lyrical waxing
trumpet case
eveready battery
double bass
mantelpiece maniac
what’s the score
watercolour margin
piano more
bespectacled rhinoceri
saxophone
light emitting diode
treble tone
golden photo shoot
alpine horn
coils of curly cable
bagpipes born
baskerville old face
signature tune
bedtime story
drum down dune
June 29, 2012
Bespectacled rhinoceri and other lyrical waxings
June 18, 2012
the rare summer
I came up from my own world
for the rare summer,
pleasant scented breeze
made evening perfect,
lifted my clear head and strolled
until I met nobody,
close to the longest day.
June 16, 2012
Bred for beauty
The flowers were tied to the railing. There were several bunches but they were all fading now. Someone didn’t make it. It made me pause where once a pause could have meant life.
The flowers disguised numbness and despair. Picked for innocence. Bred for beauty, delicate radiance.
I walked on. I played no part in this.
The break in the trees
There is a road – it can’t be seen from where I’m sat but I know it is there.
I can see the break in the trees.
If I work hard I can picture two millennia of travellers making their way along the path
Through the break in the trees.
In other circumstances it might have been a river but it is not, although there is a lake
Surrounded by trees.
The countryside is green now – it is the middle of June and it has been a particularly wet spring.
The trees too are green,
Enjoying their short burst of growth before the colours change and fade
And the trees grow stoic.
But for now they are in full leaf and the cars race by on their way somewhere else and oblivious to the fact
That the trees are there, always.
They line the horizon, wet, wind-brushed and painted and make me pause and think because of
The break in the trees.
May 12, 2012
The manflu epidemic
They fell where they sat
settee, armchair or bed
the sickness took them
aspirin soon exhausted
bottles of Lucozade
scattered empty and liberally
on the floor around them
face cloth doused in water
but long run dry
falls off the forehead
and is not replaced
the victims fall in
and out of sleep
left alone for long
periods of up to
fifteen minutes
whilst their partners
selfishly get on
with the housework
April 29, 2012
The cafe at Infosec2012, Earls Court, Tuesday 24th April
Two young salesmen smart in shiny suits
Take a short break, expense account cafe,
Corporate linguists, expert jargonistas
Sit now in silence, pondering their day.
April 22, 2012
a concise history of trefor davies in twenty thousand tweets (of one hundred and forty characters or less)
Crossed, a random line in the twitter sand,
twenty thousand statements lost in a flow,
downstream the cybersea, stormiest of places,
tossed, examined, ignored, replied or retweeted,
unseen by most and mostly rubbish
peppered with an occasional gem, perhaps
a reflection of life and personality
insignificant, except to myself.
The modern day Eleanor Rigby
Wild ambition-fuelled follows,
follow back at your peril,
modern day Eleanor Rigby
waits for something to happen,
a craving in space and time
where are all the people?
do they have other lives?
did I miss something?
twitter is forever.
April 21, 2012
The leaves are back
The leaves are back, it’s been a while,
tender green delicates
emerge blinking in the newly sprung sun.
The rain keeps them fresh, droplets roll,
soak the bedraggled soul
finding shelter under the canopy.
Drink deep, smell that forgotten smell,
wet neck warm face smiling
in harmony with a birdborn chorale.
April 11, 2012
The early morning run
The bleary eyed stagger
Fumble for the light
Kettle on autopilot
Oh no – out of tea bags
Scramble around in corner cupboard
Ahah – find new pack
Pour milk into large plastic measuring jug – only one available
Two mugs – my favourite and hers
Rinse out teapot
3 bags
Click whoosh
Tea cosy on and tray upstairs
Back to bed.
The early morning run to the kitchen
Pelagos Venture and the Dream Catcher of Menai
Names to fire the lively mind
Idyllic seaborn high adventure
Drift:
gently, rod cast, fish flout,
lights dance the flutterless bay,
distant music – timeless Mediterranean romance,
Water laps across the Southern sky
Sails plough, spinnaker helmsmen battle
wind blown grip’d rigging gaze into the dramatic posed distance,
below, mugs of crew steaming liquid,
racing cumuli cut through white tops.
reality, tucked away in port,
outside the sea clings to winter,
discarded untidy mess of ropes, buoys and fishing nets,
castle abandoned to unseasonal tourists,
rusting orange topped ladder leads down to dribbled river,
cold run eyes freezing water,
stormed seaweed litters overnight road.
April 9, 2012
April 7, 2012
The Travelodge Manager
Sits outside on the step,
fag in hand,
talking about “her staff”,
watching the clock,
32 rooms of boredom,
licensed garage,
roadside existence,
traffic thunders by,
local girl with a smoker’s face.
April 2, 2012
The 80s Disco
Tired bodies,
ravaged by 20 years of kids and progress,
time thickened legs, bloated rear end,
handbags danced still around
sucked in stomachs
no longer cool an option,
later, cocoa, an appropriate end,
background hiss filled ears, sleep.