migrant, writer, work in progress
Peaceful as the dawn
of spring above Lake Como
one silent morning
*
the windows open
while the still soft air wove fresh
sweet scented coolness
*
on our skin we felt
our gentle touch our hands our
lips our mouths musing
*
peaceful as fresh dawn
of spring close by Lake Como
that silent morning
*
wrapped in our lovers’
waking warmth—help us remember,
daughters of memory!
*
**
*
We celebrated last year’s Feast of the Ascension with a single, potently philosophical haiku based on a Meditation of Philippe de Saint Maurice (Ascension). Focusing on a pebble at the bottom of a pond, it got a lot of comments about the nature of consciousness, the will to rise up from the mundane mud, and suchlike.
It was a rather uplifting item all round.
For this year’s Feast, we have another of Philippe’s mighty meditations, but this one comes at the idea of Ascension from an altogether more provocative angle, wondering whether Yeshua’s ascension wasn’t perhaps the result of his wishing to escape the judgmental coldness of us killjoy humans – a sobering thought, entirely apt on this day of feasting and celebration.
Becoming sweaty,
They feared their bodies’ passions
Would take them over
*
Sometimes forever
They fought their desires to death –
Thought to transcend them
*
Morals to judge them,
Judgment to condemn and kill,
Death to embrace them:
*
They feared their own love
And so blamed others, made up
Sins deserving death –
*
Is that why Yeshua
Rose up to heaven – to escape
Our killjoy death-wish?
*
Tired of being judged,
He left us to our cold, mad,
Delusional lives.
*
**
*
Omm
Feast of the Ascension, 13 May 2021
Mistletoe clusters
On tall bare wintry poplars,
Pale, poisoned berries
*
Sowing witches’ brooms
With Saturnalian seed
To spread love’s shrouding
*
Solstice potency:
Nurturing nest, fast food for birds,
Spring’s bees, butterflies
*
But all’s veiled, still, now—
This short midwinter moment
Death’s reared in beauty
*
Breeds life in sticky
Clinging, skeletal branches,
Mistletoe clusters.
*
**
*
In Chelsea Old Church
(December Evensong: 12 Haiku)
*
**
*
In Chelsea Old Church
At Evensong on Sunday
I hope, pray, repent
*
For the coming year’s
Dates – work, duties, dreams – love’s loose
Change of comings, goings:
*
I’m not quite sure who
My confusion of spirits
Would be praying to
*
Jesus seems quite far
Our Father even farther,
Holy Ghost most lost
*
In faith that is ours
To find by quaint disbelief’s
Dark dusty corners
*
Darknesses of this
Church’s memorialised pasts
–
Framing spaces where
–
A handful of us
Sit, stand, kneel, sing and mumble
–
In twilit hangovers
–
There’s darkness that turns
As the world turns its seasons round
To joy and gladness
*
In the shadows, clouds,
Disintegration delights
Dismantling sadness
*
In meadows, poppies,
Gardens by the Thames that bloom
Long centuries long
*
Before Thomas More
Prayed, sang here with Erasmus
Wisteria grew
*
On the Embankment –
Once a low shore – cars now crawl
Past flowers, me and you.
*
**
*
Omm
Note: This poem describes a time when I lived down the road from Chelsea Old Church, along Cheyne Walk, where what is now a busy road on the Embankment (the A3212) was a sleepy village shore in Sir Thomas More and Erasmus’ time. More worshipped (and was upbraided for singing) in the church and added a chapel to the south or river-side of the building which, unlike the rest of the church, survived World War II bombing. The church was rebuilt in the 1940s, retaining many of its original features and fixtures – it’s a powerfully atmospheric place.
I used to join Evensong regularly to contemplate the week ahead.
This year, most services have been cancelled – I hope they will soon be able to reconvene, and these twelve haiku (one for each Christmas Day) are humbly dedicated to that outcome.
The painting is by Henry Pether (1800-1865). His father and brother were also painters, known as the “Moonshine Pethers” for their addiction to the hooch and liquors they illicitly brewed in seedy stills on the banks of the river moonlit scenes.
Another of my poems with links to this part of London, Ghosts of Cheyne Walk, was published here last year.
My upcoming book, Migrant Shadows – Sicilian Haiku, will be published by Mad Bear Books in early 2021 – with all profits going to support refugees.