Only Don’t Ask Me

The unlocatable sorrows of the heart
cannot be mapped
but may be glimpsed through art -
in colours that in striking ways combine,
in music or words that mysteriously
lilt or chime.

In no sense do these explicitly impart
significance, but make you start;
feel elevated – touch, jar
the unlocatable sorrows of the heart.

Else ask the wind, the fire, the sea -
only don’t ask me.

Memoir

History, memory,
shadowplay;
I shall not visit
the archive today.

Nor visit the trunk
in the loft,
nor the letters
behind the clock.

Ah, the clock,
the hungry clock.

Distortion, erasure,
elision;

history blurs into
fiction.

The Entertainment

The party was a washout,
the entertainment didn’t show.
The food was truly awful
and the music far too slow.
I danced a quiet tango
in a room all by myself,
said goodbye to no one
and went to bed at twelve.

At three I rose in torment
with a pain inside my head.
The party wasn’t over
but had carried on instead.
It’s just that I got sidetracked,
though in truth I’d had my fill.
I was the entertainment
just wasn’t quite as billed.