Chords

We’re in need of a hand
to raise the roof when it’s warm
to raise the day when the sun starts its waking.

We’re in need of a way
to understand sounds that otherwise
are deafening and vile.

We’re in need of a shake
when the days no longer break
and the clouds are too close to ignore.

We’re stuck without words
that flutter, fattened like chords,
and sing to the stars in their placement.

#365DaysOfPoetry

Brambles

Reach up and claw for mischief

and attention.

Preach at the sun while it relays

with each mention.

Seek solace in quieted, muted hot

spaces.

Peek rudely through wood and

say your sweet graces.

We’re cavalier, dear and we do as

we please.

We’re hedonists, darling, did

you hurt your knees?

Though we wheeze with the wind

that is chocked full of dust,

grow up for the greater, reach higher,

we must.

We are crisp from the heat, though

ravenous still,

she is nervous of me, pecking

until

there’s a break to the day,

where’s the time gone, to play?

XX

These swallows make such a racket when
the gallows creak at noon. Can you ever

remember a more glorious sound? We’re
in this together; arms locked and loaded

when the barges pass and the gunpowder
pops. There’s only ever one crow beside us

when we meet like this and I’m grateful
for your candour. The moment you

stopped craning your neck and listening,
I came to life; watch me fly, dear boy.