Monday, 28 September 2015

They All Did What They Could

The rain makes 
a fold of petals

blue shadows 
foretell the future.

The wind spins 
cellophane.

The moon rises
earth turns iron.

A threefold 
dazzle of sun.

Water, wood 

they all did
what they could.

Tuesday, 22 September 2015

And What Use Shall We Find For The Haunted House?

And what use shall we find for the haunted house? 
Can we sell it or rent it with a clear conscience? 

You carry on with the task of emptying cupboards and drawers. 
Things turn up. Shades that cast no shadows. 

With a finger you draw a white circle. 
It seems to be working 

the season, if not the house, 
reluctant to give up the ghost.

Sunday, 20 September 2015

Western Tesserae



1870 
and the twitch 
of a dry grass stem 
gets etched 
on the memory

the broken edges of the day 
tethered to a ghost 
with the turning 
of a badge oak moon
as the snapped-back sheriff 
shoots 
straight from the shoulder
in a midnight 
no-man 
no-man’s-land.

Trouble. Trouble 
rides thru the horse 
his hoofs 
placed 
on perfect stones
broken 
chalk flowers 
with black/white stems 
and the smoulder 
of fallen 
fish bone 
x-ray 
leaves


Stops 
to drink a brew 
from the star bottles 
packed with the glint 
of mirrors 
and pearls 
from a sunken 
blue saloon.



I might get run out of town or lay a ghost to rest forever
deliberate choice in words, selection from the colour box 
of tone
although 
I did at least 
make you smile.

Little to go on, 
no forthcoming lines 
tethered to obvious hooks

each time his eyes travel 
through the constellations 
he was met with the stones 
the silence of forestations.


Clouds silt the silent streams.


Stairs woven from whispers descend, 
white at the edges 
as if dipped in snow
the places for your feet to follow
shrouded in gloom

blue light radiates 
thru silent glass flowers.

Clouds cover the red phone in the oak leaves
the only way now
to send the pieces
across the miles
into the Old Country

even though I know 
you don’t even live there anymore.





Friday, 4 September 2015

Rain

Some bemoan the rain.
Others go to the house of Tom Bombadil.




Tuesday, 1 September 2015

The Season Changes

The season changes. 
It’s only the first day of September 
and already the shadows 
of the pine trees grow darker.

Pages

Morlock Oil

Morlock Oil
A new collection of stories available now . Click on image for details.

The Quest Of Great Celtic Mystery

The Quest Of Great Celtic Mystery
New Chapbook Available (email rockinahill@gmail.com for details)

Furrow

Furrow
Bunchgrass Press

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