycle lanes tell us

How eco-friendly Kingsbury is.

This truth is confirmed as tired men

Recycle almost new attire,

Rummaging through the piles of discarded clothes

Outside the old clothes bin.

Some pick up trousers,

From the chewing gum stained pavement

Then hold them up against

The worn out strides

That they’re already wearing.

Families pass them by on their way

To the vegetarian restaurants and supermarkets,

Cars roll on regardless,

And wastebins overflow

Into the empty cycle lanes.

 

 

TURNER

 'The Sun is God’,

Turner said.

He showed how it can even shine

From a canvas rubbed with ‘shit’

Which it has enabled us to see

The Sun shining over the seas,

Where battleships fight

Drowning sailors as they sink.

Shining over the waves,

Which are the only headstones

That the slaves jettisoned

From the Zong would have,

If it wasn’t for Turner.

So our Sun God shines,

Over turnip pickers at Slough,

And warring apes and ants,

As it once shone

Over dinosaurs, terror birds

And gorgonopsids.

Does it watch life

Making

Mistake after mistake after mistake ,

As it burns?