Refugee

Smelly in the corner,
On a black,

Leather sofa,

We speak he and I with oiled bodies, we
Recline at will,

With silver-lined laptops,
With morning beer in,

Plastic cups, ice-cream
Tins, we

Touch minds gently across thrusting porn-stars,
He and I, and we

We will make it happen,
Perhaps,

Emigrate,

Fiddle with love beyond borders, have
Sex in public,

Don’t laugh,

Book an hotel room in an Islamic country,
Without scrutiny,

Hold hands in an African one, do
Battle in Mississippi.

Continue reading

Pain relief

800px-semana_santa_antigua_guatemala

Builders will continue to build, and
White folk dumpster dive, 

In the winter anyway,

In red,
And blue overalls, scavenge –

Scavenger,
Some for profit, others fun, and I

Cannot be a predator, I
Cannot carry luggage, I

Am dying, and

Perhaps giving things away, a
book or something will relive the pain, lord

Knows I just need some pain relief and, I
Just cannot afford to hoard right now, nor pilgrimage, how

I wish I had done this earlier like,
Forgiven my lover, myself –

Wait,
I’ll do it in dungarees, I am dying and I

Do not need to carry baggage, cannot take it with me, I’ll
Give out yellow popsicles instead.
 

photo – Holy Week, Guatemala♦

-short evocative poetry-

 

 

Midnight Gardener

jacob-y-angel-pelean

I hear God in cushion prints,
Leopard pants,

Ancestors,
We Forget;

What if it took place at midnight, would you

Stack hay and win,
Chicago with the broad shoulders,

Hunt mosquitos,
Midnight lover, the

Ebullient wrestler in a,
Pink Venetian mask,

Would you,
Be a brute,

Pretending the contender was not God,
Brisk breeze,

Be the one who,
Proof read the script,

Then promptly forgot,

Alzheimer,
And Jung?

Anger never works.

Photo – Jacob and Esau

-short evocative poetry-

The smell of new curtains

It came from the right side like God, or a deer, a

Migraine warning;
Chemotherapy strikes at any time.

Where am I going wrong?

Under community skies and red roofed buildings, immaculate
And unfinished,

Holding on for next week’s rent,
Even if you were alive,

I’d not have listened,

Missing a father to say what’s wrong
In his opinion,

Old enough how,
To hear sterner words in music,

To understand that the clinic serves Japanese-Americans and Kenyans alike,
On the dusty Main Street of the farming village,

The dusty, ochre-coloured Main Street covered,
With maize drying, and

Women slipping from bus-stop to bus-stop with children in their hair, that was
Probably,

Paid for,
By a man with a plan – the clinic,

And mum’s words,
Soft and gentle and supportive,

And different from yours;

I can take it now daddy,
Where did I go wrong?

I can make things right now,
The deer came from the left.

And whilst hindsight works in accidents we do not see coming,
At least Cancer gives us time.

 

♦Photo♦ –  laurieanichols.wordpress.com

-short evocative poetry-

Jacob and his Angel

It is patience that destroyed Adam and Eve,
Not the hooded serpent,

With beady eyes,

Not the salacious Jezebel,
Hiding her fanny,

Not the woman,

The patience,
You see,

The knowing without power,
The waiting for death and its meager offerings,

You’ve got to face the day, come what may
Your smiling face will see rain again,

And it won’t be long till you drag your feet,
To slow the circle down.

-short, evocative poetry-

Photo – Jacob and Esau

The Barber Shop

Kiswahili in Brooklyn,

Mercedes outside, and
I’m falling in love with my country.

Seven days he works.
Day’s off, he says

Entrepreneur, he plays
Doing what he can to cut hair well and,

Provide a space
For the rich and poor,

The men and women,

Who do their hair and freely discuss,
Their politics in his space.

Mercedes outside is his.

-♦Photo – Personal♦-

-short, evocative poetry-

China is not a free market economy or, On Welding

Observed-6c

I would have to have eight hundred haircuts,

To,
Buy the ‘Professionals hair-cutter’ electric clippers I,

Saw on offer,
at the shop window whilst having a pee, and

Trying to hit the resting mosquito on the wall,

With my urine,
-stream of thought-
When,

I noticed the incessant sound of welding,
Work-shop beside the loo,

Against the restaurant,
Africa,

And just thought, that is not a very good deal and,

Then, that
God is a welder,

-The Welder-

And In God We Trust.

Change the Rubicon,
I do not need eight hundred haircuts all at once,

America is not the only free country.

-♦Photo – Jua Kali♦-

Loosing our minds

 

Righteousness, Relationship, Time, Alzheimers

I am right.

You may say that I am not, but
I have,

Demanded love and,

You,
Are wrong.

Black and blue and red hummingbird, I
Know what I am saying, you

Left the kids again,
And we argue,

Tall as bamboo we,
Kill each other,

Taking long hours to,
Identify precisely who left the faucet running,

Forgetting the long, yellow grass of home –
I am right,

You never listen, and that’s the problem
Left,

It says so on the map.

Fold your wings.
Concede.

Allow the dull,
Green mother

Her time at the till.

 

Picture       ♦Space Shuttle Challenger Crew♦

-short evocative poetry-

We will never forget them, nor the last time we saw them, this morning, as they prepared for their journey and waved goodbye and “slipped the surly bonds of earth” to “touch the face of God.” – Space shuttle challenger-

 

Street-walker

God and Folly

It is raining outside.

I am reminded that,
Rain has rhythm.

Rhythm has heart-beat,
A beat, a

Rat-a-tat-tat,

Every city has its gangsters, its’
Street corners, its

Unbelievers, every

Heart has its beat, and
Every beating heart, its’

God,

Where folly is a pink bear,
An African American,

A bionic car round the bend,
Sunlight at last,

Caught,
In the hair,
Of the joggers,

In the difference it makes to,

Walk with a friend,
For a mile or a minute,

Healing,
Not everywhere is fear.

♦photo♦ Laurieanichols Scenes from New York in January

-short evocative poetry-

 

 

Hostage

image

Promises are made to be broken,
Thwarted,

Made again,
Whilst Jasmine pours,

Perfume;

Where God,
Is an impression, a

Figment,
Asking why, if

Birds and fish and,
Creatures of all kinds,

Flourish,

You terrorize one other?
Impossible,

Even at a crimson sunset, to
Say sorry first,

Survive polluting Earth?

Picture – ♦Reuters/Daily Mail

-short evocative poetry-

 

 

Refugees

image

If we are to be Gods we must,
Musk,

Be life forms using noses and spectrograms,

Be blue animals,

Hurtling through space, dentists
Doxologists,

Cobblers mending hard drives,
Therapists,

Slippers,

Saving the world,
Changing the climate,

Becoming responsible politicians,
Setting safe harbour as we go.

-short evocative poetry-