O Tempora O Mores

O Tempora O Mores

Somewhere between the words
Never uttered
Entirely, so it seemed, taboo
For mother, born after
Cataclysm , men shot, shell-shocked
For cowardice,
Before uncovering, discovering
Of trauma, ego, stress
Before we were all worth it
And seeking of satisfaction
Valid as a lifetime pursuit
Self esteem to be nurtured
Not crushed and curbed
Children shushed
Out of sight
Between the stiffened,
Buttoned proud to be British
Upper lip
And the let go let loose
Confessional cathartic
Drop of a hat
Tell-all no holds barred
Love you the new telephone farewell
Kiss kiss the new hello
Just at that moment
Grey time, black and white time
Watershed children, we were born
Then firmly raised
Taught to be strong, show respect
Avoid bringing shame
But the times certainly – harmonica plaintive-
A-changing, see us now
Anachronisms all
Relics, curiosities
From a world this long time gone

28th September 2009 Hounoux

A Life

A Life

Looked at one way
It’s a game, throw the dice
How will they fall, befall
Random, no reason nor rhyme
But not all, for element of choice
Free will, have to admit
Here, there, crucially
Sometimes does have a part
To play
See it in review, backwards
Pattern emerging
There where this path
Person, partner, career
Fatherland, motherhood
Is chosen/ rejected, opting this way
Not that, road consequently
Not travelled
At the crossroads, full facts
Consequences unavailable to know
Just out of sight
Perhaps there’s a quagmire
Not oasis at all,
Land on a ladder or straight
Down the snake.
Throw the dice. How will they fall?
Perhaps they’ve been loaded
The odds stacked against you
Or fate’s on your side?
Call it a story, a sport, gambled chance
Sing in a poem, a song or a dance
Depict as a journey, high opera
Low budget froth,
In it to win it, or game for a laugh
Useless to wonder
Answers withheld
So whistle for comfort
Smack on a smile
One step, one day at a time, and
Right on down the road

13th September 2009, Grenoble

Metamorphosis

Metamorphosis

Day by day the world is shifting, turning
Tilt, sun now angled in the Autumn sky,
The annual miracle is under way
Earth begins its glorious transformation
First scarlet berries, ochre leaves
Claret and orange, burnt sienna vines
Thick the textures umber on the fields
Ploughed and furrowed, line by line
And all beneath a cornflower sky

Luminescent
As if the season’s artists
Commissioned perhaps
Had drunk too deep of the gathered grape
Heady, bibulous, tumbled in the harvest trucks
And swaggered, staggered, bold brush in hand
Brash, clashing, brazen palette mixed
To dress the landscape, Summer parched
Bleached pale, in richest velvet
Royal sumptuous robes
All subtlety eschewed
To sing full-throated song
Season exuberant
Over-indulged
Filling the senses
Sating and drowsing the land
Paean of praise for perfection
Loud and proud, October hymn

October 16th 2009, Hounoux

Life and Death

Life and Death

Still life
Quiet white
Curved and cupped
The rise of breasts
Lilting upward rounded
Mounds
Shadowed shades on woman’s form

Pale in death
La nature morte
Chinese robe for funeral wear
Shades of meaning
Casting shadows
Lopped the still and lifeless limbs
Frozen moment
Cold as cold
White on white the painting grows

Dip the brush
The telling line
Make the mark
Lay bare the tale
Silent wordless
Speaking volumes
Bloody blooms the scarlet blossom
White on white the painting grows

8th October 2009, Hounoux

Dot to Dot

Dot to Dot

Back then, times got hard,
Inner city, life not without its challenges
Dot to dot and colouring in
We said, half at least in jest
Morning break, desperate
Last cigarette or brown and tannin tea
Rubbed out, eradicated
Whiteboard clean
Naturally, before the clipboards came
With lists, humourless, to tick
Or not, lacking all sense
Of fun, or what it takes
Times get hard, to survive
Like crossword grids
And poetry
Dot to dot the joining up
Give me order, logic neat
Ah ha moment, penny
Dropped, ducks so soothing in a row
Puzzled solved
Chaos for a moment quelled
Sweet illusion, bring it on
Wipe the worktops
Shine the floor
Solve the mystery poet hid
Though anarchy in patience wait
Join the dots and colour in

October 11th 2009, Hounoux

Poet's footsteps

Poet’s footsteps

The poet’s art do I detect
To follow clues and then connect
Nose out scents, say madeleine
And smell the memory come again
To read the runes like vapour trails
Hear the secret song of whales
Watch the babe and see the man
Mine the future if you can
Search for breadcrumbs, pebbles mark
A hidden route through world gone dark
Or thread the pebbles on a chain
Spider’s web bejewelled with rain
In glass suspended rainbows dance
Weave with words the mystic trance
Love the language, make it sing
Create a necklace on a string
Pearls or teardrops let it shine
Leave it for a travellers’ sign
The poet’s footsteps careful fall
Lost world explorer for us all

October 3rd 2009, Hounoux

Slow Gardening

Slow Gardening

The gardener at Cormatin
One of three, his work among the formal beds
Smiled and spoke of what he loved
Described himself as slow
No speed was in his day
I heard the beauty in that word
Where some perhaps would frown
Tut in censure, bustle by
At least a hundred synonyms
Are listed here, like lazy
Dumb and dull, lagging, slack
Or plodding, dilatory, dense
Stagnant, tiresome, just plain late
The list is sluggish, snail-like, thick
A heavy-footed catalogue
Lumpen trails across the page
But speedy world, all rushing on
Some treasure may be missed
The loveliness in largo
Lingering andante lentissimo
The gift of time unhurried
The beauty of the slow

4th October 2009, Hounoux

Cormatin

Cormatin

A walk in the garden with friends
Formal French geometry
Clipped in hedges box and yew
Dug in diamonds curbed clean kempt
Ancient treasure here restored
And careful modern in the midst, permitted wildness
Grasses blow

At every turn a new delight
Autumn colours shimmer bright

Sun on water, ripples, geese
Crimson deckchair on the lawn
Look, secret wonder through the arch
A potager that brims and bursts
Sings and laughs and calls us in
An artist’s palette here deployed
To feast the senses, soothe the soul
Every shade and colour splashed
To clash and contrast, blend and match

At every turn in mellow light
A walk with friends for sheer delight

30th September 2009, Lys, Burgundy, for Sue and Di

Passing Nimes

Passing Nimes

The sun astonishing
Crimson filled the sky
Floating, hung on the horizon
Moment of suspense
As we sped by

A last lantern show
Shadow shapes of clouds crossing
Two in silhouette, fishermen
Slow punting on reddest lake
As we sped by

Then to right the west for miles
Suffused with tangerine and peach
Glowing, stark the hills in black
And left, the moon in splendour rose
As we sped by

1st October 2009, passing Nimes on the autoroute, en route home, for Jude who loves sunsets