Thursday, May 24, 2007


The following poems were first published in Incite in 2000. I thought it was about time they appeared again.

Comfort and Joy

Wearing Sunflowers
or Tendre Poison
cab it to the Strand
create a stir with
what you wear
and the wake of
essence trailing by
Into The Star watch
the crowds part at
the bar as you weave a magic spell
'half a lager and scotch
and coke please'
take the
corner table and watch
as the noise dies down
Rub your foot onto my
instep as you peek
into your shopping bags
showing me the label
of crisp white cotton knickers
The space left as you
go to powder your nose
fills with the stares of
envious men wearing tracksuits and expensive
catalogue club jewellery
Wearing the tight MozzerT-shirt to bed as the sun
begins to set the bed seems
small as the Sunflowers
turn in and the poison begins
to seep out of my body

The steely early winter
wind stirs up the litter,
as I wait outside Central
Station watching the paper
sellers packing up.
I'm off to the Everyman
and you've agreed to comewith me and still I wait, the
station concourse empty nowand still I wait.

One and a half hours later
you turn up out of breath,
stammering apologies about
looking after your brother's kids, I whisper it's fine and it is.

In the Bistro's Third Room
after the performance, people
are trying to get me to stayout drinking, but I've a last train
to catch and you offer to drive me.
After a few pints of Guinness,we're in your Mum's battered
green 'P' reg Cortina and I'm slowly shaking my head in pure
disbelief that YOU are driving ME.

A revelation in jeans shuffling
into the lecture theatre late 'Seen
her?' I whisper to my mate 'Yeah
tasty', if there is such a thing
as being able to be knocked down with a feather, that would've been the time to topple me.

Unable to sleep on Toddy's brother's sofa that night, despite
whiskey and Joy Division,the last words I uttered to you that night were 'I'll ring you
tomorrow to check you get home OK'
as the slightest swirls of snow were beginning to fall.

Wordsworth and Bukowski

'Adny, you're tooyoung to really have
suffered', she said.'He's older than he
looks, you know.'I laugh inwardly as
the discussion
turns from, Wordsworth to Bukowski.
'I mean, look
at those teeth. Too
straight and clean
for somebodywho has suffered.'

I can't get away
from the fact that Bukowski says
more to
me than Wordsworth.
'I'm not sayingthat Wordsworth
didn't write anything
good, I'm just saying that Bukowski was alive the same time as me.'
Alan says, 'But Wordsworth wrote some amazing stuff - what about The Prelude?'
Pam agrees and I drink my coffee
and think about the fact that I am
being scrutinised
about my work
and that Wordsworth
and Buk are being
mentioned in the same breath.

Head in the Clouds

Wish for my trousers
to be undone while you
stare casually across the room, fringe sitting coyly
across those eyes.

Cast yourself in the role
of dream giver, come to my way of thinking
as the summer gives way
to autumn.
Travel with me down
the Bold Street of old,
where innocence mixed
with apprehension caused
a cocktail of despair.

Meander over with intent
in your eyes, stop and breathe
with the purpose that you crave.
Draw me deep inside feel the
depth of feeling and embrace it.

No Need To Talk

The lights on the horizon
sparkle like fairy lights.
The tide is drawing nearer
as the night air turns colder.

Here they roll down
towards the tiny hotel
where strangers are
made welcome.

Gathering sticks along the shore as the gulls
swoop low. The promise
of whiskey driving us along.
Thriving on the chance
to explain myself away,
you patiently sit, legs intrademark 501s.

Full circle. Ten years on we sit no need to talk.
It's enough to watchyou through the rising coffee cup steam.

Aranyi(for JS and CG)

Spring is in the air and there's a spring in your step.
Guilt about new found happiness dissipates
as I assure you that it's what I need to hear.

Steaming pots of tea and there's a hush settling over the table.
As you embark on a journey of half-missed chances,
how about it being written in the stars?
The city centre grinds on and there's a definite glow about you, regardless
of the clouds laying heavy with rain.
Bask in the new found rays of light, taste the first flush of love and embrace it,
allow it to mask the debris that litters our lives. Find yourselves arm in arm.
Discover calm in the plans that you make, delight in the ordinary,
the cereal packet on the table the toast half-eaten at 7 a.m.
Caress all that is to come, scan the future's vista and floorboard it.

(c) Andrew Taylor 2000