yachtsman_7 Poetry (55)

she was crying
in the sea
unloved and worn
she spoke to me

her heart and boards
were long ripped out
her diesel engine
left in doubt

yet I heard her
heard her true
in her estuary
of blue

I spent a fortune
on her hull
I slept beneath
the dawning gull

weeping wounds
carved by years
open sores
wept salted tears

a friend helped me
with her coat
a rising tide
lifts every boat

and I rescued her
that year
out of wet rot
out of fear

yet twas she
who rescued me
with my work
upon the quay

less days
to think of you
my retro thinking
hours few

the odd bewildered
passerby
would enquire of me
"Why?"

this dishevelled
bearded man
eating something
from a can

I thank the thousands
that walked past
who saw her place in life
as last

they failed to stop
and read the signs
they saw no beauty
in her lines

he sat on the old deck chair
and thought about her
about how she tied a strand of blonde
behind her ear
when she was anxious

how the sun made plans
between the gaps
of her fingers
how her breath tasted

how her beauty
made her invisible
against the birdsong

how the curve of the earth
found a mooring
in the shape of her foot

how the moon
used the naked oak
as a chinstrap

how her eyes
were stainglass windows
in the chapel
of her face

how the untried seconds
were a lifetime
in old clothes

how she dressed
in the untailored truth
of honesty

spoke
in the dialect
of unaware kindness

and sung.. in the key
of smiling

pause and feel it
so familier
yet you've never
seen it
with your eyes

a kind of innocent
expression
something naive
something wise

I wish I knew what you were
searching for
something shimmering and right
a favour granted by your yearning
the place you grow to
from demise

the days are listing into evening
before the sun has kissed your skin
If you were oceans on a dance floor
I wouldnt wait to jump right in

pause and feel it
without feeling
rather be it
and move on

you won't know it
when you taste it
you'll only know it
when it's gone

a kind of dreaming
way of singing
superimposed
over thought

a commodified
returning rainfall
that can't be trapped
nor sold
or bought

I wish I knew what you were
looking for
something shimmering
and light
something hewn from endless endings
something spoken
in goodnight

he grew up tall
in this small land
and worked the beaches
field and strand

until reward won mind
and hand
and left his youth
for golden band

so two were paired
to understand
that marraige took
its own demand

"what then?"
cried Yeats's Ghost..
What then?"

his bandaged hands
found fame and wage
as status grew
about his rage

and wilder hearts
could never assuage
the fight inside
that always stayed

when life was hard
and fears did age
his story writ
upon a page
of blood red ink
and subtle beige

"What then?"
cried Yeats's Ghost?..
"What then?"

the band of gold
he wore as ring
did lose its glow
refused to sing

and wore away
the very thing
that made his world
a bell and ring

and each new love
brought everything
except the glow
of anything..

that's her

" What then?"
cried Yeats's Ghost..
"What then?"

to a five penny piece
I shrunk to the size
as life made me hard
in the head and eyes

so pressed ganged was I
on a leathery ship
that lived in a pocket
on the side of her hip

and life wasn't easy
and life wasn't hard
it was tough bedding down
neath a sharp credit card

a religious medal
and I became mates
and we sung drunken songs
in between great debates

I dated a quarter
but often she snoozed
we laughed at the condom
that never got used

she took us to parties
she lost us in clubs
she found us in drawers
she drank us in pubs

a lipstick for pillow
I smiled at the fates
my blanket a dollar
she got in the states

when the end came
it was cold.. hard and clean
that's how I got here
in this vending machine

cambridge on a sunny morn
a professor deep in thought
a quasi quantum quandary
his mind now overwrought

now the kernel of dilemma
the cause of his unease?
with fish and chips for dinner..
should I go with mushy peas?

symbiotic clarity
coupled with his fate
yet the "mushyness" of peas
was abhorrent to his plate

order over chaos
his findings quite profound
yet a theorist
must work backwards
to a premis pure and sound

he expressed it as a formula
elegant in tone
he wrote it on a post-it note
and hung it by the phone

twenty minutes later
his mobile broke the breeze
and a tired gruff glaswegian cried:
" I canna read Chinese!"

5am.. I take my board
and smell the sky
the tide swims round
the breeze a spell
and says goodbye

the initial hit
of cold and salt
gives way to sound
I think of you
and your eyes of dew
fall on my ground

and all the stuff
we shared and did
just fades to grey
as you become
another girl
that got away

I couldn't stay
too long in town
it's just my way
and you became
the girl
from yesterday

seems I'm cursed
to new strands
and brand new seas
no matter how I try
that word goodbye
still blows the breeze

I guess I'm bad
at being true
I tried and tried
the sea is blue
and filled with tears
from girls who cried

another door
another boat
and another day
and a man who can't
seem to find
the words to stay

for everyone
that I let down
I say a prayer
but I know that life
can be a b*tch
and it ain't fair

the sea is cold
in January
it's cold in May
and you'll always be
the girl from yesterday




.

could a woman love the light
could she'd gladly lease each part
could the angel of our darkness
make a mooring in her heart

could a human heart beat answers
so each vein would never cease
could a good soul stalk it's death
so all death would know no peace

could she tame satanic iron
could she make it turn to rust
could she break him with her subtitles
could she torture him with lust

when time has all but ended
could she be the holy hour
could God who is all knowing
fail to calibrate her power

could a raven haired messiah
all but split the finest line
could every ledger nature fashions
be un-balanced by design

alas his plans revealed
as an architect's unfurl
in a bar inside your soul
sits the devil and the girl

she was tough
(as they come)
in a coat
of pain

she was harder
than diamonds
left out
in the rain

and she smiled
qualified
at how life
slipped away

and she wallowed
in strength
tíl her
final day

no one
knew her
her fame
was too great

so she built
a blood moat
that circled
her fate

sexy as hell
cold
as a stream

her talent
too vast
to thrive
in a team

so let it
all out
you might
as well

the back door
to heaven
is the entry
to hell

so sleep
little bird
but soar
like prayer

and I'll tell
the world
that once
you were here

If I could hold
the quill of truth
over the page
of unfolding story

and hold it still
and let the page itself
write the words
of your defining glory

if I could see
the candle
that lights the table
beside your bed

and see that light
in constant fight
against the dousing
tears you shed

but bitter winds
comb the sands
of the fragile breath
that you release

and war minds wait
in the long grass
as foil
against your peace

If I could read your name
in vast retreating sea
and follow the tides
in a raft made
from the bones
of you and me

I would pray
with actions
outside the gate
off all you hold.. most true

and guard from devils
and unworthy men
the very thing
that makes you 'you'

all was the same
on strawberry hill
the city looked up
at those walking down
and tethered boats
traced the breath of cloud

all was the same
on strawberry hill
shadows hid in the corners
of old masonry
at the stroke of 1
figures emerged
in search of bread
and milk

all was the same
on strawberry hill
the clock face
pointed out degrees
and starlings were
spilt iron filings
on the paper sky

all was the same
on strawberry hill
save bracken was cleared
from the boreen of thought
and you wore new
the ring
my labours bought

drank whisky
from a bellybutton
after hours in a bar
heard the sound
of my breathing
through the lungs
of your guitar

heard a seagull
sing the blues
from the deck
of a fishing boat
heard Mississippi
for the first time
thought that is all she wrote

heard tampa sing
"it hurts me too"
on a road to NYC
heard a lover say "I do" in church
then spent the night with me

and lightnings
just a broken string
on horizon's air guitar
cloudy lyrics
fall as rain
through the windscreen
of my car

there's always a new town
a new girl and you
you're trying hard
to unpick life
tangled up in blue