on the common

trouser knees greened by trees
hands grimed in dirt
from finding flints and cow teeth
on the common with the blackberries
before pesticides were ubiqitous
copper blue, peacock, swallowtail
lapwing, chaffinch, blue titmouse

we are learning this place
the suffolk accent
supplanted by estuary english
or times in the potteries
the influence of border scots

i don’t like to be simplified
have no interest in being categorised
setting light to maps
a single typist not writing stereotypes
listening to the beatles in mono
watching silent films

you slipslide through it
not to climb out of it
but to see that you are of it
and not boxed in it
but elevated by it

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fluid solid

i don’t want there to be a coastline
and i do not need a turbulent ocean
i am not interested in a storm front
i’m not a storm drain
you are not a gutter of run-off
and this is not a storm warning day

we caught raindrops over years
and mined diamonds for a line
to wrap around a neck
and come full circle
choked by the fruit of pressure

beauty isn’t a lazy arrival
and duty isn’t something trivial
and life is about more than just survival
this isn’t just a sunny interval
we are carving out a sunshine hollow
footsteps in the snow for you to follow
that are snowflake islands that never lose their identity

no hidden corners

no whiskey to pickle
just coffee to invigorate
poetry after rapid meditate

too much
not enough
defining self in opposition

where are you at in that?
where will you be in this?
there are question marks wherever

you sometimes know there are no answers
there are no hidden corners
bleached by the light we are shining