Minimalist poet, minimalist lifestyle

I was in Iceland (the supermarket) today and noticed a sign which read:
'Everything in this freezer, £1'.

Of course, it should have read:
'Anything in this freezer, £1'.

This grammatical mistake couldn't be blamed on the local staff; it was obviously marketing material produced by head office. I wonder though what the legal situation would be if I were to empty the entire contents of the freezer into a trolley and only offer to pay £1 at the checkout?

BROADENING THE MIND

Unzipping a smile;
The stopping train stops
But there isn't a station.

I think I know her,
But not her name.

I know the name
Of the next station though.

It's now the second week of the political party conference season and there's still next week to face yet. The speeches are broadcast live on all the news channels; I find it all so bloody tedious...I'm glad I can get news from alternative sources on the internet though: there's actually so much happening elsewhere in the world.

MOONLIGHT RENDEZVOUS

The come-on
From a thousand stars;
But every night
I rehearse my lines
In her bed.

It's Thursday morning again, and since Saturday night I haven't spoken to a soul, apart from shop workers and bureaucrats. My only social contact seems to be via the internet and the occasional phone call. Surely there must be more to life than this mere existence? I'm 43 years old, healthy and intelligent, not a housebound pensioner. I need a life; surely there's something...

WITHOUT GUILT

I stand naked
In the cold and rain.

They throw coins at me;
I do not count them.

The favourites list on my computer:

Live News
Languages
Blogs
Radio Stations
Magazines
Newspapers
Earth Sciences
Geography
Forums
Travel

THE MAN WITH NO SHADOW

In the middle of a crowd
It's desert,
Rush hour clouds
Abandoned.

He'd despise them all,
Their lives, burdened
With hope and ambition
And 'might-have-been';
A life-long search for happiness.

He's all alone,
Incommunicado with nature,
Nine to five:
Necessities.

Earlier this morning, for the first time for a few weeks, I went and walked around the secondhand market. I was hoping to pick up a few cheap videos, but the ones on sale cost more than they would on the regular market.

AT THE END OF THE DAY

It's only when
Our health
Is failing
That we begin
To learn Latin.

God must speak
To us all
In mysterious ways
I suppose.

No Yorkshire city ever appears on the BBC national weather map.

On many official forms I don't have the opportunity to identify myself as ethnically English.

Sometimes, it's just the most insignificant of things...

RETROGRADE

There is no calm backwater
Of creviced eyes, of benign shadows;
Somewhere I go back along the way
Sounds conjured up out of nothing more
But memory? Here to stray!

Passersby I haven't yet resurrected
Unacknowledging sighs in country towns
The streets, the shops, the promenading years
A state of mind. Unsound. Unfound. Dumbfound!

The last time I stood here
The houses, kindling for asphalt
Countdown alternate years to the millenium;
Barking as dogs, a lunar epidemic.

The moon, chained with kindness
A lock of cloud; compromise down dreams
Intermittent hands, cold all the time I never
I cannot trust, pitted against the gutter: ever!

I just want to be able to walk into a social situation with my head held up high because I've got a job and some status in the world.

It would also be nice not to have to be on my own all the time; a job and a committed, intimate relationship, is this asking for too much?

STUMPED

Time lingers over this ritual
Of mingling silences and dust;
At the end of her hands: no fingers.

A smoke-free zone:
A life burnt out.

Yesterday was the deadline for me to return a completed housing benefit form to the council. Rather than post it I handed it in personally and got a dated receipt.

My landlord was required to provide the details requested, so why didn't the Housing Department just send the form to him in the first place? What would have happened if I wouldn't have been able to contact my landlord in time?

SOMEWHERE....ANYWHERE

Fantasy travels
Business class
Transatlantic
Reason rhymed.

A balding pate
And firm young flesh
Where geography's concerned
It's all above my head.

I will sit here
Until paint peels
Until whatever I am
Laughing at amuses me.

High on New York
Time zones apart
I require goggles
To make the ocean palatable.

There are only three types of food I will not, or cannot eat. These are bananas, mushrooms and cinnamon; I can't even stomach being in the same room as anything with a strong smell of cinnamon...it actually makes me feel ill.

PREDICAMENTS

Love's no excuse for poetry,
Friendship no barter for pride.

Hardship is having to
Reverse down a one-way street
Because you can't afford an A-Z,
The cry of a baby on the back seat
Terrified of something unknown, unsaid.

(In other words, never having
To admit you've made a mistake.)

Madness barks at the moon
Safe and sound beyond the horizon.

In retrospective,
I feel the cool damp touch of shadow;
Coughing is immortal.

Some good sporting news to report. My local football (soccer) team, Doncaster Rovers, after a bad start to the season, has had two good wins this week. Firstly, knocking Premership side Manchester City out of the League Cup, and then beating local rivals Barnsley at the weekend.

Of course, the cricket season has now come to an end, but there's still the winter tour to India and Pakistan to look forward to.

HOME HELP US

Crescent moon bent,
Year srushed,
Nearer and nearer:
Terminus.

Flame-licked;
The faint flicker
Of time.

Womb knock
"Yes, my child."

We are all
Our children's
Children.

I'm getting annoyed and confused with the differing British and US ways of denoting dates when I'm surfing the net.

Why can't we standardise matters and use Roman numerals for the months and then there's no confusion? Except, of course, that computers aren't able to process Roman numerals.

COUNTDOWN

A lowing sun
Breaks the last straw
On the horizon's back.

Cleavage of hills,
A snapped chain
Of vapour trail.

A shadow stretching
Beyond the point,
Semaphoring trees debate;
Headlights butt the mist.

Lullabies rock reluctant children
"News, on the hour, every hour."
Sheep so quietly rehearse.

I enjoyed a free bus ride back into town last night. I was waiting at the bus-stop and a young woman with a toddler in a pushchair just gave me her Dayrover ticket that she no longer needed.

Some good things do happen to us after all; this kind act (at no cost to herself) saved me £1.30.

Of course, it's all perfectly legal: the bus company advertises one of the benefits of a Dayrover ticket is the fact that you can pass it on to family and friends for them to use...so why not a complete stranger?

SABBATH

It's Sunday again:
God doesn't give a toss
About the rest of the week.

After my recent posting of my favourite places in the county of Yorkshire as a whole, I thought I might as well draw up a new, local list.

1...Thorne Moors: A totally unique environment in England; extensive raised lowland peat bogs covered in dense vegetation. On a hot summer day you could easily imagine that you're in Africa.

2...Hooton Pagnell: Spectacularly situated preserved seventeenth century estate village. Mediaeval defensive gatehouse, church carillon and expansive views of The Pennines.

3...Sprotborough: Attractive lock, weir and nature reserve; situated in the Don Gorge.

4...The pleasant countryside in the extreme west of the borough, stretching along the magnesium limestone ridge.

HATLESS (or ABOVE ILKLEY)

We finished our picnic,
Read the graffiti
On the Cow and Calf rocks
And talked to an old man;
"Nothing up there
But sheep, and sheep
Following sheep."
He said.

I watched a video last night; it was set in Glasgow and all the characters spoke using a broad Glaswegian dialect. I could only understand about a third of what was being said; it really should have been subtitled.

Personally, when I speak I use something approximating to Standard English delivered in a Yorkshire accent; although I do tend to slip into dialect when visiting my parents.

Of course, all my blog entries and poetry are written in Standard English, with a few slight clarifications and modifications for an international readership.

THE CUSTOMER

His only companion, a pint glass
Swapping idle conversation
With the barmaid's hand.

His only reminiscence, a rich flavour
Tasted on silent lips
When conversation's gift is lost.

His only compensation, a shared experience
Among the chatter of his fellows
As drinks' last orders are announced.

1...Writing and publishing my poetry.

2...News and current affairs.

3...Languages of the world.

4...Military history and geopolitics

5...TV and films.

6...Theatre and the arts.

7...Watching sport.

GRAVITY

In a crazy world
It takes less time
For the minute hand
To travel from the hour
To half-past
Than it takes for it
To travel from half-past
Back up to the hour.

Yesterday, Hussein Osman (also known as Hamdi Izaak), an Islamic terrorist was extradited from Italy to London. Although we all know who he is and what he looks like, the media have been banned from showing his face. Why is this so? I know under English law there's the concept of 'sub judice', but that's just a means of censorship.

Because of this, there's not much democracy in this country but some of the legal cover-ups in the past have been laughable and pathetic...and even Chairman Blair can't censor the internet, can he?

Finally, why do so many Arabs/Muslims have two or three alternative names? It immediately makes me supicious of their motives and behaviour.

MORE OR LESS

On Ilkley Moor
Hatless, careless
We stood in the centre
Of the stone circle
At the summit.

It was a beautiful day;
I commented that
We could see most
Of the West Riding from there;
My friend agreed.

Seconds became minutes, became degrees,
Another hiker diverted
From the main path
And approached,
Touched each of the stones
In turn, then continued
On his way, without saying a word.

We did the same, my friend and I
Just for the sake of it
...You never know just who
Could have been watching.

1...The City of York: A magnificent gothic cathedral, the largest north of The Alps; and a complete set of mediaeval walls and gates. Need I say any more?

2...Selby: Pleasant market town with minster abbey and pleasant riverside views.

3...Howden: Small, well-preserved Georgian town with partially-ruined minster.

4...Beverley: Another Georgian town with minster and mediaeval city gate.

5...Hebden Bridge and neighbouring Heptonstall: A bohemian/artistic colony in the Pennines.

6...Ilkley: Always plenty of colourful hanging baskets; easy access to the moor that features in Yorkshire's national anthem (very gory words.)

7...Flamborough Head: Spectacular chalk cliffs.

8...Robin Hood's Bay: Colourful fishing village with a thriving artistic community. Nothing to do with Robin Hood.

9...Whitby: The home port of Captain Cook and all the association's with Count Dracula.

10..Hundreds of square miles of high, desolate moorland.

One of our fellow bloggers is blatantly advertising his services as a 'free male escort'. I say 'good look to him'; you've got to admire his honesty.

Mind you, although I'm not likely to ever go that far, I have placed a few personal ads. I haven't received any serious replies yet though.

CHIT-CHAT

He knew it all,
Dished it out
On a need-
To-know basis,
Washed up
After dinner;
Too tired
To impart
The last bus,
She smiled,
'No news is
Good news,
After all,'
She sensed.

A recent government report suggests that despite all the money that's been thrown at the problem, truancy is still a major problem.

It's not the truancy as such though that's the problem; it's what the kids are doing while they're not at school: hanging around in gangs on street corners and shopping centres and getting drunk or taking drugs whilst threatening people and committing acts of vandalism.

My solution to this problem is simple; don't make education compulsory any more - bring in a curfew for children during school hours and basically place them all under house arrest. If people want to opt out of society, I say let them, but let them also suffer the consequences. There'll then be more resources and opportunities for the rest of us who want to contribute to, and participate in, the society in which we live.

AUTOCUE

Here are today's news headlines:
'The Prime Minister said something,
The Leader of the Opposition responded:
Somewhere abroad, a thousand people
Had their tongues ripped out.'

My dad's seventy years old today. It's no use me wishing him a happy birthday in this blog because he'll never read it. With his opinions, behaviour and attitudes he's barely arrived at the nineteenth century, never mind the twenty first, and so modern technology just doesn't feature in his life at all.

It's not that we don't get on; in fact we get on okay (always have). We're not very close though and can't talk about anything of a personal nature. The conversation never goes much beyond sport and the weather.

EPILOGUE

On the train
Tired children hugged windows
Tetes-a-tetes
Looking like empty vases
Argued over the pronunciation
Of the town.

On the platform
Lovers bartered their final embraces
As the station announcer
Announced that Saturday night
Would be late again this week.

Another typical Tuesday morning: I've just got back from town where I bought some fish from the market and spent some time browsing the second-hand videos on sale..nothing of interest though. Last week I bumped into a mate and we had a natter for a few minutes, but he wasn't there today.

I'm so bloody bored.

SCREEN HEROES

Sheltered in breath
Your words encapsulated
The situation perfectly,
Candle flames licked
Impatient shadows,
You coughed, apologetically
And explained to me that
Kissing was contagious.

Yesterday I watched a report about a new craze that's sweeping across America; cage fighting...pretty much unrestricted brawling between two men in a cage.

What does this say about the state of our society? I'm not sure, but young men need to burn off their excess energy and aggression somehow though.

EXPERIMENT

There was a positive reaction
In the laboratory;
The scientist,
Who rarely smiled
Would never smile again.

I've been asked to become an online moderator on the South Yorkshire Public Transport Forum and have decided to accept the invitation. I'm interested in the subject and moderating should be fairly straight forward; just looking out for inappropriate or unsuitable postings and comments and introducing new subjects for discussion.

MUSIC APPRECIATION

In spacial stereo
It was still noise;
Back in The Fifties
On a mono radiogram
I could have been convinced
That it was music.

So, another weekend has passed in pretty much the same manner as all my weekends do - Friday and Saturday evenings watching DVD's and videos at a friend's house, Sunday morning reading the Sunday Times.

ROMANTIC

Time and tide;
Sky, land and
Sea collide.

Full moon wax
Lovers shadow box.

Memory:
Footprints pressed
Into the sand.

In this light,
Behind each kiss;
A derelict horizon.

Global warming; a subject that's been in the news a lot recently due to Hurricane Katrina. No, I'm not convinced; we're always seeing reports of extreme weather events on TV...the hottest for 500 years, the wettest, the driest, the worst season for hurricanes, the ice caps are melting, the Gulf Stream might dissipate etc. etc. etc.

What caused the extreme weather hundreds or thousands of years ago? Well, certainly not the activities of mankind - climatic extremes are a part of the natural cycle of the Earth's progression through space.

Variation in our orbit around the sun, the fluctuating energy output of the sun itself, the changing tilt of the Earth, a sudden flip of the magnetic flux and god know's what else all contribute to a growing list of potential causes and explanations.

Global warming or climate change, whatever you want to call it, will continue to happen and there's nothing we can do about it. We kid ourselves if we believe that human civilisation is the cause of this visitation: we're far too insignificant as a species for that.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Of course, when I was at school, everyone worried about the imminence of another Ice Age.

1...Supermarket bogof deals (buy one, get one free) offers. Why can't I just have one item at half the price?

2...The seemingly endless amounts of bureaucracy I have to deal with.

CONVERSATION TABLE

Whilst having his cake
And eating it
The poor little rich boy
Thinking back
To his maths lesson
Realised that
It was all
Pi in the sky
And poor people
Did count after all
...But not very well.

I'm hobbling around the streets of Doncaster at the moment; suffering from a severe case of what I call 'Tall Bus Passenger's Knee.' This is caused by spending too much time tightly wedged into a confined space, engine vibrations surging through my legs which are trapped by the back of the seat in front.

Of course, because I'm finding it painful to walk everywhere, I need to take the bus.

MACHINE CODE

A machine, in spate
Floods the room
With noise.

In the semi-detached darkness
Ghostly figures prolong
The agony of work.

Upstairs, in the office
A total lack of emotion
Sparks a 999 call
To the fire brigade
And a quick response.

I've finally managed to persuade my landlord to visit the property and have a look at some damp in the bathroom. He hasn't committed himself to doing anything about rectifying the problem yet; certainly nothing specific.

SUBURBIA

A flock of frost
Grazes the front lawn.

Yesterday afternoon
I serviced the lawnmower:
Served it right.

I'll send the bill
For my labour
To the Met Office
This time, I guess.

When I was travelling through Pontefract on the bus yesterday, I started to think about the history of the town. Over the centuries, and presently still under certain circumstances, what we now know as Pontefract (a name of Latin origin, although the Romans never had a settlement there) has also been called Pomfret (Norman French derivation), Kirkby (a Viking name) and Tanshelf (directly from Old English).

Strangely, the name 'Pontefract' means 'broken bridge' but there isn't a bridge there. It's all rather puzzling.

PETER'S PENCE

The Church of England
Is fortunate in not having
To take financial matters
Into consideration.

The price of cathedral
Guide books is always
Rounded up
To the nearest pound.

Ninety nine pence
Is anathema.

I got caught out in the rain yesterday (unlike cricketers) and now seem to be coughing and sniffling, so I fear I might be coming down with something again.

The weather has now become very autumnal and typically English; dark and miserable for the most part, and hour after hour of drizzle.

Personally, I'd much prefer a brief heavy dowmpour followed by a bit of brightness.

DECEMBER POEM

Saturday night:
Nearly Christmas...
Three men stagger.

An electric sky
Stutters over the words
Of a hundred advertisers.

A puddle
Punctured by a tyre
Deflates onto boots
As a shadow
In a shop doorway,
Smelling of low spirits,
Sings the praises
Of religious abstinence
And coitus interruptus:
God forbid

I think my blog has been hijacked. I've just checked my email inbox and there are eight notifications of trackbacks from autodigest.com...I'm not even interested in cars. Does anyone know what's happening? Are they just spamming me? I don't know.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

I had a late night last night; staying up until midnight to watch 'Lost', followed by an early start this morning, travelling on the 07:20 bus to Castleford.

Obviously I'm still attending the Writer Development Programme at Yorkshire Art Circus...I'm still considering leaving the course though, because I have very little in common with most of the other participants.

I'll be looking forward to an early night tonight though, going to bed as soon as the football finishes.

LIGHT YEARS

One day,
In the distant future
When we have names
For everything in the universe
We'll know just how far we've come.

It's been reported in the local press that Doncaster's final coal mine is to close within the next few months, marking the end of an era.

When I used to live in Thurnscoe, a former pit village, eight miles to the west of here, I would frequently walk up onto the limestone ridge to the north of the village. From up there, apart from enjoying extensive views westwards towards the Pennines I could also look down into the Dearne Valley with its fifteen or so mines employing thousands of men within such a small geographical area. They've all been closed for at least a decade now; replaced in part by call centres, in part by crime and drug addiction.

RENDEZVOUS

City centre
Shadows
Square dance.

On the ring road
An epileptic fit
Of traffic lights
The way.

Ten minutes more
I tick off
The final day.

Too hot here
For reprisals.

I've just returned from the Post Office where I went to pay my electricity bill. As usual, it was an estimated bill, but for once it was pretty accurate and so I didn't bother to phone in the actual meter reading.

MEN

At the interview
For the post
Of Head Gardener
He temporarily
Forgot the Latin
Word for 'spade'.

PICKLE

It's raining:
It appears
My parasol
Is getting
Wet again.

I'm a bit of a news junkie..there are three, 24 hour news channels on the Freeview terrestrial TV service which I have access to; and I watch them a lot. Naturally, I also monitor many of the international news sites on the web.

I also enjoy watching sport and have been keenly following the cricket, some days hardly missing a ball.

Yesterday however, for most of the day, on all three channels there was nothing but blanket coverage of the post-Ashes celebrations. This coverage lasted for hours and so it was fortunate that nothing of importance was happening anywhere else in the world, wasn't it?

CHECKLIST

In the event of fire:-
i) Approach the stone circle from the south
ii) Touch each of the stones in turn, walking
in a clockwise direction
(N.B. All stones are automatically touched
with right hand.)
iii)Always enter the circle from the south
iv) Always depart the circle towards the north.

All staff and visitors are to gather in The Harvest in an orderly manner.

PLEASE NOTE: The Fire Brigade will never arrive.

There's a mobile icecream vendor whose van travels along the local streets where I live playing the same few bars from the theme tune from 'The Magnificent Seven' over and over again.

It's so bloody inappropriate hearing this powerful and atmospheric piece of music played under these circumstances. I don't know whether to laugh or cry.

THE COWARD

It wasn't quite raining
As the night trapped my thoughts
Into tiny, watertight emotions
That coagulated as sweat
Around my neck, noose-like
Lisping down my back.

I could have done it yesterday,
I should have, but didn't
Not knowing why the task
Was beyond my capabilities.

And I, forever trapped the coward
Herd all bravery towards the beautiful
Who only parade about my dreams
Out in some discontented foray
That masquerades as passion's calling.

And should I dare to tell her?
...Oh no, not tonight; my love.

I've recently received some bad news about the death of an acquaintance; burnt to death in his static caravan. He was only thirty five years old.

I could go on about how poverty has caused this to happen, compelling him to live on the fringes of society, but I won't because he chose this alternative lifestyle for himself, knowing all the risks.

HITCH-HIKER

When the moor
Hit his eyes
He put on his
Sunglasses
And turned down
The volume.

LUNACY

On the far side
Of the Moon,
A mousetrap
With mouldy cheese.

Yesterday I learnt a new word; 'vlogger'...a video blogger. Unfortunately I haven't got the equipment or software installed to do this yet, and the site probably wouldn't be able to support such a service yet anyhow.

This morning's poem is the first one I ever had published, back in 1988 in a magazine called 'Tak Tak Tak' - I haven't a clue what the title means; but I think it might be Polish.

THE MADONNA

Cleft emotions flattered monotony
As life progressed to middle age,
But the buttonhole rose
She wore with precision
Was only days younger than love's newest rage.

He loves me
He loves me not
He loves me
He loves me not
She practised on a dandelion clock.

And somewhere in an English garden
A headless rose, divorced again
Swears she's never tried hayfever
Although she sneezes when provoked.

He loves me
He loves me not
He loves me
He loves me not,
She murmured to her son, distracted
By passion calling from the night.

1...Without experience I can't get a job; without a job I can't gain any experience.

2...In a social situation, when asked what I do; not knowing what to say,I panic and end up saying something stupid or totally inappropriate.

3...The coverage of the cricket on Channel Four keeps being interrupted by horse racing.

T.V. ADDICT

In his youth
He saw the world
In black and white;
When clour came,
An endless sweep
Of grey.

As I'm typing this blog my fingers stink of marigolds. Very pretty orange/yellow flowers, but their smell isn't very fragrant. I've been collecting some seeds for next summer but scattered most on the ground, hoping they'll germinate in the spring.

SEEN IN BLACK AND WHITE

The days hung heavy in their shadows
Elongated with the weight of hours
Spent idling round a Northern town.

Spare parts from the economy
Were scattered on derelict street corners
Discussing last night's television.

And in a bedroom, at number thirty,
Another dream lies dying
In fading black and white.

1...I'm a passive person and let things just happen to me. I always need telling or showing what to do.
This could explain a lot about my personal circumstances.

2...I find compromise a difficult concept; with me it's all or nothing, right or wrong, good or evil, total enthusiasm or not bothering at all.

3...Loneliness and social isolation have probably made me appear to be arrogant.

GREENSPEAK

In a cruel world
Cut flowers are
Approved of
By vegetarians.

Assumption
That plants
Have no emotions
Is nothing new.

I've received another of those consumer survey forms (with a free pen included) in the post this morning. I haven't needed to buy any pens now for years. Every little helps. I never fill in the survey though.

However, I'm actually on a telephone consumer panel, but I get £5 per month for responding to their calls and so continue to participate.

CARESS

Last night
I washed
My hands
In your hair,
Moonlight
Lathering
Like soap.

Although I only wrote one blog entry instead of my usual two yesterday (I was visiting my parents) my blog somehow managed to appear three times on the listings. I think my mouse must have been sticking when I was clicking and so I've dismantled it and cleaned it. Anyhow it seems to be working better now; the problem is though, I'm not very good with my hand/eye co-ordination in the first place and so waste a lot of time when surfing the net and clicking on links.

PAPER TIGERS

Headlines rush
Towards tomorrow
As half a dozen boys
With the world
On their shoulders
Eagerly turn
To the back page
And chose their
Words carefully.

After the poor performances of the England football team against both Wales and Northern Ireland, I'm now really looking forward to the cricket team doing somewhat better and at least drawing the final test to recover The Ashes from the Aussies.

SLEEPING PARTNER

Lying in a bed of Rose's
He found it hard to sleep
And even harder
To be optimistic.

NEWSWORTHY

The interviewer
Put words
Into his mouth
And he nearly
Choked.

After the poor performances of the England football team against both Wales and Northern Ireland, I'm now really looking forward to the cricket team doing somewhat better and at least drawing the final test to recover The Ashes from the Aussies.

SLEEPING PARTNER

Lying in a bed of Rose's
He found it hard to sleep
And even harder
To be optimistic.

NEWSWORTHY

The interviewer
Put words
Into his mouth
And he nearly
Choked.

After the poor performances of the England football team against both Wales and Northern Ireland, I'm now really looking forward to the cricket team doing somewhat better and at least drawing the final test to recover The Ashes from the Aussies.

SLEEPING PARTNER

Lying in a bed of Rose's
He found it hard to sleep
And even harder
To be optimistic.

NEWSWORTHY

The interviewer
Put words
Into his mouth
And he nearly
Choked.

My brother is due to visit me later today and I'll be visiting our parents tomorrow. A good natter (putting the world to right), a proper English lunch and a short walk in the countryside. It's all very pleasant.

HISTORY BROUGHT TO LIFE

On Eyam Moor
You'd miss the stone circle
If it wasn't for the sign.

In the village
Tourists view
The Plague Cottages.

Their God
Will protect them
For a few generations
More this time.

In my ignorance
I look for another sign.

I had to remember to go offline at nine o'clock last night so that I could watch CSI Miami on TV. Apart from 'Lost' it's the only drama series I regularly watch. I love watching Horatio, the lead character, he's just so creepy. I actually prefer the original CSI though (set in Las Vegas) with the wonderfully Zen and minimalist Gil Grissom in charge.

THE FOGGIEST OF WAR

In his report
the censors
censored it
when he reported
that it had
been censored.

In the American media there's an argument raging about what to call the people displaced from New Orleans; evacuees or refugees?

Of course, we've had similar disagreements in Britain about the use of language. When Islamic suicide bombers attacked London in July the BBC in particular was very reluctant for several hours to even acknowledge that what had happened was even a result of terrorism...and, of course, the people who did it were never referred to as 'Islamic terrorists' but merely 'militants' or 'extremists' or, more latterly 'bombers'.

OUT OF SEASON

A flat tide
A punctured sun,
The horizon;
dead, on the
Electrocardiograph.

Yesterday I filled in two forms which were sent to me; one from the Housing Department of the local council and the other from the Electoral Registration Office.

Actually they were both quite easy to complete and only took a few minutes. That's not always been the case though: a few years ago when I had a nervous breakdown and had to sign off the unemployment register I had to complete a long and complicated form for claiming Incapacity Benefit. Already knowing that I wasn't eligible for this particular benefit I still had to make a claim so that I could then provide documentary evidence of my unsuccessful claim so that I would be paid Income Support (at exactly the same rate as my Jobseeker's Allowance was when I was unemployed).

It all seems rather complicated and pointless, but at least it keeps people in well-paid, secure jobs.

DOWNFALL

He fell
from grace,
picked up
the pieces
and sheepishly
re-entered
the cathedral
without paying.

Because London has been awarded the 2012 Olympics there has already been pressure from the organisers for Great Britain to enter a football team: how long will it take for similar pressure to be applied from FIFA and UEFA?

Would a combined GB team entered into the World Cup or European Championship be a stronger team than a team just representing England? The answer is 'no'.

Instead of the England manager being free to select the best eleven players, his Great Britain counterpart would always have to pick one Northern Irish player, one Welshman and possibly even two Scots, irrespective of the fact that there would most likely be more talented English-qualified players available.

RECIPE

When I do it the next time
I'll break an egg
On the horizon,
The albumen will
Become the Moon
And the yolk
The Sun.

Typing in various combinations of relevant words into Yahoo image search I've been able to view photographs of what's really happening in New Orleans at the moment. Basically, a lot of people have died, and others are still dying. Of course, here in Britain we're not allowed to see such images on terrestrial TV or in the newspapers. I wonder why?

TRACKER

Someone's
been here,
I can see
the footprints
of a shadow;
the glance
of deja vu.

I'm still not certain if I'll be continuing to attend the Writer Development Programme at Yorkshire Art Circus. I can't see what benefits are accruing to me.

I'm also attempting to offer some honest literary criticism to a couple of fellow writers on the programme; but I'm finding it difficult - I have no interest at all in the subjects they're writing about, so what can I really contribute?

MAP REFERENCE

Eyes squint at
Small print on the hill -
Sanitised Gaelic
On an Ordnance Survey map,
I shout;
The echoed reply
As an obscenity.

MAGICK

It's summer again;
There'll be another
Crop of stone circles
In cornfields.

Why do advertisers produce adverts that are so obscure that you're not even sure what they're trying to sell or promote; even after watching them several times?

It's just that at the moment there's an advert (very stylish and well-produced) being shown on TV all the time; produced for the Spanish Tourist Board, but on first viewing it could could be an attempt to sell a car, chocolate, alcohol...or even sex. It certainly isn't obvious.

CARTOGRAPHIC TALE

When the archaeologist
Discovered a crop circle
In a field near a Roman road
Which diverted from a straight line
For no apparent reason,
Against his better judgement
He signed The Official Secrets Act.

JUST ONE MORE

Heavy snowfall
Overnight:
The rhododendron
A lost sheep.

I've been spending a lot of time visiting various forum sites on the net; local history, public transport, TV and media, and placing adverts for a dancing partner or hiking companions; or just looking for some interesting ideas.

It's all rather inefficient though, there are so many sites and they all need investigating.

BALANCE SHEET

Late of December
Tinsel by date,
Nearly New Year
Blue jeans
Debate.

Overcoated acres,
Town and Country
Decide by side,
Party gamekeepers
Kiss the bride.

Fiend or foe?
Never out of sight
Loss and prophet
Hold me tight!

I think I must have been wearing odd socks all day yesterday (or one day this week); I only realised when I noticed today's socks weren't a pair and then checked. You do have to inspect them closely though, both pairs are black, just a different weave. It's probably happened before and I wouldn't have known.

ROUNDABOUT WAYS

And when....
The crop circle
Began to rotate -
Then, he believed.

NEW IDEAS

He never thought it strange
That as the batteries were exhausted
The music on his radio got slower.

The news from Louisiana isn't looking good; possibly several thousand dead and a complete breakdown of law and order.

Of course, here in Britain we like to think of ourselves as being safe and that something similar won't happen to us; however, that's not been the case in the past.

I've been checking on the net, and in 1703 the south coast was hit by a hurricane and 8,000 people died and in 1606 more than 2,000 were killed by a tsunami in the Bristol Channel.

PASSING OF TIME

Total eclipse of the sun;
When daylight returned,
One less standing stone
In the circle.

PARTNERS

And...as
They danced,
Their shadows
Jumped up
And joined them
As they were
Cast onto
The stones.

I received a letter yesterday from the editor of a magazine that's published one of my poems...no free contributor's copy though, but I am allowed to buy just a single copy without needing to subscribe for an entire year. I don't think so.

I don't have a problem with not receiving payment for my work; there's no money to be earned from writing poetry (apart from the occasional workshop and even rarer bursary), but I'll be damned if I'm going to pay to see my work in print.

OVERLOOKING WALSDEN

The two of us reached the summit,
A setting sun in the west
Greeted our eyes.

The sun's reflection
On a still millpond
Also spilled a shadow.

In the field,
Sometimes two and two
Makes five.

It's now been ten days since I observed a team of council workers blocking off some steps that I regularly use on my way into town. The steps need repairing and so the men also put up a sign informing us of the danger.

Naturally this closure has caused myself and others a lot of inconvenience when carrying heavy bags back from the shops.

Being unemployed and on a daily basis seeing all the work that needs doing to improve the town and its environment not being done, it just pisses me off that the powers-that-be aren't able to draft in people in circumstances such as myself to do the work.

COMPOSITION

"Well Sir
You can eat
A Mars bar starting
At either end,
Melt it down
Into its constituent
Parts, or use it as
A measure of worth:
One bite and
She's interested,
Two bites and
It's a deal."

I was able to do a small favour for a friend recently; nothing much, just a bit of research on the internet and a few follow-up phone calls...but it's nice to be asked. At least he was thinking of me and acknowledged my humanity. It's just the little things in life that matter.

AWAKENING

February feet
Face standing stones,
Light batters down the morning;
Shepherds could be sailors here.

ALL FOR ONE

She dropped
A stitch in time
To save nine.

The other eight
Had never seen
Her naked before.