WeightWatching

WeightWatching

Early Tuesday morning, right after ten
I’m standing in the judgment line, nervous again
I’ve run from the bus stop, been to have a pee
Now it’s time to face the weighing scales fear-less-ly
I’ve tracked every mouthful, logged all I’ve eaten
Those three extra stones of fat, have to be beaten
What about the glass of wine, the sticky toffee pud
Italian at Carluccio’s, maybe not so good?
The weekly assignation, moment with the data
Will it show on the dial that I scarfed those roast potata?
All along the queue we’re skinny sorts and fatter
All of us anxious, chat chat chatter
I’ve inched my way forward to the front, with miss
What’ll be the verdict, despair or bliss?
I’ve taken off my watch and shoes, worn my lightest things
Now I’m praying for a good result, to give me wings
Tread very lightly, softly on the scale
In the battle of the bulge, lord, don’t let me fail
So this is the lot of the WeightWatching crew
Tuesdays at ten o’clock, how will we do?

January 27th 2010, Brighton

You two stood waving

You two stood waving

You two stood
Waving
And I lurched from the slow train
Stop stop stopping
Head full of buzz in a seethe of mad drones
My chest in a vice
For I had been long hours locked
Blasted in an information-overload
( My Saturday newspaper of choice )
I was battleground and fierce the fires burned

Can you hear the people sing
Singing the song of angry men
Where the hell to put the outrage
Should we build the barricades?

You two stood
Laughing
Seized my luggage, took my hands
And I counted all my blessings
As your loving held my heart

24th January, Brighton, for Pam and Jude, two who stood waving, with my love

Identity

Tenuous
A fragile necklace strung
Or Larkin’s frail travelling coincidence
The stuff of dreams blown in a pipe
Dandelion globes
Our little life, bounded with a sleep
Though once it seems
We all were stars
Not dust to dust
But debris, shining shower
Fallout from celestial bang
Now plaited in a double helix twist
Blueprint mapped
Look there the chin cleft, curly hair
Or tendency to fat
But where the particle poetic
The heart and eye, hand to hold the pen,
Love’s lilting soul?
Ego superego id
Unfathomable mystery
Hid

11th January 2011, Brighton