Thursday, 29 June 2017

New Port

When they had completed the new port
they realised they had forgotten
to fill the sea with water
so no ships came
and no gulls shrieked
or followed fishing boats

Tuesday, 27 June 2017


A poet criticised another poet
on Facebook

a witty but unpleasant remark

unworthy of the poet
who made the remark
a pointless nastiness

taste is in the tongue of the taster
there's no accounting for it

Sunday, 25 June 2017

You have to run

you have to run
and beware of the enemy
their snipers
the depth of the state
the hospital in the distance
a wreck of concrete holes

the ruins yellow and crumbled
are flanked by beautiful green-red trees
and the surreal turquoise of the placid lake.

Saturday, 24 June 2017

Is it Cancer?

Is it cancer
these blobs on my thigh
blotchy and there
where they didn't used to be?

Before I saw them
I never thought the word

When I noticed them,
but before I thought of that word cancer
I never thought,

Now I have thought
And a little uncertainty
spreads not on my legs
but up here
where the I I imagine is me

Not a lot of uncertainty granted
no fear
not yet,
but just a tad less certain
that I had been
before the thought
of that word

Tuesday, 20 June 2017


The grasses bend gently the wind

the ripples flow softly the bowl

the lawn sits proudly needing cut

the branches lie beckoning the blackbird

Light fills in the space between the shadows

A cat crosses the road a young boy chased behind

Reflections bounce metallically off the car and lamp post

A car hushes by stopped by silence

Saturday, 17 June 2017


We are driven to do few things.
Have kids, preserve the lineage.
Survive, in order to have kids.

So as far as nature's concerned
Once you've had enough children
you're not needed as a man

And for a woman, once you're past child-bearing
You're on the scrap heap of the genes.

We do of course all die
in the end.

Survival is a relative matter.
Those stillborn in the womb
in retrospect
are not so very different as those who live to a hundred.

They lived.
They died.

Grief is another matter altogether.

The impulse
to survive
to have sex

Both quite petty in the grand scheme of things
aren't they?

Appreciate your life
Love a moment
and then another.
Simple really.
Really simple.

Heading Home

Here at Warsaw Airport the people are tired.
It's not yet 8am and they've been up for hours.

My family, dotted around the world.

To sit with them in Carrigan's,
do the autumn things in Scottish rain
- me, away on work, on my own.

Let the plane take me back
land at homely Glasgow
where the streets know me and my footsteps
and will guide me to my train home.

Nature has a calligraphy of its own

Thursday, 15 June 2017


The water flows into my body
becomes my guest
I, its host

Becomes a part of me
the ever-changing entity I call I
but which, like the water
is a flow, never still
always moving towards the next moment

all is fleeting
while seeming stable and strong


I am existence
the alternative is non-existence
but the I is not what it seems

A pulsation of thoughts, reactions, impulses, thirsts, and revulsions

I am the debris caused by the storm
I am also the storm.
The debris continues for some time
after the storm has ceased

The eye of the storm becomes I

A non-existent idea of I
that, nonetheless, is aware of existence

Wednesday, 14 June 2017

No thinker behind the thought

There is no thinker behind the thought

only flow
conditioned cause and effect

See existence in this way
become the happiest of beings

no fears or anxiety
always calm and serene

never upset or dismayed by calamities
or drastic changes of circumstance

because we see things as they are

Never melancholy or gloomy
we produce an atmosphere of calm
and serene joy

What is needed

What is necessary is not anger
ill-will to anyone

even to the suffering of others

What is needed is understanding the question
of suffering
how it comes about
how to get rid of it
and then to work on it with

Tuesday, 13 June 2017

The art and the artist

We are the canvas
on which art is created
Shaped by life's events

We can be artists
who create a lifelong art
that is our own life

There is no artist
there can be therefore no art
only fleeting flux

Yet we are artists
and the canvas to be filled
one thing, joined, not two

Good Enough

I don't believe it is possible
to be completely at peace
if you decide to be active in politics
or in experimental creative life

but you can still achieve
a high level of love of life
and deep contentment

and that's good enough
for a life