POSSIBILITIES

There's a tiny shaft of light
You can hardly call it that
Peeking in my room
Yet lying still and flat

Contained within this light
In this miniature sun-ray
Are endless possibilities
For the greatest day.

CHAMPION

In heady, heady, days of yore
of Champion The Wonder Horse
I'd run to school and run right back
gallop cross my fields & track
the swiftest arrows,now quite slow
have lost their whizz, lost their bow
the only streak of flashing light
is me at midnight's prostate flight!

MORNING HAIKU - Fun For Old Rope

Where the child goes home
When they have long skipped the day
Fun waits patiently

SQUATTERS WRITE

I live with Anxiety and Depression.

They squat with me.

They know their rights.

Anxiety has a thousand ideas for home improvement.

              all at once 

        at the same time 

simultaneously     

              together

   concurrently

Not concurrently.

That's not at the same time. 

Or is it?

Damn.

Start again. 

                 from the start

    of course from the start

       where else can you start

     if you didn't 

                start at the start

     it wouldn't be called 

the start

Start again

It's not Anxiety's house. 

It squats with me.

It knows its rights

Depression hates every single one of these ideas

They're not outstanding 

They're not superb 

They're not terrific 

They're not unsurpassed 

They're not transcending 

They're not matchless

They're as fucking stupid as you are

Which is ordinarily stupid

No

Just ordinary

Now that’s depressing

It's not Depression’s house.

It squats with me it knows its rights.

Black mold on the walls

Black holes on the soul

That’s better. 

I should let Anxiety know that one

Though he’d only worry about black holes

Sucking out all the light 

Spewing forth darkness

Chewing up universes

One atom at a time

And what a time to be alive

If time had any meaning 

We hang watches from our wrists 

We hang clocks on the wall

We hang our heads in shame

We’re time lords

And ladies and gentlemen

Welcome to the beginning of time

Which probably started with a black hole

Having crushed another universe into oblivion

Vomits it forth into ours

Screaming and crying

A reincarnated newborn

With no one to slap its arse and tell it to breathe

But it does

The immaculate conception

Born of a crushed universe

And?

And probably God

Why not?

It’s as safe a place to start as any

And there is nowhere to start

At the beginning of time

Or nowhen 

Now then

Anxiety and Depression

They know their rights

They squat in me

Astride my hopes and with my fears

But I’ve grown attached to them 

They told me to say that

Stockholm Syndromes

The pair of them

They know their rights

And I know i’m right

And I know they know their rights

And they know I know I’m right

It’s all very cosy inside my brain

Or whatever part of me makes me 

Me

I think it’s my brain

But many years ago

At one time or another

It was my dick

My liver

My sweet left foot

And my blue blue eyes

Both of them you see

I needed both to see

I needed all of that to be me

Squatters rights

Squatters write on the walls

And on the toilet doors

And on the threadbare floors

And when they’ve written 

On every blank space 

They ruminate in rooms

And hate and wait

And often late

Though mark the date

And mark my words

There’s blank space yet 

Between the words

Because there’s the place

The blank space

We’ve yet to use

A whole universe awaits

Between the walls

Inside the cracks

Or maybe just maybe

That’s where the Black Holes live

Waiting to suck out the life and light

From those that dare

To fall between the words and the cracks

Now that they start to appear in my thinking

I wish i was still drinking

I’d remember it in the morning through groans

And moans and recriminations

A rainbow elation

When a rediscovered memory 

Becomes the pot of gold

It never gets old

Because time as I’ve said

Only exists because of the watches

And clocks 

And timetables

Which is where time is eaten

And washing up is done after a timely meal 

Or a tiny meal

And a Happy Meal comes with a toy

If you throw away the toy 

You can play with the packaging

And it’s damaging to

The environment

Which is wasteful 

Who needs the N in environment

What a waste

Ian Dury 

Goodnight.

Stephen Kerr 25.03.19

MORNING HAIKU

The first light appears,
Reveals all the blue colours
Before deciding

WINTERFOOD

Let leaves fall in confettis of autumn
as we marry the sights
of a land bronzed by fields
of harvested crops
under retreating sun
along juice-stained lanes
to giggles of children
and crumbling pie
in the blink of an eye
our golden memories
are safely gathered in

WINS A LOT

A full moon
A plaintive sky
A restless dog

The laziest hobo
wanders room to room
in fitful rounds of sleep

His new food
this silent protest

It won't change the world
but I'll change it back

I tell him
He snores

He dreams of victory
and his next campaign.

NO RETURNS?

Time

Bottle it if you can

Place it on a shelf

Call them memories

Take down when required.

FACE

The cliff fakes indelible marks
we are but fragments of the edifice
within snaps of generations trapped in cracks
cut through by tide and time
we know our sell by date
we live with crumbling permanence
yet somehow beauty endures
and we smile at, or for, the ages.

LEFT UNSAID

Behind the bins
And washing up
Smells from rooms
And broken cups

To time we've missed
Giving lifts
To kids with lives
In different shifts

To baggy clothes
We wear with shame
To PPI
We've tried to claim

To beaches lost
Cos we've been sick
From childhood illness
We thought kicked

To walking dogs
In pouring rain
To split poo bags
And mud parades

I love you

I don't say that much
But a hard, hard world
Needs your soft touch

(Stephen and Andrea Kerr. Still together since '97)