Hotel Rooms (Cheap)
after TSE
In Finsbury, by the hour
on The Park, if to deflower
a reluctant virgin, secret
one heavy afternoon.
I felt
your skin tingle, your eyes glitter
deep within mine, being fitter
overcome by longing, so young
again suddenly, the bed sprung.
*
I then felt going out to sea,
returning to infinity
in such exhilirating air,
for a Churchyard drying to bare.
There would be another meeting,
to her bright, but away turning.
July 27th/ August 6th
WKT Dev. Disaster
The grandeur of God, in Shirley
an event Allah does nor know
and Camden Council rows kow-tow.
We all love a sacred Cow,
munching hard, fairly and squarely.
She lives with Jacobs Sheep
terrified of the tractor bleep.
The Rock
If General Franco had trod
the way of Mussolini, we would
have lost Gibraltar, and the war.
So sad, The Fall of Singapore.
Passage to Malta, India
July 27th/August 6th
Leading Questions
Have we lost our country ? Will there
be Mutiny On The Bounty ?
How do you pay for the empty
lazing away as enemy ?
reducing to the soup kitchen
and crying at what might have been.
Over, all The Fun Of The Fair
with millions eating despair.
The Roundabout giddy went wrong
with all that is left, protest song.
July 28th/August 7th
Senex Lament (after Horace)
A million dollars, on the sly
but try, she is too young to buy
as, vivid, a twenty-something
with your new years, nearing nothing.
She would be hard to satisfy,
expecting duration, to cry
the ecstasy of completion
together, in isolation.
August 2nd
Not Fascism At All
The inner core, for war, vital
in the total emergency
cannot be degraded by jaunt
invaders, here ready to taunt
the patriotic, jollity
in The Albert Hall, The Abbey.
Immigrant pollution must be
cut to minus zero, London
saved from The Khanate, the deadly
to blue the ceremonial
and worship Sir Christopher Wren,
the Albion fighting spirit.
Tony Blair to be on trial
for luxing the minority.
August 3rd
Control Risks
they met at a Funeral
Who on earth do you think you are ?
MI 9 stands far above you.
Your client : arrest for treason
and someone else, beyond reason.
Camden is crawling with vermin.
Which land is ruled by the insane ?
with laws verging to the inane.
You like monitoring a bin.
What was the original sin ?
August 9th a sequential interpol.
What If, Lord Halifax
Had Germany won, in Russia
it would have been a nuclear-
armed, Cruise missile power
able to blackmail London,
with just a Lancaster squadron.
We would have stared at the cauldron.
After The Service
What is Sunday afternoon about ?
A much-troubled Elgar, in doubt.
Sunday Evensong
Sicily, with Liz in her room
and everything one can assume.
August 3rd
Camden Lament
in part redactable
It is August 4th : all the suave
young women are out on a beach,
glistening, oily, out of reach ;
I, trapped here, like a condemned knave
who knew fortune favours the brave.
To win, learn from the lesbian :
elle craves a smooching of the skin
and he will not get a hard-on
despite dollars by the billion.
Once you have come, it is over ;
then, what is it that would hold her.
On screen, buy her a vibrator.
Beauty beyond the possible
is, on a yacht, intangible.
Editor's Impromptu Note
Too often have seen the word 'crave'.
Could poet buy an edit tool ?
to stop him sounding like a fool.
To bathe she must learn to behave.
Or, to wander, to sashay all day
in a bikini, come what may.
Obsessions, for my out-tray.
Nothing in all your spray to save !
Facts Of Life (after Catullus)
To end, basic sex is brutal.
Prostitution, bed marital
with much money for the bridal.
Marriage can be a trial,
her desire unsatisfied
until the summa day she died.
Most of the time, he never tried.
After he had finished, she cried.
You, elle said, I cannot abide.
Why, the petting so casual ?
August 4th/12th
Written At St. Pauls
The greatest, Sir Christopher Wren
a very great Roman, maker
of expanding space from a zen.
Eliot praised Magnus Martyr;
Wren strove for a Basilica.
Stepping out of a Church, marvel
at God from room Medieval,
infinite space from a hovel.
The vast Great Fire of London
created room for the Roman.
Or, for Byzantine Communion.
With no computer, the craftsmen...
July 30th/August 12th
The next works from new widepage scrawl pad :
August 5th 2025
Morning light, to bleaker shadow
and bright early blue, faint, fallow.
I, almost, got up in the dark
worrying on a meteor
and the survival of the shark.
Later, heard the Confiteor
not The Alberta Dinosaur
and a pre-history grinder roar.
Clinging On after Montale
Walking to St Jude, Central Square
in Hampstead Garden Suburb, you
query the name, not the avenue
Mansion built more than suburban
and wonder a life of grandeur.
What if, young, she went mad ? Or, where
is she now ? The Cafe' au Lait
with her, on the terrace, daily
to misleading repetition,
and she wanted adulation.
So achingly grand, so empty
above diurnal disaster.
View the perpetual sublime
every afternoon, in time.
Nota Bene
After Dora Markus. St Jude-
on-the-Hill, in fact, if you will.
Not lewd : with herself, ran a feud.
She had no plans to take a pill,
in danger of becoming landfill.
Flash Sussex Memory
St Jude-on-the Hill, Liz, Hillgrove
riding from the Elizabethan,
summer cider, a treasure trove ;
she looked lovely, sporting a tan.
I rode, wearing trouser velvet,
and another girl, I ferret.
We had little notion of how
it would all end, life then callow.
Golden summer stretched forever,
with every jam picnic, pleasure.
August 5th did we all wear velvet, once ?
Pasternakian Note For Editor
who has to be called Mr Angry
" We never had a worrying
about the breeding, of our set.
More, on the best bran for feeding
a Horse, and who won a Rosette
at the last sunny Gymkhana.
Crikey ! How did terse Celia,
known to never fall in the furze
get into such a pair of jodhpurs ?
She was nearly indecent ! Though, yet
a bad egg would never be met."
August 13th cf The Last Summer (Boris
Pasternak 1934) + LK channelling
Transfiguration (Sonnet)
His clothing became brilliant white.
This is my son, my only one.
Staggering new architecture
and the decrepit, the future.
In The Atrium : a weeping ;
in The Counting House, accounting.
Above clean goal posts, level white
aglow, to the west of Hub One.
What of the raw mongrel nation,
the scared waiting at a station ?
Can Judgement be liberation
as a glittering fixation ?
The Apostles, tall in the line
gone. Everything will be fine.
August 6th
The Gangsters (De Facto)
Why is it that Jeremy Corbo,
Starmer stand behind The Negro ?
Both summon to adore the vapid,
intellectually insipid.
We float in an exact language
to erect the tidal barrage.
Why the limo in the garage ?
Of the brownshirts, to the blackshirts.
Youthful women dare not wear skirts.
August 7th
After Marina
Anywhere out of the world, but
death in the morning, a peruse
early on, in your craving for her
and too easy, misbehaving
if the night company not right.
Consider : you track a seagull
considering beauty, sunlight
on the breast of a gull, her shirt.
A commanding beauty, a hell
at the door, is rare perplexing
and more than just a tan flexing
on the island of Caliban, shell
bearing vigour and exercise.
Is it girl on girl, with a whirl ?
Or the Mona Lisa, teaser
in war. Or, on a southern Down.
August 8th
Cosmic Puzzle after Herbert
The de natura ordering
of leaves to balance, harmony
indicate a divinity !
Wherefrom, the original musing ?
The matter of divine matter
can make you as mad as a hatter.
I favour the Arboretum.
What of, searching, the divine hum ?
By The Grace Of for HG
Can there be new years, in old years ?
and sauntering in a white light,
her pen in your bare manuscript
and, no longer, plentiful tears.
From Piazza, to avenue
box hedging into the parterre
statuary ending all fears,
her signing, keying held the clue.
August 8th/16th cf Ash Wenesday (parts)
Ghost Of The Sea
She had a world in parallel
to the God-bare diurnal.
What shores, what seas, in the window,
and her beckoning to follow ?
August 16th 3.15 pm sequential
The Ruin (2)
Dead : a land with a traitor King
and a traitor Prime Minister
can have only one redeeming.
From the furor poeticus :
it all began in Westminster
and The Archbishop roared, bogus.
Pathways (Sonnet)
Is Christianity about
fighting off malign spirits, dead
or alive, to enter white light ?
There may be a tunnel to tread,
if accounts by the half-dead
signal intermittently right.
Who may one greet in the night ?
In Hades, with agony fed
the abominable soul
never, skying, to be made whole.
In the war of light intra dark
the clear spirit, a soaring lark.
Evolution, eternity
never had somewhere to just be.
August 10th cf Michael Alexander
The Leaders after Auden
Both are timid, cowardly men :
no idea of the regimen.
They corrupt the native semen.
(In rule, Thatcher the only man :
redeemed disaster Malayan.
Good at judging the avian.)
Need of a core singularity,
not weakness in diversity
and abject insularity.
The Leaders have become bleeders
and robo comfort-zone feeders.
Need Albionista seeders..
I need many more good readers
August 10th/18th
Freedom for St Pancras
For some, worse than imprisonment
with no prospect of employment,
even Bail Hostel torment.
Bankrupt, the once married lament.
Within the first week, broken.
Probably on Friday evening.
Not Statuesque
The woman so tantalising,
sleek into Belsize Village Square,
lean, will stay forever roaming
with her belle Indian amour
on their way to infinity.
Speaking would spoil amitie.
You confess : you like her silent.
All they may know, is your intent.
They, trapped forever on this page
unable to hold an image...
August 10th
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