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'Solitude' - Click to enlarge

 


Extracts From The Lyrical Beast

Here are some extracts of poems from 'The Lyrical Beast', (Salix Publications, 2004).

Buried
The terracotta army stands its ground.
And Death has no dominion – nor can earthworms
fathom them out – despite
the 6 feet of clay pluming each helmet.

The world’s struck dumb by the enormous belief
in their heads; empty, yet full as drums. None
looks over his shoulder; if ever they nursed
life
and its passions - women, waves, war-horses – they’re buried

too deep in this after-death to revive. Did they
mount illusory guard over their emperor’s soul
day in, day out, in the certainty
that he, like all fallen suns, would rise? So who let their demons

in? Since when did gods acquire such sceptical, acquisitive
time-imperialist, carbon-dating eyes?


Mare
So much mind and nerve - the eyes wild
orbit, her ears quick radar – so much more than just
the up-tail tricksy dancer
she pretends to be. Massy muscle-groups

shimmy, now bunch – what is your mind shaping, you
flighty self-sculptor? And when
every-direction whip-winds and jump-at-you-jaguar dangers
cause pure nerve run-for-your-life stampede, where

does the mind go then, prairie-spirit, flying
your mane’s torn banner?
Ruminant,
in the paddock - a swallows’ nest in the crook
of her lumber shelter - she dozes. Wads of dense sunshine
turn her amber. She’s dreaming she’s reached the end
of the world – it’s high as a five-barred gate. No, higher…


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