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

V

Vagrant monosyllables // // Let he who is without zen… but there is a

Vagrant monosyllables

ng, if not a line, // // at least some

vague direction. // // Once in a while, though, they seem // // to s

a line of those same firs // // looks

vaguely oriental. // // Since then, of course, the bracken // // has

cloud // // take train // // whether

vain // // same old // // shave again // // it’s insane // // i’m

/ to inform or confuse, // // elate or

validate or grieve— // // these words live. // //

; // // descend the steps to reach the

valley floor— // // to leave behind, for now, the wilder moor. // //

Daydream Dale Journey

er ground. // // Voices far across the

valley sound. // // The hills ranged all around // // —they little c

ushup Edge // // Voices far across the

valley sound // // through still, warm air, // // clear to my vantag

ttle care. // // Voices far across the

valley sound // // through still, warm air. // // On the top deck of

As we climbed // // out of the rainy

valley , we climbed // // into cloud. We walk // // in a bubble, a d

// Climb by the obvious route from the

valley , with // // Derwent behind me and scrambles ahead of me. // /

ering, under the sky. // // Mountains,

valleys , moors and dales, meadows, // // hills, ravines descending, u

nozzle and tap. // // Above, a tube, a

valve , a smaller tube. // // Subjective // // An invasion of my priv

Capricorn suite

wonderfully // // ornate. A pump and

valves from a washing machine. // // An electric fan. The dial of a

// In Friday Market square // // Jacob

van Artevelde makes an expansive gesture // // towards the setting su

A poem for free

the train moves on, // // the guard’s

van trundles at the back. // // The bogeys go: click-clack click-cla

an’t find. // // How could it suddenly

vanish ? // // It hasn’t just fallen behind. // // Two of our cushion

One of our cushions

hat a train // // will emerge from the

vanishing point. // //

there.” // // Sadiq says “The Boris’s

vanity project has // // gone off the rails. I’m not such a mug. //

Troubled waters

ugh still, warm air, // // clear to my

vantage point on higher ground. // // Voices far across the valley so

/ // string, cord, matchstick, tallow,

vardo // // cromarty, ringwold or savage ground // // smoked trout,

al stress // // expresses change. Some

variant has found // // how good sex is—to mix the genes around. //

, conjugation, // // other morphologic

variations , // // awaiting Dr Johnson’s ministrations, // // waiting

ld play competitive games // // in the

vast (as it felt) asphalt playground // // just across the road // /

ick-clack. // // On holiday by train!

Vast hall // // of city station, noisy, full // // of people rushing

een feeding grounds // // in lop-sided

vees and slanting lines, // // dark against the sky. // // Ahead, an

// Milk // // Sausages or chops // //

Veg —broccoli? // // Some fruit // // Present for C—book? // // Coat

Notes to a life

/ // is the Tomato a // // fruit or a

vegetable ?— // // test for it thus: // // bite it—the seeds on your

ent-cocoon, both future and past // //

veiled , invisible, lost in the mist. // // Forty-some years ago, when

ped to my thigh // // with elastic and

velcro . // // Below, a nozzle and tap. // // Above, a tube, a valve,

Capricorn suite

is to rot away? // // Imagine what the

vengeful gods would say. // //

On offerings to the gods

use // // that is my mother’s next big

venture after // // producing six of us. // // L-shaped the house; e

hose dense interior // // we sometimes

venture . // // Beyond the fir-trees lies // // a bracken-covered hea

ed earth // // Where tender shoots may

venture forth // // On weed-o’er-run Shalott? // // She who hath thi

The Lady’s Maid

ill each line from side to side, // //

verbosely quite enough to float or sink a battle-ship. // // But perh

// // Or maybe I should write it in a

verse . // // But now the dawn has come, it does not pass, // // this

nough for any line. // // With a terse

verse form, you see, // // I can get along just fine. // // But seve

// // Back the way we came. // // All

verse is born free. // //

A poem for free

the best of intent // // In rollicking

verse // // On a galloping horse— // // But Aix was as far as he wen

A poem for free

on. // // Maybe I should write it in a

verse // // with Frida as my muse and inspiration // // This figment

, // // like the bard from Japan whose

verses never would scan, adds an extra list. // // As we* reach the s

and the postal order). // // Rhythmic

verses with echoed refrain // // in the rhythmic clattering noise of

A poem for free

he Hirschhorn in Washington, close to a

version of Rodin’s Balzac, and called “Post-Balzac”. It is a full-len

Fragments of a life

vibrations // // The Bendix washing machine was already elderly // /

Good vibrations

rewed-on wood- // // and metal-working

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

ave. // // There were no victors: only

victims . // //

Black September

ntury turns. // // Right on cue, Queen

Victoria dies. // // (Next time around, in the digital era // // we

January Nineteen Hundred and One

s of south London, 1969. // // A small

Victorian terrace house // // stuccoed and flat-fronted. // // No el

// just across the road // // from the

Victorian turrets // // of the Natural History museum. // // You tak

an unmarked grave. // // There were no

victors : only victims. // //

Black September

an easier // // path with spectacular

views over Bassenthwaite. // // Walking down quickly, not paying atte

umboots. The mile or two // // to the

village shop to seek supplies // // becomes a daily ritual. // // Su

Walking in winter

fftown; Deeside; Dumfries // // roads;

villages // // One to sixty three thousand three hundred and sixty: T

kham 1969—1991 // // Of eighteen sixty

vintage , the house is flat // // in face, no sign of the deep bay win

Peckham 1969—1991

e nuts and bolts and washers // // are

visible within. // // Gathered round about, a motley crew // // of c

eed a designer with // // boldness and

vision —I know just the man. // // He has built me some buses which bo

Troubled waters

// // And in my mind it conjures up a

vision // // of the image that inspired it: a scattering // // of pe

just let me be your open door // // to

visit many poets small and great, // // examples of the form both goo

e of zens. The zens of the fathers are

visited on the sons, even if living in zen. // // Gloves are a many-s

Vagrant monosyllables

duced me to so many artists. As I have

visited other places, I have found other treasures, and regret not hav

Fragments of a life

// — // // 1973. Six-year-old Emily

visits . // // At home, two days later, // // she says to her dad //

ss // // against their boundaries. The

vital stress // // expresses change. Some variant has found // // ho

eas he makes a worthy guide; // // his

voice is lively, gestures wide. // // The sun and wind upon the trees

. // // In the lecture room // // His

voice is lively, gestures wide— // // there is much sense in what he

isten, but my musing strays. // // His

voice is lively, gestures wide. // // There is much sense in what he

gainst another softness // // and soft

voice says // // I can hear the sea. // //

about it and about, and evermore // //

voices coming from the room next door. // // For and against, and mor

ad’s cacophony. // // Dialectic // //

Voices coming from the room next door: // // thesis and antithesis, d

ate is all—a synthesis can wait. // //

Voices coming from the room next door: // // Thesis and Antithesis de

vantage point on higher ground. // //

Voices far across the valley sound. // // The hills ranged all around

dsTriolets // // On Rushup Edge // //

Voices far across the valley sound // // through still, warm air, //

around // // —they little care. // //

Voices far across the valley sound // // through still, warm air. //

doctor asks the same once more, // //

voices from the curtained bed next door. // // Responses muted, thoug

mal, machine. // // In hospital // //

Voices from the curtained bed next door: // // someone else’s fragile

ons orderly, while exuding care. // //

Voices from the curtained bed next door: // // someone else’s fragile

ime noises permeate the air // // with

voices human, animal, machine. // // An owl, a leaping fish, a fox af

ime noises permeate the air // // with

voices human, animal, machine. // // In hospital // // Voices from t

at he says. // // Small hour // // No

voices in the almost-silence that I hear, // // the soft subliminal s

d link, and split, and fight. // // No

voices in the almost-silence that I hear, // // the soft subliminal s

no human language in my ear, // // no

voices in the almost-silence that I hear. // // The words within my h

. // // On the top deck of a 68 // //

Voices , ipods, phones speak out— // // add to the road’s cacophony. /

erein lies some deep philosophy? // //

Voices , ipods, phones speak out— // // add to the road’s cacophony. /

and ether people mutter, shout, // //

voices , ipods, phones speak out. // // So many people talking: can w

// // what was left was not so much a

void // // as that which in my London childhood // // we’d call a bo

and calms, // // earthquake-waves and

volcanic dust, // // soft breezes and winter gales. // // Was I ship

vortex // // // // // Jacob’s Rock Drill pierces through the brain

Sculpting the vortex

ng wide, // // as if to start out on a

voyage , a full round-Britain trip. // // I’ll need a ton of words to

countries tell // // or take you on a

voyage through deepest space: // // fall, fall into the writer’s well

Jump willing in

of geese // // more travels, journeys,

voyages , expeditions // // more books, more coffee cups // // more t