Concordance

This concordance provides an index to every word in the poems, excluding a list of common "stopwords". It may be useful in finding a half-remembered poem, and perhaps in looking at the usage of words in the poems as a whole. It will be readable only on a large screen.

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z

A

Carl Orf // // still at school // //

Aaron Copland and Kurt Weill // // in their cots // // William Walto

January Nineteen Hundred and One

d. // // Unused parts from finished or

abandoned projects, // // pieces half-constructed or half-deconstruct

e, along with // // all the other long-

abandoned projects.) // // This one started with an almighty bang //

full spate. // // Now my headlong dash

abates — // // where I once was, the waders team, // // rich foraging

k up the river Wharfe, // // to Bolton

Abbey , and the Strid beyond, // // and Barden Bridge—and now I flick

Daydream Dale Journey

ild clouds across the sky, // // lying

abed beneath the cobwebbed rafters, // // warm and dry. // // On wat

Recorded syllables

lind. // // A storm is raging as I lie

abed , // // whipped wide awake by what the thunder said. // // Rain

// An assault on my dignity. // // An

abrogation of my autonomy. // // Objective // // In my groin and in

Capricorn suite

er day // // to feel your ever-present

absence , still // // to find a way. // // I hear you say, // // “Bu

balance here. The bad // // is bad in

absolute , while the good // // is good only in relation to the bad. /

Capricorn suite

ord // // No, the singularity is quite

absurd . // // In the beginning there were many words: // // sitting,

ake train // // what a pain // // and

absurd // // slave again // // pull chain // // be bold // // brak

/ // // // Somewhere deep down in my

abysmal gut // // (well, really, just around the final bend) // // t

Capricorn suite

/ But rising gave me sight // // of an

acacia , a fence and many // // trees around the edges of a field. //

Beds and trees and windows

Ever tried // // // // tried to

accept // // tried to climb // // tried to find // // tried to forg

No rage— // // just a sort of passive

acceptance . // // Set against this, a certain toughness, // // hidde

Cape Cod Morning // // Almost

accidental , but carefully composed: // // the sky behind the trees be

Cape Cod Morning

on random patterns form—until // // an

accidental spiral sequence finds // // that it can make itself again,

rple sage to lie. // // A Cheshire cat

accosted them, // // then walked his wild way // // alone. In Swale

// // The tide begins its steady, slow

accretion // // Hear the marsh-birds calling // // in places it has

d undecorated, but with marks and signs

accumulated over a century and a bit. There is an area about 2ft squa

Fragments of a life

’s // // soapy place. // // So apply,

ace : // // scope a play // // apocalypse. // //

// // to write // // a fib on // //

achievement , but got // // only a fib on a cheap pun // // … a swind

Fibonacci series

/ // dip our feet into water clear and

achingly cold, // // and dry them on warm rock. // //

already elderly // // when my mother,

acquiring a newer model, donated // // the reject to us for our new h

Good vibrations

a million years, // // it seems to be

acting // // not in its own best interests. // // Too bad. // // Po

Capricorn suite

through the double-starred list of the

actinoids // // ‡ by means of reactors or colliders or other toys //

and planets overhead // // as well as

actions close at hand // // (the apple said), // // to comprehend th

reated for the stage // // by the best

actors of the age. // // Thank you for calling Shakespeareline. // /

Septilla CDSeptilla CD*

s if on the shoulders of its owner, but

actually empty. // // The sitting room of our house in Pec

Fragments of a life

a gear, and take a lurch // // at some

acute , unmeasured angle. // // Last September, meeting you. // // Th

ittle else arrayed? // // I think he’d

add a note to his remark— // // in truth, how cheesy is the sometime

For Robert Graves

on— // // when the time comes, I might

add , not just yet. // //

Voices, ipods, phones speak out— // //

add to the road’s cacophony. // // Dialectic // // Voices coming fro

Voices, ipods, phones speak out— // //

add to the road’s cacophony. // // Through air and ether people mutte

on wood- // // and metal-working vices

added to those // // caused by generations of kitchen knives. // //

hape of things: // // the steps which,

added up, construct // // my life. // // Most of the steps are small

t to pilfer // // the clusters beyond,

adding scratches // // to the stains already covering your fingers //

Need just a few more. // // How about

adding space, time, love? // // … three fibs about fibs… // // One,

Fibonacci series

sing a charcoal stick, makes some small

additions . And it becomes a scene, a group of people in evening dress

Fragments of a life

om Japan whose verses never would scan,

adds an extra list. // // As we* reach the sixth and seventh periods,

st fine. // // But seven feet! I must

admit that seems exceeding wide, // // as if to start out on a voyage

he rubrik of Boris the Mad. // // He’d

adore such a grand and flamboyant adventure—to // // jump on the band

Troubled waters

ign of the deep bay windows that // //

adorn most later London terraced fronts. // // One of a block of four

Peckham 1969—1991

ive me some wind to blow us away // //

Adrift the middle of the sea // // Way-hay, blow us away // // And t

he fish, the dinosaurs, the apes // //

advance across the generations. Each // // sentient being touches and

a temporary home, until // // the next

adventure . // // (One time, though, the hollow holds // // a real li

He’d adore such a grand and flamboyant

adventure —to // // jump on the bandwagon he’ll be glad.” // // The B

Troubled waters

// // Washing // // Plan finances—get

advisor ? G’s contact maybe // // Ring M about Xmas // // Ring Tony D

Notes to a life

e. // // An owl, a leaping fish, a fox

afar — // // night-time noises permeate the air. // // Someone snorin

creek // // bearing loose things left

afloat . // // Behind each moored boat runs a wake: // // time to gus

// blitz on Sheffield. // // In north

Africa , D is killed. // // Later, one of the lodgers— // // Polish s

Ninety-six and counting

en of course it snows again. // // One

afternoon for one brief hour // // the air is warm enough to melt //

Walking in winter

ments, taken // // out of time. // //

Afternoon in winter, on the ramparts // // looking seaward, sun behin

Recorded syllables

ge, circa 1966 // // One cold winter’s

afternoon // // we walk to the edge of town and on // // the mile ac

Walking in winter

// a Beethoven string quartet. // //

Afterwards Colin and I go down to the basement // // —the real cremat

cooked and served. // // What happens

afterwards you don’t explain. // // Perhaps they eat it with the othe

On offerings to the gods

night // // in the oven of the pre-war

Aga , they will emerge // // a startling deep red, and taste delicious

Beside it stands another of much later

age : // // a plastic chest with small, clear plastic drawers // // —

// We are not so far behind. // // Old

age ain’t no place for sissies. // // —Bette Davis // //

/ Not to return to old // // ways—that

age // // has passed. What should // // we salvage from it, what bu

Childsplay // // Later,

age maybe eight or ten, // // I would play competitive games // // i

obvious culprit here, // // except for

age , pure and simple. No rage— // // just a sort of passive acceptan

stage // // by the best actors of the

age . // // Thank you for calling Shakespeareline. // // * pronounced

Septilla CDSeptilla CD*

hs pregnant at the time. A tiny middle-

aged New York woman, sitting on a bench seat, observes the situation,

Fragments of a life

just so, // // a pretty maiden, heart

aglow // // will sit and spin, so full of grace, // // far away and

The world just so

ms almost horizontal; // // East Hills

aglow . // // Winds moaning round the corners and the rooftops, // //

Recorded syllables

full of grace, // // far away and long

ago . // // A fairy, good or bad, will know // // exactly when to sho

The world just so

man sacrifice, // // far away and long

ago . // // A handsome prince will boldly go // // and dangers great

The world just so

// simply erase them. // // Four years

ago a storm demolished // // the dunes on the beach across the creek

// —A fragment, formulated forty years

ago // // and filed in the middens of my mind. // // And in my mind

It’s a level measured // // a century

ago and // // three hundred and forty miles // // to the south-west:

world just so // // Far away and long

ago , // // once upon a time and place, // // the world just so, //

The world just so

// // that we bought some forty years

ago . // // One of the legs had rotted half away. // // But a new pie

onfess to having owned // // long long

ago , that icon of // // a time and maybe social group // // —and the

Donkeys don’t wear jackets

ago // // The railway line passes near. // // After the engine’s noi

s to displace, // // far away and long

ago , // // the world just so. // //

The world just so

tside. // // (But that was forty years

ago // // —these days his hair is white all through.) // // ‘Every m

Walking in winter

/ From the moment almost a half-century

ago // // when I first met your daughter // // I have known fragment

Ninety-six and counting

st in the mist. // // Forty-some years

ago , when I first walked // // this path, it would have been // // a

lerized. // // Broken? It must be, if

agony’s evidence. // // Lying there wondering whether there’s any cha

had to call // // a halt to worry, and

agreed to sell // // for demolition, move to Camberwell. // // (Two

Peckham 1969—1991

ny erection to // // burnish my halo.

Ah , I have a whim // // to build a fine bridge clear across a great r

Troubled waters

No. // // But which jacket yesterday?

Ah , that one. // // But no. // // Table by door? // // No. // // K

Another senior moment

es, // // dark against the sky. // //

Ahead , another line, // // flat and sharp and natural too: // // pal

y, I catch glimpses // // of the ranks

ahead . // // But mostly, I can see // // only the back // // of the

this cataclysm? // // Now the one just

ahead // // goes head over heels // // on hard, unyielding // // ro

/ // And the noise. // // A few ranks

ahead , I see them // // rearing up, up, turning over // // and hear

// // Derwent behind me and scrambles

ahead of me. // // Out of the pastures and onto the fell side, still

hes and the sea. The sun // // is low

ahead of us, the sky is clear. // // Across the wood, onto the beach.

Wells in winter

speed. // // Build power. // // Forge

ahead . // // Spread. // // Reach. // // Slacken. // // Settle. //

e are not so far behind. // // Old age

ain’t no place for sissies. // // —Bette Davis // //

// What do they know, the rain and the

air ? // //

The rain and the air

re, // // leaving us the water and the

air . // //

pipe heating up. // // That breath of

air ? A passing presence? // // Don’t be silly, that’s just a draught

h and to and fro, // // in a flat calm

air . A winter storm // // brings wild mountains of water crashing do

to the road’s cacophony. // // Through

air and ether people mutter, shout, // // voices, ipods, phones speak

// High up above, at the edges of the

air // // and the beginning of space // // the sky is dark, but the

t, and breathe some more the cool clear

air . // // Beyond the scree the open path leads on, // // a gentler

Daydream Dale Journey

// The others too I love—Earth, Water,

Air —but Fire // // is something else again. // // A memory // // (n

valley sound // // through still, warm

air , // // clear to my vantage point on higher ground. // // Voices

/ to lie on the earth, // // smell the

air , // // feel the warmth of the fire, // // listen to the lapping

Periodical // // Earth,

air , // // fire and water: just the four— // // but the chemists ne

// Elemental fib… // // Earth, // //

air , // // fire, // // and water. // // Need just a few more. // /

Fibonacci series

afternoon for one brief hour // // the

air is warm enough to melt // // the topmost layer. The frost return

Walking in winter

/ // along the open beach, in rich sea

air . // // Look up, look up, my love—the sky is calling. // // Dark

Wells in winter

ater, sky and earth // // and rock and

air ; no fire and no gold, // // no gems nor coins nor jewels; just th

Daydream Dale Journey

valley sound // // through still, warm

air . // // On the top deck of a 68 // // Voices, ipods, phones speak

// // the spray rises a mile into the

air // // (or so it seems to me), to crash back down— // // you must

Walking in winter

nd signal fires // // blazing into the

air . // // Our space is the earth, // // time lives in fire, // //

ed in inky water, // // the cool night

air // // slows down time. // // Now is the time // // to lie on th

— // // night-time noises permeate the

air . // // Someone snoring in the tent next door, // // a motorcycle

// What do they know, the rain and the

air ? // // The drystone wall slanting across the moor, // // the hea

The rain and the air

// What do they know, the rain and the

air ? // // The glistening mud left by the ebb-tide. // // The moored

The rain and the air

// What do they know, the rain and the

air ? // // The hedgerow, the field, the rapeseed and the corn. // //

The rain and the air

// What do they know, the rain and the

air ? // // The roof, the ridgetiles, the leaves in the leaded gully.

The rain and the air

ming sunlight. Soak up the rays and the

air . // // Transform the coloured flower into coloured flesh // // a

d hide a secret inside. // // Feel the

air . Turn in the four winds. Broadcast the secret // // to earth, as

The rain and the

air // // // // What do they know, the rain and the air? // // The

The rain and the air

le. // // Tony Blair // // floated on

air // // when Maggie’s encomium // // came to be known to ’im. //

s // // Night-time noises permeate the

air // // with voices human, animal, machine. // // An owl, a leapin

. // // Night-time noises permeate the

air // // with voices human, animal, machine. // // In hospital //

nted and timed. // // Philosophies are

aired , // // temple columns spaced, // // lightning rods earthed. //

s the waters // // blow the evanescent

airs // // moistening the many-coloured earths. // // In forests and

// // On a galloping horse— // // But

Aix was as far as he went. // // In Friday Market square // // Jacob

A poem for free

great curved horns // // stands tense,

alert and staring. A few // // feet away, a sheep, cowering // // —

South London standoff

e know but little // // across so many

alien lands and seas // // some people have some nasty new disease. /

ou, // // and could the last person to

alight please switch off the lights. // // This departure has arrived

tive route which is // // known as the

Allerdale Ramble, traversing a // // difficult scree but then joining

k Parade; Pretoria Road // // streets;

alleys ; cycle paths // // One to two thousand: Jesus College // // T

make my muse suggest // // just three

alliterative lines—at best // // a semi-stanza—and then to cease? It

, makes everyone shuffle up in order to

allow Judith to sit down. They obey her, all shapes and sizes of New

Fragments of a life

// so that the same period games // //

allow the lines to peter out // // and stop. // // † as we step thro

g explorers—a // // challenge I cannot

allow to go answerless. // // Lone expedition to conquer the mountain

// were magnificent, but could not be

allowed // // to remain in occupation of that space. // // And so, f

tail and flee // // as fast as breath

allows us, not to feel safe // // until inside the house.) // // The

g. Gloves make the world go round, and

all’s fair in gloves and war, though the course of true gloves never d

Vagrant monosyllables

jects.) // // This one started with an

almighty bang // // —thought it was going to be a disaster // // but

ow of your life! // // From the moment

almost a half-century ago // // when I first met your daughter // //

Ninety-six and counting

Cape Cod Morning // //

Almost accidental, but carefully composed: // // the sky behind the t

Cape Cod Morning

billion random changes: all // // —or

almost all—are duds. Nevertheless // // ten thousand different specie

hind us, low, // // yellow light-beams

almost horizontal; // // East Hills aglow. // // Winds moaning round

Recorded syllables

/ slice alongside // // almost pole to

almost pole // // close as you can. // // Apple, pear: // // pole-t

the stone // // slice alongside // //

almost pole to almost pole // // close as you can. // // Apple, pear

// Small hour // // No voices in the

almost -silence that I hear, // // the soft subliminal sibilance of ni

lit, and fight. // // No voices in the

almost -silence that I hear, // // the soft subliminal sibilance of ni

uage in my ear, // // no voices in the

almost -silence that I hear. // // The words within my head, what do t

rought he forth; // // and at the end,

almost with dying breath, // // a swan-song, left behind for us to po

// // then walked his wild way // //

alone . In Swale- and Wensleydale // // they passed the following day

Your snore // //

Alone in the dark of the night // // I would’ve turned on the light..

d some clipping, shortening // // left

alone they easily win—but // // there was an old man called Michael F

ee-junction, and a line of sight // //

along a tree-lined road into the distance. // //

Beds and trees and windows

e of back gardens, full of trees // //

along a tree-lined road into the distance. // // The first bedroom I

Beds and trees and windows

res through the pane // // loop lazily

along and then // // greet each pole like a jumping jack. // // The

to locate. // // My spirit is with it,

along for the ride. // // I’m ready and waiting, I hope it’s not late

e verse form, you see, // // I can get

along just fine. // // But seven feet! I must admit that seems excee

moor. // // The treasures to be found

along my path // // are elemental: water, sky and earth // // and ro

Daydream Dale Journey

e stacked // // in increasing disorder

along the back // // of the bench, as far as the window. // // Some

h to the Martello tower, // // we walk

along the banked-up track // // behind the wall, level with the top,

Walking in winter

s // // come at an angle, sweep // //

along the beach. Each // // finds its own reach up the foreshore, //

Covehithe, Suffolk

ason, some young man will wander // //

along the byways, thoughts tragic or tender— // // of love unfinished

he wood—the fir // // and silver birch

along the dunes that run // // between the marshes and the sea. The

Wells in winter

not only on, but of, // // sand. All

along the foreshore, // // the remains of trees // // that once grew

Covehithe, Suffolk

s draining back towards the sea. // //

Along the margins waders // // scutter, scavenge—redshank, // // god

ning back again towards the sea. // //

Along the muddy margins, in the lee // // of the sea-wall, around the

on the sand. Eastwards we turn, // //

along the open beach, in rich sea air. // // Look up, look up, my lov

Wells in winter

ant concrete blocks // // on piles all

along the shingle beach. // // The mile south to the Martello tower,

Walking in winter

will last forever. // // At intervals

along the south horizon // // container ships in stately progress pas

ine’s noisy roar, // // coaches follow

along the track: // // the bogeys go: click-clack click-clack. // /

e bits // // are somewhere back there,

along with // // all the other long-abandoned projects.) // // This

st // // to hold the front page // //

along with the rest of that // // ink-spattered fragment of // // de

he flat sides of the stone // // slice

alongside // // almost pole to almost pole // // close as you can. /

glad we did not meet // // before the

alotted time: // // that we could reach this perfect knot // // and

that even if my audience hear it spoken

aloud rather than seeing it on the page they will certainly know it. /

g // // 2 forward: inspiration // //

Alpha , beta, gamma, delta. // // The way is clear. This formulation

we need to do is make connection // //

alpha to beta using this equation, // // then follow that suggestion

ench was once // // a kitchen dresser,

already ancient in // // the damp basement of the Peckham house // /

// (nineteen-sixty-one or so—my teens—

already // // between the end of the Chatterley ban // // and the Be

, adding scratches // // to the stains

already covering your fingers // // and your palms. Sometimes you mu

s // // The Bendix washing machine was

already elderly // // when my mother, acquiring a newer model, donate

Good vibrations

y feet. // // No time, no time. // //

Already I am toppling over him // // crashing, splitting, breaking. /

/ // into the hole. // // The run was

already old, dark green // // paint slowly decaying // // under the

all the while // // the crafty sea is

also digging down // // beneath the piles. Then one stormy night //

Walking in winter

sure to produce a fine plan. // // We

also need money—of course private finance will // // jump to join in,

Troubled waters

had forgotten // // that this equation

also needs some zeta factor // // and my clear beta, gamma, delta con

nd screaming of course // // but maybe

also wailing and gnashing our teeth // // into the maelstrom, the fir

January Nineteen Hundred and One

the pinnacle. // // Now to descend, an

alternative route which is // // known as the Allerdale Ramble, trave

ot far from land // // (Navigation was

always a difficult art, // // Though with only one ship and one bell.

All done with mirrors

ove the MAX level and ensure that it is

always above the MIN level. // // Only fill the kettle wit

Using your Kettle

s cracked // // And won’t be fixed and

always did refract // // The one before it into at least two. // //

All done with mirrors

was an old Fellow of Girton // // who

always made love with his shirt on. // // Saying “Now that I’m old, /

ill save electricity. // //

Always make sure that the lid is properly firmly closed. // //

Using your Kettle

ng melt. But an old pine forest // //

always provides a bridge. The trunks // // of fallen trees, fresh fr

// to take him to the house. // // I

always regretted, felt cheated by // // that twenty-minute hiatus. //

slides into the mist. // // Morning is

always the morning. // //

Morning // // // // Morning is

always the morning // // of an uncompleted day. // // Not until ligh

e setting sun. // // Later, the clouds

amass : // // watch now: if you blink you will miss // // the instant

wonderfully eccentric twentieth-century

American poet, // // Mr Ogden Nash, and carry on without much attenti

light, dimpse, mizzle, skylight // //

ammonite , mahogany, archive // // plummett // // Note: Fifty colour

ground to conquer. // // Spiders’ webs

among the undergrowth. // // Look closely: precise angular spirals /

e spout as this will help to reduce the

amount of limescale that builds up on the filter. // // Th

Using your Kettle

up on the filter. // // The

amount of water can be measured by the level mark on the outside of th

Using your Kettle

// Only fill the kettle with the

amount of water you need as this will save electricity. // //

Using your Kettle

ad to the Kröller-Müller museum outside

Amsterdam . The Hermitage in Leningrad in Soviet days. Kettle’s Yard

Fragments of a life

// … a swindle… // // [One iamb, two

anapest ] feet // // [make up an eight-syllable] beat. // // Selec- /

Fibonacci series

choke // // eat me instead. // // My

ancestor caused Eve to know // // more than Jehovah thought she shoul

als // // strung around precise radial

anchor lines. // // Across the channel, tidal creeks // // meanderin

once // // a kitchen dresser, already

ancient in // // the damp basement of the Peckham house // // that w

pe // // towards the river. A line of

ancient oaks // // (one blasted trunk is hollow through, and can be c

own // // tree-house, a canted deck of

ancient planks, // // nailed across two angled branches, reached //

ut wear or favour, fools rush in, where

angels wear to tread. I’ll wear not what men say. // //

Vagrant monosyllables

lurch // // at some acute, unmeasured

angle . // // Last September, meeting you. // // The world looks diff

day. So the breakers // // come at an

angle , sweep // // along the beach. Each // // finds its own reach

Covehithe, Suffolk

ncient planks, // // nailed across two

angled branches, reached // // by clambering the branches by the trun

were twittering. The twain // // with

anglo -saxon attitudes // // then to Caerphilly came. // // They ling

mmediately in front. // // The wind is

angry , howling and shrieking. // // It pushes us harder, // // makes

ergrowth. // // Look closely: precise

angular spirals // // strung around precise radial anchor lines. //

meate the air // // with voices human,

animal , machine. // // An owl, a leaping fish, a fox afar— // // nig

meate the air // // with voices human,

animal , machine. // // In hospital // // Voices from the curtained b

send us on our way. // // British Rail

announced that it would sink // // a hole to build the Channel Tunnel

Peckham 1969—1991

side the door. // // It really is very

annoying — // // I hope we don’t lose any more. // // Three of our cu

One of our cushions

Where have all the duffles gone? // //

Anoraks now, every one. // //

Donkeys don’t wear jackets

that. // // There’s only one possible

answer : // // this cat-burglar’s Buster the cat. // //

One of our cushions

a // // challenge I cannot allow to go

answerless . // // Lone expedition to conquer the mountaintop. // //

Anticipation // // Yes, there will be more. // // More hills, dales,

m the room next door: // // thesis and

antithesis , debate // // about it and about, and evermore // // voic

m the room next door: // // Thesis and

Antithesis debate. // // In the lecture room // // His voice is live

// No time // // for thesis // // or

antithesis . // // Have to cut straight to synthesis. // // Tried //

Fibonacci series

// // I could attract the attention of

anyone . // // Haven’t passed walkers for more than three hours now. /

// Wonder if I can get it to do // //

anything remotely interesting? // //

s I wouldn’t have put them. // // Move

anything they might be behind or under. // // Look inside anything th

Another senior moment

be behind or under. // // Look inside

anything they might be in. // // Turn the place upside down. // // B

Another senior moment

// P // // The fall is denied. // //

Anyway , the cancer can be blamed // // for many things. Hard to tell

Circle line // // Board

anywhere // //

has just joined // // the Société des

Apaches // // (or Bunch of Hooligans) // // later to enrol, when the

January Nineteen Hundred and One

ces through the brain // // and splits

apart Edwardian disdain. // // Man and drill are two, and now are one

Sculpting the vortex

smart // // smoke billows // // move

apart // // eyes smart // // flames creep // // move apart // // f

s smart // // flames creep // // move

apart // // flames leap // // flames creep // // growing bright //

ay pop case // // plea as copy. // //

Ape calypso // // place, so pay // // a cosy Apple // // app, coy s

he plants, the fish, the dinosaurs, the

apes // // advance across the generations. Each // // sentient being

line // // in something approaching or

aping the style of that wonderfully eccentric twentieth-century Americ

apply, ace: // // scope a play // //

apocalypse . // //

. // // (not the Pirates of Penzance –

apologies to WSG) // //

lace, so pay // // a cosy Apple // //

app , coy sale. // // Aye, cops lap // // a clay pope’s // // soapy

in the corner? The hem of an emerging

apparition ? // // Don’t be silly, that’s … omigod, it’s a cockroach!

looks clear. // // So life should now

appear // // as it did a month gone, // // BC (Before Capricorn). //

Capricorn suite

ypso // // place, so pay // // a cosy

Apple // // app, coy sale. // // Aye, cops lap // // a clay pope’s

r through the orchard, watch // // the

apple clusters sway, // // the clouds scud past, // // maybe catch /

. // // But no, for once // // cut an

apple // // equatorially // // see its secret: // // the apple is a

// have forever been lost // // if the

apple had chosen a dunce. // // // // There remains a small bruise

Newton’s counterfactuals

r far away, // // the thud as one more

apple hits the muddy grass. // // East wind // // Winds bowling thro

ially // // see its secret: // // the

apple is a five-pointed fruit. // //

led paddock and the orchard, // // the

apple on the tree, the windfall in the grass. // // What do they know

The rain and the air

st pole // // close as you can. // //

Apple , pear: // // pole-to-pole // // in half then quarters // // c

er // // for tomorrow’s blackberry-and-

apple pie // // —the ones you ate straight off the bush are saved for

His inspiration is not mine // // (the

apple said). // //

apple said // // // // Of course we’d like to understand // // the

ll as actions close at hand // // (the

apple said), // // to comprehend the universe // // both in the larg

t with them, nor comfort me // // with

apples , for I am well of love. // // The usual translation is not rai

The well of love

fruit-laden boughs bent to earth // //

apples in the grass // //

flagons, for I am well of love. // //

Apples may perhaps be comforting // // as any fruit, though Suliman’s

The well of love

t food. But comfort me not // // with

apples , nor with pilaf. I can’t speak // // for Suliman, but I am we

The well of love

the kettle, switch it on again. If the

appliance has just switched off you may have to wait a few minutes bef

Using your Kettle

ay pope’s // // soapy place. // // So

apply , ace: // // scope a play // // apocalypse. // //

k L’s dob—70 next b/day? // // Dentist

appointment —week of 10th // // Write poem for Weds // //

Notes to a life

rence. Walking in the drizzle the long

approach road to the Kröller-Müller museum outside Amsterdam. The Her

Fragments of a life

, standing up and hissing // // at our

approach . We turn tail and flee // // as fast as breath allows us, n

and write each line // // in something

approaching or aping the style of that wonderfully eccentric twentieth

n evening dress, top hats and the like,

appropriate to some earlier era of the house’s existence. We left the

Fragments of a life

or maybe Christmas cake, // // or more

appropriately , Suliman’s pilaf. // // But stay me not with them, nor

The well of love

from consideration // // and making an

approximate relation // // by tying beta up with mu and lambda. // /

aturity // // to an iron-gated pointed

arch // // piercing the wall, built like the house // // of weathere

or half-deconstructed, // // for some

architectural or mechanical purpose // // now half-forgotten. Electr

le, skylight // // ammonite, mahogany,

archive // // plummett // // Note: Fifty colours of Farrow & Ball /

ted edges. // // A bramble sends great

arcing shoots, // // strong curves lined with jagged thorns, // // s

over a century and a bit. There is an

area about 2ft square of brush marks in a darker paint, made by a hous

Fragments of a life

social, economic— // // or discourse,

argument of any kind— // // political, fictitious, mythologic // //

own the hatches // // closing down the

argument // // shutting down the computer // // tearing down the bar

Locking down too

Fire // // My sign is

Aries . Though it seems a poor // // fit for me, it is at least a Fir

our time on wild boar’s head. // // If

Aristotle makes you choke // // eat me instead. // // My ancestor ca

backwaters // // of the western spiral

arm (which will never be fashionable). // // See the slime on it? //

L-shaped the house; enclosed within its

arms // // a walled garden, left untended // // for maybe thirty yea

r place, a colder clime, // // with no

arms , one leg, no tail, but raised high, // // and head thrown back,

as winds of fortune blow, // // It was

arranged that she should go // // And take her place in service to //

The Lady’s Maid

y // // When, gleaming in his knight’s

array // // And gaily singing on his way // // Rode bold Sir Lancelo

The Lady’s Maid

// // in birthday suit and little else

arrayed ? // // I think he’d add a note to his remark— // // in truth

For Robert Graves

: // // had died three hours after his

arrival , // // was buried in an unmarked grave. // // There were no

Black September

e year that her first // // grandchild

arrived ? I can’t quite recall. Nor can I now // // picture it clear

Good vibrations

rtainly long before // // the children

arrived ) I divided each drawer // // into four or more sections, with

f the lights. // // This departure has

arrived . // // The locomotive will desist from locomotion, // // thi

F.B.L // // london clay, blackened,

arsenic // // railings, pointing, down pipe, clunch, setting plaster

t it felt right. // // Many

art galleries in many places. Three solid days in the Uffizi in Flore

Fragments of a life

/ // I’d paint it for you if I had the

art , // // Or maybe I should write it in a verse. // // But now the

// (Navigation was always a difficult

art , // // Though with only one ship and one bell.) // // we there d

All done with mirrors

/ // I’d paint it for you if I had the

art // // To you, this is a dream in which I’m caught // // Which, c

n Friday Market square // // Jacob van

Artevelde makes an expansive gesture // // towards the setting sun. /

A poem for free

ve, // // and bits of buildings, human

artifacts . // // Geological time // // is foreshortened. This is no

Covehithe, Suffolk

it. // // I go to work. // // Judith,

artist , // // models in clay or plaster, // // casts in plaster or c

eaming, lost in reverie. // // And the

artist who is showing us the scene // // —does he know what it is she

Cape Cod Morning

r hands). She introduced me to so many

artists . As I have visited other places, I have found other treasures

Fragments of a life

nd decay. In forgotten corners, // //

artists create and sometimes destroy. Did I really // // spring from

destroy // // so many poets and other

artists // // which will drag us // // kicking and screaming of cour

January Nineteen Hundred and One

f change? // // Well, yes. In all the

arts // // currents criss-cross, revolutions // // blossom and fade,

January Nineteen Hundred and One

Middle East // // Bam Posht; Badiyat

ash Sham; Bisharin // // railways; borders; deserts // // One to fiv

every day // // the embers beneath the

ash were darkly glowing, asking only // // a slight encouragement. A

/ funeral pyres.) Later we scatter the

ashes // // in a wild part of the old South London cemetery. // // P

// to the post office take it. They’ll

ask what’s inside. // // Not distance, but weight. // // They’ll sta

ht badly short // // I’ll just have to

ask ‘Where d’you pee?’ // //

This may be the end

we counter-attack? // // Perhaps if we

asked him politely // // he’d remorsefully put them all back. // //

One of our cushions

rs beneath the ash were darkly glowing,

asking only // // a slight encouragement. As the day went on, // //

e life is there. // // Each new doctor

asks the same once more, // // voices from the curtained bed next doo

Wake // // Fast

asleep // // dark night // // dream deep // // faint light // // b

to flick your marble // // across the

asphalt . // // If you hit your friend’s marble // // it’s yours to k

e games // // in the vast (as it felt)

asphalt playground // // just across the road // // from the Victori

// An invasion of my privacy. // // An

assault on my dignity. // // An abrogation of my autonomy. // // Obj

Capricorn suite

onnotations. // // Roget charted their

associations . // // Zipf was counting their instantiations, // // ra

want // // to kill me. // // Like the

asteroid // // barrelling onwards, to wipe us out in // // ten or a

Capricorn suite

erry-and-apple pie // // —the ones you

ate straight off the bush are saved forever). // // At the end of sum

. // // December sounds // // Even I,

atheist , find some of them sublime— // // Britten’s Ceremony or the o

l banality which stings. // // Even I,

atheist , find some of them sublime, // // Britten’s Ceremony or the o

e rest, the aural grime, // // even I,

atheist , find some of them sublime. // // Must just ignore the shop-c

tected in pouches around their necks or

attached to their belts. // //

Ode to the yeast wind

are missing. // // How can we counter-

attack ? // // Perhaps if we asked him politely // // he’d remorseful

One of our cushions

ready // // to defend against the next

attack . // // Towards the river is a group of firs // // —the kind y

that mirror there— // // Who can that

attactive girl be? // // I have heard the mermaids singing, each to e

All done with mirrors

// // Walking down quickly, not paying

attention , I // // stumble, fall heavily forward and land with my //

s any chance // // I could attract the

attention of anyone. // // Haven’t passed walkers for more than three

r Ogden Nash, and carry on without much

attention to metre, until I can mark its end with such a strong and ob

yed, // // each model posed in languid

attitude , // // in birthday suit and little else arrayed? // // I th

For Robert Graves

ing. The twain // // with anglo-saxon

attitudes // // then to Caerphilly came. // // They lingered long in

ether there’s any chance // // I could

attract the attention of anyone. // // Haven’t passed walkers for mor

Aubade // // Consult me in the morning if you will // // it matters

nd obvious rhyme // // that even if my

audience hear it spoken aloud rather than seeing it on the page they w

// // Will it find I’ve a yen to make

audiences laugh, // // so my name should be written in lights? // //

The truth about x

/ // If I can filter out the rest, the

aural grime, // // even I, atheist, find some of them sublime. // //

e path // // in any season. // // The

author , he whose life the fates would squander— // // such richness i

water boils the kettle will switch off

automatically . The kettle can be switched off manually by putting the

Using your Kettle

my dignity. // // An abrogation of my

autonomy . // // Objective // // In my groin and in my mind’s eye: //

Capricorn suite

edging // // towards the brown. // //

Autumn fruit is growing fat, // // trees bending, boughs reaching //

w-bright, or black and white, // // or

autumn hues, or shades of grey— // // the colours that I saw last nig

The dream I dreamt

the first mists // // or wild winds of

autumn , on the wild Suffolk heath, // // the wild Suffolk blackberrie

Wind, fall // // West wind // //

Autumn wind is bowling on, // // trees bending, dark green leaves sho

g torrent, // // get rolled over by an

avalanche , // // fall through a wormhole, or cross a mountain range?

Capricorn suite

as I shipwrecked? Or cast overboard to

avert shipwreck? // // I cannot now recall. // // Generations and ge

ially: // // no pips, no stone. // //

Avocado : // // pole-to-pole // // all around the stone // // twist

// other morphologic variations, // //

awaiting Dr Johnson’s ministrations, // // waiting to discover their

ndow with the wind. // // Whipped wide

awake by what the thunder said, // // flashes silhouette the trees ag

at the thunder said // // Whipped wide

awake by what the thunder said // // flashes silhouette the trees aga

ging as I lie abed, // // whipped wide

awake by what the thunder said. // // Rain rattles on the rooftiles o

has in store. // // Whether I’m lying

awake or sleeping // // or floating half in half out, I’m sure // //

cosy Apple // // app, coy sale. // //

Aye , cops lap // // a clay pope’s // // soapy place. // // So apply