Believe in the importance of struggle

to achieve an objective, or resist.

As part of changing life, it’s integral.

For a diff’rent world, we need to insist.


Of course, more powerful when we’re combined.

Those for present order to overcome.

Don’t accept readily new states of mind.

Seeking change by test of will, can bring some.


For an individual too, galvanized.

Struggle to perform, achieve, get things right.

Have to do it, and not get traumatized.

Anticipation, though anxious, of fight.


Struggle under the skin and in the bones.

Tension with safety, but future to own.

Cardio Version.

It’s a cardio version of events.

An account that seems electrifying.

A charge that will be of significance.

Reason valid, for assimilating.


Aversion therapy, though, to the shock.

Proceed, unconvinced of explanation.

Don’t know another narrative, to block.

Regard process as a simulation.


An episode with all the wires attached.

Connected and ready for the switch on.

For the outcome, completely unabashed.

Unthinkable, anything going wrong.


Cure, or just first phase of the heart attack.

Anxious, but in the script, no going back.

‘A’ Student.

Now I don’t claim to be an ‘A’ student,

but could study you to degree level.

My report would say ‘lot of improvement’.

Qualify as a hard working devil.


Maybe being an ‘A’ student baby,

I could get to learn so much about you.

Dissertation on a special lady.

All of the examinations, get through.


Trying to be an ‘A’ student, honey.

And you can help with a lot of teaching.

Expert tuition would benefit me

For extra homework, I’d be beseeching.


A wonderful world this would be, O Lord.

Having passed the tests, c’lecting the award.


A migraines malevolent mental mask

brings forth jagged edges of broken glass.

Blurring proper sight, so function’s a task.

Shards dance around the head, and will not pass.


Focus slowly returns as possible.

But a dull, heavy foreboding remains.

Its lifting feels somehow intractable.

How to operate, must just ascertain.


Foreign presence arrived uninvited.

Its serrated edges taking up home.

Wheel of teeth’s track from when it departed,

left a marked path in skull to place unknown.


It took its toll, with no medication.

Slow brainer, on road to devastation.

Mon Cherie.

You can see me at any time, my sweet.

You will always be welcome, Mon Cherie.

Should it become known, will still be discreet.

I want you to know, you can count on me.


Life’s troubles need not disturb us in here.

Although you can speak of them if you want.

I assure you that they will disappear.

Don’t have to continue to disappoint.


I expressed my thanks for this thoughtfulness.

The consideration and kind offer.

But carrying on for now, more or less.

No doubt at a later date, mon amour.


The proposal of a place to escape.

Tempting. But not right yet for your embrace.

What Rothko Says.

Mark Rothko’s late period. Reds and blacks.

Increasingly black as nearer to end.

The painted clouds affected by smoke stacks.

It’s onward to black as the mood descends.


The earlier yellows had much more hope.

Even reds with depth were imbued with life.

The blues a variety showing scope

Then the black; for the future, a midwife.


Squares, rectangle blocks of colour, and black.

Like clouds; seeing through to a view of mind.

Existential basic brain page, as fact?

before thoughts and feelings scratch on it lines.


Yet, think and feel will erase and go back.

‘though at that time, the colour will be black.


Other influence is Schopenhoeur’s

philosophy. A potted version read.

Where Will, even if frustrated, flowers

as driving force in life until we’re dead.


Try to impose on inanimate world

and nat’ral forces of varying strength.

Striving. Even if attain, feel compelled

to strive anew. Craving. This force immense.


Makes me think of birds nest. Hungry chicks feed

open mouthed.   Or clash of wills. No retreat

bringing conflict and driving all that greed.

Accept. Diminish it between heartbeats.


Enough. Lot more to will than addiction.

To live happy, hard to find prescription.

Long Shot.

No other game on that Bank Holiday,

so over to Walthamstow Avenue

at the Green Pond Road ground, Higham Hill, to play

Scarborough FC.  Chances fanciful


because Scarborough better side by far.

Strong defence tackling, controlling the game.

Surprise just one goal scored under the bar.

Then moment that lives in mind; wasn’t plain.


In desperation A’s man tries long shot.

Misses by a mile over the crossbar.

But keeps going up. Kicked with all he’d got.

Up, out of ground. Up much higher and far.


Still going up as smashes flat window.

(only next , make up) – Through the roof it goes.

Chinese Schoolgirls.

Chinese schoolgirls stand there blocking my path.

In their uniforms. Without expression.

Waiting to see what I will do. It’s daft.

First say ‘hi’, then ‘ho’, but no impression.


Chemical workers join the ensemble.

They further make the path unpassable.

With test tubes, tripods and smoking thumbful.

I wave, hoping it’s not combustible.


They disperse to look at next exhibit.

Only for the moment was best in show.

In my small habitat, seem stuck in it.

Whilst not understanding groups come and go.


Could perform a little better, suppose.

Dance a jig. Recite some outlandish prose.


Surrounded by the masses in the Shop.

Boatload of women in Department Store.

Still on the decking, while they buy or not.

Stay casual on board, as they walk the floor.


Quantity of womanhood browse and buy.

Recession, what recession, get it on.

Not sure they’ll wear it, but give it a try.

Think it’s right, but on you dear all looks wrong.


Last one to be cynical with my shape.

Last one to talk with my fashion judgment.

So ladies get out the measuring tape.

With that oversize dress, can be intent.


Why does this irony overcome me.

May buy myself. If bargain; have to see.