sun

summerlove – with audio

I carry all these

years

of summers

in my body

heat, light, salt water

ache and split

like an overripe tomato

knees, wrists and shoulders

stained by the sun

and worn

like old pyjamas

soft, familiar

hoping it will last

the high hum

late and golden

overblown

sighs the end

of another

season

it’s already darker

now

in the mornings

but still

the ghost-warmth

in clothes just

stepped-out-of

on the floor

oh

don’t leave

too soon

please

love

another one

almost done

 

LISTEN! https://soundcloud.com/clairevetica/summer-love

 

Image: Claire Doble

nine lives

the house next door had holes in the walls

I could see sunlight shine through

on bright days

and when it rained

my sliding window

3-inches wide

behind bars

flaking and tired

open so

the cat could come and go

then, at night

through

forks of light

you called

and buildings fell

curtains of grey rain

soft, soothed

a rift in time

muffled all

except Sinead

and sudden, close

her vibration

cut through the beer and wine

standing naked

couldn’t tell

hell from beauty

warmth from fire

sickness, health

anyway

that was one

of nine lives

 

Photo by Petr Slováček on Unsplash

amber

put that in aspic

put it in amber

as the long gold

of a winter afternoon

draws on my heart

and the cravings start

to preserve that almost-there

feeling, like where

you dragged your lips

down my shoulder

or the nostalgic

sense of a new

room

in a rented flat

as sun slants

across clean paintwork

dust-motes dance

I would

tear apart

shred the world

just to

keep this

butterfly-bright moment

pinned

to my taskbar

like yearning, like wanting, like chance

but the light just

slips

through my hands

 

Photo by Jack B on Unsplash

Winterise

 

frigidaire air

cold on bottle-green arms

inhale exhale, snuffle-gulp

chill shots, no covid

don’t touch

turquoise face

stretch

alabaster calves

yellowhite, marbled

tight, neat, chocked, clocked

surprised but not shocked

ready to run

here it comes

breath like a vape

grey morning takes

extra

moments

to

arrive

pinkorange imperial glory

of clouds over

water as

ghosts glide

majestic

winter sunrise

 

Photo: Claire Doble

Tottenham

The sound of birds

and soft air

made me think of

cottages in Tottenham

all those ago years

 

I was the only one

who saw them

well, the only one who walked there

traversing miles

with a sleeping child

music in my ears

mid-green haze

dappled English sun

never blazed

quietly rolling through

knife-crime enclaves

and weird parks

no one used

the way I-

stepped the streets

keeping on-side of sane

and baby

entertained

 

Now a smooth Jenga piece

that slots in my brain

time out of mind

small corner of terrain

untravelled often

fond and strange

tunnel-vision place

 

new seasons carry

old memories’ trace

 

Photo: “Seven Sisters Snail” by Claire Doble

Slip

I will slip in under your radar

to a room bathed blue in TV-light

where pictures haunt and flicker

empty, and the sound turned quiet

edges of my teeth touch, catch

weak magnet unsticks

clings

I will slip in like the noise

of soft rain wakes you up

next morning wonder

how a bright wall

gets impossible to see

in slabs of summer sun

when shadeblooms shock the eyes

I will slip in, I will slip in to your pocket

finger me like a half-forgotten coin

smooth from use, warm

savouring the many chances and

ways to spend

 

Recording (poem changed a bit and have updated it above) https://soundcloud.com/user-808707280/slip

https://soundcloud.com/user-808707280/slip

 

Photo: https://unsplash.com/@aajanita