Nurofen Nightmare

Nurofen Nightmare

The headache comes slowly
Shuffling in socks
Tiptoeing in, finger on lips
Furtively glancing
Then silently settles, brooding
To wait
Wait. Ah! Now is the moment
Time to expand, stretch limbs
Try a tentative tap
Now another, let’s make it a riff
Drag out the snare drum, the cymbal, high hat
Tappety tap, Fred Astaire with the shoes
Soft shoe shuffle hop step, syncopate
Accentuate, hip hop, raga and rap
Now lifting the tempo, Count Basie in swing
Chorus of trumpets in unison swing
Joyfully tapping in puddles and storm
Swing round the lampposts
In happy refrain, laughing and singing
Happy again
The thunderclouds building
Horizon pitch dark
Bring on the big guns
The cannons, why not
The climax is coming, the pulsing, the pounding
Carmina burana insistent drum thrumming

All the percussion in unison clashing, cymbals together merciless crashing
Napoleon’s armies in overture battle
1812 slaughter with bugles and cannon
Crescendo cacophony, enough now, enough!
Call ceasefire, surrender, raise the white flag
I’m routed, exhausted, head in my hands
Defeated, a prisoner, lock me in chains
Switch off the lights and muffle the drums
Whisper it softly, tiptoe as you go
Let there be mercy
Petition for peace

August 10th 2009 Hounoux

When I was a giant

When I was a giant

Once the whole of your sweet self
Wet from the bath
Would fit in the dip in the bowl of my lap
For a making-it-better or
Comfort of dreams
An Eskimo/ butterfly kiss
Sung in a lullaby
Swung from the stars
When I was a giant and you just a child
I wrestled with dragons and
Mended it all, the teddy’s burst stuffing
The tangles in hair
The friends who were vicious, neglectful, called names
I watched the horizon for trouble to come
With plasters and ointment
With warm winter coats
With warnings and counsel
With day-glo reflectors, inflated armbands

But now we are older
And you are the one
The tigress protecting her beautiful young
Fighting such battles
Heart brave but life-scarred
I weep when I hear you
And rail against fate
Now that you’re out in the jungle alone
Weep by the phone in impotent rage
Donning my giant boots, super-power cape
Sheathing my sword and preparing to stride
Swift over mountains, the thousands of leagues
To rescue my loved ones with flashing of blade
To scoop you up gently
And bring you back home
Fairy tale ending, a port in a storm
Where people are waiting who love you the best
With plasters and ointment, unlimited love
A wandful of wishes
The comfort of dreams

7th August 2009 Hounoux

La Nuit Blanche

La Nuit Blanche

The night was white and sleepless
Dreamless, though the lion
And his pride roared, growled, grumbled
In the thick black sky
Somewhere by now over Europe
Say Southern Grecian isles
A plane was on its way
Winking blinking on its way
Steadfast, freighted with the ones loved
Joining the dots, making the links
And in a winter Sydney office one man
Prayed his child was sleeping, wife was coping
(Though he knew that god was gone)
While a thousand miles apart, rain of England, heat of France
Two grandmothers held their breath and waited
Waited, for the dawn and love to come

6th August 2009, Hounoux

Soul Food for Sale

Soul Food for Sale

In the midst of the market, the Monday mêlée
Fighting through throngs, all manner of tongues
Visiting English and German and Dutch
Merchants all clamouring, sample the wares
Sausages, cheeses, fruit from the farm
Bags full of lavender, rainbows of beads,
Fashion from India, cottons and silks
Spices exotic, strawberry plants
In the midst of the noise and the colour, the smells
August in Mirepoix
Kaleidoscope tumbling
Jostling and jumbling
Still
Shade under arches
Stones mellowed with years
Smooth polished for years
An ancient oasis
Of coolness and calm
Quiet, the poet is sitting and selling
Distilled on the pages, the beauty of verse

3rd August 2009, Hounoux

Chanson d' Hounoux

Chanson d’ Hounoux

Listen carefully and watch
The village signposts say
For we have a story of times now long gone
When grandmother’s grandmother was but a girl
She skips into school, first sign in our trail
Our tale of a school girl, in pinafore white
Who lines up each morning, now hushed and polite
For maîtresse is waiting and looking quite stern
Can you hear them all clatter and chatter to desks
The scratch of the slates where the lessons are learned
We’ll leave them to puzzle and struggle with verbs
With forming of tenses, with avoir /être
For out of the windows the sun’s in the sky
The men of the village are harvesting home
Cutting the wheat for the miller to grind
This once was his windmill his moulin
Next sign, only sign of the purpose
The life once here lived, sails long since dipped
The noise and the dust and the business all gone
And only a short step, from miller to bread
See here’s the boulangerie, baker at work
The clue’s on the window, the letters half- peeled
Just smell the baguettes, petits pains and the flutes
Ready for midi, St Martin’s bell chimes
Bell-ringer punctual to signal the time
( Chimes still resounding, mechanical now)
When labourers all, from the field and the forge-
Next to the schoolyard where horses are stamping
Horse-shoes long buried still lending a clue-
Village is heeding the call, not to prayer
But sacred observance, the midday repas
For this is the story of times now long gone
When those in the graveyard were noisy with life
Not silent, eternal, guarding the hill
Bequeathed to their children the tilling of fields
A story of people who love their terroir
Still making their mark in the rich soil of France

2nd August 2009, Hounoux, inspired by Jenny's ' Granny's Apples'

The South and the Summer, the Sun

The South and the Summer, the Sun

The land lies stunned sun-blasted
Pulsing far out hazy days lazy days
Shimmers and shifts mirage tricks
And bold as gold brazen brass
Essence of yellow, heads up
Look you in the eye, proud to be out
The psychedelic sunflowers stand
Serried ranks, ready to sing and to zing
The south and the summer, the sun

Hallucination drug-free trip
A walk at the end of the day
Clinging to shade to coolness of glade
Filling the senses and flexing the soul
The ochres, siennas, the Prussian, the rose
A palette a painting a poem
A snap for the album, mind’s eye
Make me bold give me voice, inspire
For I’m ready to sing and to zing
The south and the summer, the sun

2nd August 2009 Hounoux

Sleep Hibernate Shut Down

Sleep Hibernate Shut Down

Sleep hibernate shut down
The choice you offer nightly
And how would it be for me
If this once I just snapped tightly
Closed entrances, ears nose and eyes
Forgot the voices clamouring and ties
Opted for out of it, made like the bears
Curled up with the tortoise for sweet beddy-bies
Found a warm hidey-hole, far from the phone
The winking of messages, flash of the text
Cleared all the diaries, said some farewells
Blanked out the pages, the future, the next
Took a deep breath and slowed to a crawl
Hunched up, turned my back as winter snows fell
Slept through the freeze, economic and real
The nightly detailing of soldiers in hell
The famines, disasters, bad news by the hour
Dragging us under in rage and despair
The issues, Big Issues, for country and globe
Injustice, destruction, outrage and nightmare

It’s only a moment of choice on the screen
Sleep hibernate shut down, fingertip touch
Fantasy reveries, swiftly declined
How do I love thee, world, oh how much!
With all of the torments, the wicked, the sad
I’ll cling to the sunlight, the moonlight, the air
The loving, connecting, the struggle, delight
Ineffable beauty, the precious, the rare
It’s all of a piece, the rough with the smooth
The yin and the yang, the shadow the light
So all of my days, no brainer, of course
I’ll stick with the programme, til final goodnight

August 1st 2009 Hounoux