Monday 14 March 2016

New Memory Cafe Poems

Started working with Westminster Arts in a new Memory Cafe in Hammersmith. A new poem, inspired by the participants' chat over tea and cake as they painted pots and planted seeds.

The Painting of Pots

She paints her pot a vibrant purple and blue
freely, yet tempered
by design.
A Rothco from the fabric of Africa.

Today was a storm in a teapot.
The husband she cares for
at home,
once a tv and radio mechanic,
can no longer put the tv on.

It's a big patience
she says,
indicating Kahn's fancy china cup
from Peckham.

If he says teapot
and she says teacup
the problems start.
So now she says teapot.

She came by sea in the Seventies,
hot from Sierra Leone,
used an afro wig, platforms and flares
and met him through her brother,
who didn't like the idea,
them both coming from different backgrounds.
But who listens to their brother?

The days of autocratic men are quickly going,
says the man from Grenada,
Round the table the women laugh.

She calmly paints,
precise strokes that allow the pattern to emerge,
a blue eye leaps from the royal purple
like a spot on the surface of Jupiter.

It's a big patience.

Monday 1 February 2016

The Daffodils

One of the poems for Dad whose birthday would have been this month.

The Daffodils

When the Daughter returned
From the meeting with the Registrar,
Stone in heart, unbelieving –
The man did not know her father,
Hell bent on putting
The hateful year behind him –
When she returned,
Smile mask in position,
He fixed her with his one good eye and said,
I thought I’d at least make it to the Spring!
Mortified, she lied,
No one said you wouldn’t, Dad.
But the Registrar had said
Dead by Christmas.

In a corner of the front garden,
Always his domain,
The Mother had no interest in that lawless patch
Flanking car and step,
There now began a pushing and swelling
Beneath the frozen earth,
Driving juice green flow against the clock.

And lo!
Three daffodils burst through the January snow,
Loyal against all odds,
Sounding the trumpet for Dennis
Who put the old behind him
Against all odds
In a miracle of Spring.

up against a brick wall

Just testing new blog! What a joke!!