In the history of the World,
Poems and bathroom makeovers don’t naturally go together,
One soars through the clouds and pilots the mist,
The other deals with the practised and the practical.
But bathroom makeovers argue that they belong in the club.
They are the material to lift your spirits,
And cleanse the body, if not the soul.
Bathroom makeovers so want to create vitality,
Craft manly purpose for craftsmen,
And foster intimate human activity, whether solo or not.
Do most poems do that?
We have models and a more amazing version of them – super-models. We have bugs and super-bugs. Normal size and super-size. When it comes to politicians, perhaps no one talks about super-politicians, because politicians struggle to fit into the normal category of beauty or contribution.
Richmond park in London – the place where deer and squirrels graze freely, sunbathe in the buff and roam everywhere. The place where people plan ahead to visit, pay for food, wear ‘sensible clothes’ and deliberately confine themselves to man-made paths!
Do the bubbles in the alcohol we drink, become the little hot-air balloons that lift our spirits?
Politicians have a catalogue of excuses the way supermodels have a catalogue of poses.
Do all bad memories eventually become good actions?
You know you’re in London when…
every minute, you hear a plane coming in to land,
every 2 minutes, you hear a police siren in the distance,
every 30 minutes, you overhear two people arguing,
and only every 120 minutes, do you hear the sound of laughter.
Riding the swell of the pathways,
the tree-like, leafy spray curving off the waves of green overhead,
time to concentrate with carefully balanced feet,
to make my move and surf in towards the distant café.
The taste of salt grows stronger,
as I coast into the café shore,
and sweep up the board that is my bike,
for a well-earned latte, with foam like beach-edging.
She looked at our class,
And saw anything but English scholars.
We rotated through, bent on fun after school,
Never giving the subject of English its chance.
Yet much much later, English is back,
Calling for expression, energy and purpose.
All the World’s a stage. But my English teacher,
Would look shocked to see,
What English expression has finally become.
And the long ago student would look just as shocked,
To see how English the subject, blurred so effortlessly into a lifetime of life.