Poetry Blog by ray pool

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After the cremation service the fresh air.

"I never forget a mask,"

I said to someone i'd never met,

an attempt at grim humour.


The embarrassing marquee behind us

pallbearers upright in their black masks,

so long in the waiting. 

Truth is I had felt disconnected


but grief can spread like ripples

from a stone cast into water

at the downcast head of one

I k...

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When I was eight I made a placemat

from coloured raffias and thick card

a hole in the middle allowing thread

to radiate to the edge under which

the raffia could pass for stitching

under and over the loops to create

circles of alternating hues of red

green and yellow 


each side different, the circles undulating

according to the tension applied

by small hands. 


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A humble cottage had been half hidden

behind tall hedges

spindly latched wrought iron gates waist high

these past twenty years

reaching behind two lanes in a triangle

its occupants long gone. 


One day a notice was clipped to the gates,

telling nothing but a reference number. 

This remained for six months.

One day a car was parked inside. 


The time was dawnin...

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Citadel of commonality

a wander at will to see

Ladybird sweaters

the Chipmunks on 45s

clamours for the top ten

counter girls fresh out of school

trying to be adults. 


Men's tools pre - plastification

on fire from Practical Householder DIY tips,

flotillas of make up all a - sparkle,

magnolia stockrooms

the drone of fluorescent tubes.

Docking bays of glitterb...

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All in a gusting the wind came

making a dance of the heavy trees,

many people were walking

with tiny dogs on whippy leads,

who suddenly at a violent gust

took off into the feisty air

their little legs like those of ducks

below a wintry skyline 


 owners quite befuddled and shocked

as the doggy kites plunged and soared

barking fit to burst

with their ears like f...

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I make sense of the rubbish

quite at home at the end of my garden

screened off with all the functionality

of a French pissoir. 

The incinerator proud with rust

wheezes in its own smoke,

leaves have come to terms with their maker. 


Though the air festers in imminent rain

indoors traps me - 

now the shed hunches with its good nature,

comfortable in the dampness of ...

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On Monday I got covid,

yesterday I had cancer,

today it's arthritis,

I do feel ill.

it's really time to make a will.  


I caught the habit from my mum

she lived 'til she was ninety six,

so I should be grateful for inherited genes

although -

who knows what tomorrow may bring?

i'll probably suffer from everything. 

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My work is non essential

i'm rather sad to say

of very little value

in the thinking of today. 


I've always felt myself to be

a handy sort of chap

but now i'm non essential

shrinking on the map. 


The road map is a working plan

that only works for some

while others work their balls off

i'm sitting on my bum.


The black dog is a - waiting

for me to...

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