A for Blog

Farewell Janet Frame
for whom
life was half
fear befriended,
fully fun,
and death
a great adventure.

Dearest — I may call you
dearest, after all this time?
For decades I’ve admired you . . .

The warmth of you, the strength of you,
the start of you, the voice of you,
the choice of you, the art of you,

the mighty brain and heart of you.
Your spine and flaws that look
so good and work so well.

At last I’ll say it, loud and clear:
I love you — want you — thank you, dear,
my sturdy, splendid body.

In your eyes
you keep a sunset
and a city.

Your listening is for me
a gift, a lift.
At last, the fourteenth floor.

Early morning monochrome.
A white teapot
a blackbird
and the news.

Overnight, all words
are rinsed ready
for new adventures.
Even words like “ventures”,
“co-finance” and “leukemia.

Hash is number, a digital slice
precise. But also dope and
stew, ragout like me and you.

Enter your number and press
the hash key now. That’s that
trapdoor out of the bright world

down the hatch into a hutch
a clutch of noughts and crosses
tic tac toe, that’s where they go.

No loss of matter possible, yet there —
it’s gone. Put the receiver down.
Don’t make a botch of it, now.

He walked up the hill
as usual unusual
the leg heavy woodn’t go,
like a ship with a screw in tow
below. One more step,
leg too long, lift from the knee, try
from thigh more high,
the stiff upper hip.

A poem debates,
illustrates, illuminates,
and inflates.

At dusk I want to be
with you, and stay.
I love it when you ask
about my day.

Your marrow misbehaves
but a large part of you
is dancing.

Your heart is dancing a minuet,
dancing through
and in you,

and you are truly you yet,
deep as cells, deep
as metaphysics.

Happy New Year
Happy New You
Happy You Near
Happy Me too