Feathers everywhere.  The poetry chicken laying a final egg and me (who hates to fly) trying to prepare myself for Vata aggravation and no sleep.  

Cheered immensely though when I review the last two months.  Over a period of 63 days I have received (thirstily) 126 Ayurvedic treatments involving oil, herbs, rice and more oil.  So good.  Plus I have sat down to 188  incredible, super edible Indian meals (skipped breakfast on day one for all you math wizards out there).

I will just have to sit in economy (snugged up) and preen.

If you are not a fan of poetry it is fine to stop reading here.  If you are my yoga client and/or otherwise my friend I will still love and take care of you.  If you think you like poetry or you might like mine or you know you do (like poetry) then please keep reading.

I have prepared a mezze consisting of six poems all written whilst here on retreat.  I just did a headcount and overall I have 63 new poems written in as many days.  It has been a crazy and fun experience.

See everybody in the UK and much blessings.

(NB: Spacing between lines a little wide as that is what Silvrback, my editor, seems determined to do.)

 

Before the Judge

 

Hello mama

hello papa

this poet is going to get you

in a whole lot of trouble

tomorrow

our family goes on trial.

 

That means everyone taking the stand

swearing an individual oath

the big shakedown of sleeves

this is the fair square leveller

hold onto your hat 

or eat it.

 

Proceedings will start from the ground up

your son and my brother, Buttercup

I won't believe a word of his account

and he won't believe mine either

a good man anyway

loves his dog and is charitable.

 

Then my sister and your daughter

mild-mannered because of what life has brought her

she’ll offer her own rendition

based loosely on the original edition

mad as bejesus at me though

I used to clunk her on the head.

 

Finally the courtroom wet with excitement

here comes the main act

the burlesque enticement

your eldest daughter

the one with words

has something serious to say.

 

I had a mother

the courtroom goes quiet

who was a ferocious

everybody waits for it – tiger?

non-believer in much (I can moderate now)

that was spiritual and good.

 

Your honour

my father bows his head sadly

we didn’t do right by her

received gladly

and my mother

she says Jean was impossible.

 

 

Cat and Mouse

 

Nibble really, not more

said the cat to the mouse

as she opened the door

O my said the mouse

he saw crumbs galore

the mouse went in.

 

The mouse took one crumb

the mouse took four

the cat didn't pounce

they both looked at the door

I better be going the mouse said

their hungry mouths, my children.

 

The cat said nothing

they both knew the score

the cat could move faster

than the mouse to the door

the mouse together with the cat

waited patiently.

 

Time past and the mouse

rolled one precious crumb toward the cat

the cat rolled the same precious

crumb slowly back

the cat didn't want to eat the mouse

just play with his lifeless body.

 

Then the mouse coughed

let drop all four morsels

fell down dead

on the floor

heart attack thought the cat

she edged closer.

 

The mouse saw

in his mind's eye

the cat's whiskers and fur

he saw his family

and the mouse saw

the door.

 

The mouse did a mouse dart

nothing more

the mouse made it

the cat was alone

the cat licked one paw

and then the other.

 

The cat put her cat crumbs

back in pyramid formation

gingerly testing their weight

the cat struck that mouse off

called it a day

the cat’s whiskers were twitching.

 

 

Elf Queen, roaming

 

It is dark in the woods

precious little in the forest

expecting special treatment

because you are from Canada

and can make words sing

is funny

no joke.

 

You may be the elf queen

fairy bodice, atop your crown

knees worn to a nobbly nub

beyond roaming

but this is Barbados

do not be fooled by the sun

there is old magic here.

 

Slavery on this island is hidden and not gone

the mythic shuffle of shoe leather

everyone in town

their discourteous courtesy

women lean back

men sit down

through the spokes of your bicycle bug-eyed children.

 

So get out your majesty

ditch your transport and run

you are allowed wet and green England

then a new day in Barbados and a bejewelled sea comes

a banner of sunlight

words yet to be strung

what is it you have got to lose.

 

You could stay here you if you were able to stop seeing.

 

 

Wise Words

 

She was mine

we had a picnic

spring will come again

a woman with it

rock yourself to sleep now

it’s a whole life thing.

 

 

My Brother's Keeper

 

In the 80s country

where his young heart lives on

the smell of dinner

television strong

my mother in her criminal element

is kind to him alone.

 

What not to love

never to be replaced

everything to remember

in the cold light of day

even the yellow light he switches now in the hall

is sickly compared to what he can recall.

 

An impossible colour

storybook true

unsinkable and strong

not seen by me and you

he knows it was 

her true yellow.

 

 

Toxic Material

 

Itch scritch scratch

it takes both my hands

to reach my back

scritch scratch itch

if I were an animal

I would roll in a ditch.

 

Here in India

I ask Doctor and God

could this be mosquitos biting

but I was not

the medicine can sometimes happen

except before it didn’t.

 

So the slow rise of toxins

as they leave my jutting bones

my crazy beliefs

from a former home

this is the answer I’ve given myself

I don’t want to celebrate them.

 

My toxins can get to know me

some other time

I would prefer lifelong banishment

or a hefty fine

leaving me to free float

through life’s parade.

 

 

Thanks for reading all...