Write Angle - Petersfield - 21/07/2009

Returning from a short posting holiday, I read the poems:

- Pachebel, Canon for 3 trumpets
- Giordano Bruno's Journey to London
- Acheron, The River of Woe

Write Angle - Hosted by Leah Cohen and Jake Claret
Address: Upstairs @ The Square Brewery
7 The Square
Petersfield
Hampshire
GU32 3HJ

Broken Lines Poetry at the Keystone, Guildford, 15/07/2009

I read the poems:

- Lethe, the River
- Excuses
- Pachebel, Canon for 3 trumpets
- Summoning the Dead
- Giordano Bruno's Journey to London
- Rush Hour

My thanks to James (wollow) for organising this event

Poetry and a Pint - Bath - 13/9/2009

Returning to one of the first poetry cafes I went to, I read:

- Acheron, the River of Woe
- Summoning the Dead
- Excuses

Poetry and a Pint - hosted by Richard Carder
Every second Monday of each month (except August) 8:00 PM
Address: St James Wine Vaults
10 St. Jamess Square, Lower Lansdown
Bath
BA1 2TR

Angel Poetry - London - 9/07/2009

I read the poems:

- Lethe, the River
- Excuses

Angel Poetry - hosted by Agnes Meadows
Every second Thursday of the month (except August)

Waterstones - 7pm
Address: 11 Islington Green
Post Code: N1 2XH

Scratch Poets - Manchester - 08/07/2009

I read the poems:

- Summoning the Dead
- Lethe, the River
- Match Point

Scratch Poets
Every second wednesday of the month
The Spread Eagle - 7:30pm
526 Wilbraham Road
M21 9LD

Wimbledon

Just to make things clear, I usually don’t watch TV except for DVDs (films and some music) and I take this principle so seriously that I don’t even have my TV connected to an aerial. To make it even more clear, I specifically avoid watching sporting events – I tend to find them particularly unpleasant.

That said, it just happened that I sat in front of a TV showing those excruciating last moments of the men’s final at Wimbledon that lasted for ever. As I sat there, sipping an espresso and chatting, I was progressively drawn into the images. I wasn’t paying as much attention to the game as to the players and to their features and expressions.

Their expressions surfaced, at times, an unmistakable anger that education and training soon would move out of sight and, seeing them, I was transported to other times and places. I wasn’t watching anymore a tennis game in this civilised contemporary Britain, but gladiators fighting to death in a barren arena and adhered to the game as if I could expect to see one of them falling gushing blood and guts from a deadly, vicious blow.

When the retiarius achieved his victory with his net and trident, I could see the defeated Murmillon drop his shield and sword and sink into the ground just as Roddick sank into his chair. The time they took to speak was the time they needed to regain humanity.

After Twilight

We could sit for ages by this half-lit table,
staring quietly, hands touching,
wordless through the magic evening
in the half-deserted rooms of our choice.
What separates us, as we stare,
is by our eyes made different from air ,
thicker, with deeper colours and a purpose
that binds the senses of close and far
and brings warmth to the silent breath
before releasing the rhythms of fire.
I tell you a poem when you least expect,
like a story of wordless emotions,
like whispering to your lips
and, when the words become remembrance,
we look for the smiles reflected on our eyes
as if time was the dim candle by the side.
On warmer days, though, we may lay down
on the soft green scent of the grass, like floating,
and it is so poignant it erases the other senses.
I whisper to your ear the secrets of the birds,
I search for your smile as a sign
that hides and shows,
for your lips as a gift of self forgetfulness
that empties and fulfils,
for your arms as the only shelter
as the day fades into the evening
and a perfect moon lights the clouds.

Shelf Life

Best before it all ends.
Best before it is too late.
Best before you think
this is the future being made.
Best before your fear losing.
Best before you covet.
Best before you give up.
Best before the morning comes
and the children wake you up.
Best before you sleep.
Best before awakening from your dream.
Best before your heart is numb.
Best before your senses burn.
Best before your guilt.
Best before you set to study
the square patterns of your quilt.
Best before you decide.
Best before you remember.
Best before you describe.
Best before you regret.
Best before you hand over
the sparkle of joy you have left.
Best before you hurry.
Best before you stumble.
Best before you find excuses
for what your moral can’t handle.
Best before it is gone.
Best before you’ve done too much
but have so little done.
Best before you ask.
Best before you make a point.
Best before purpose is guile.
Best before you gain conscience
of the stretch of your smile.
Best before you are only baggage.
Best before the date shown
in the inside of your own package.
Best before you sell.
Best before you buy.
Best before you voice reasons.
Best before you die.