BOVINE LAMENT

I wonder what you actually see

As you pause at the gate to gaze at me.

Is it a dumb and senseless beast,

Or perhaps your next Sunday feast?

Maybe a new pair of boots comes to mind,

Or do you think my skin is the kind

That would make a quality three piece suite

With a stool on which to rest your feet?

I'm sure it has never occurred to you

That I have thoughts and feelings too.

It was torture when I was snatched from my mother,

Then castrated along with my younger brother.

I would have loved some calves of my own,

But they'd have been veal before they were grown.

So it's probably best that my conscience is clear

Of inflicting on them what I'm suffering here.

For I know it's just a matter of time

Until the abattoir claims this life of mine.

They're like chambers of death from World War Two.

I'll be slaughtered just like a tragic Jew.

So before you turn and walk away

And forget me, please answer me pray,

How can you look into my eyes,

Then go to the pub for steak and fries?

SPIRIT OF THE WIND

On fierce
stormy nights I await him
with impatience, fevered longing,
for I know
he will someday come.


Tonight
these bitter Northern Winds
are full of his voice
calling me.
So I scramble to the summit
of wind-battered moorland hill,
where impossible dreams reactivate
long abandoned desires.
Rising from this tomb of flesh
to glide on torrents of air,
I dance amongst falling autumn leaves.
And I find him
hovering here,
a whirlwind of Stardust
in vague human form.
He offers an oxygen 'high',
so I breathe him
deep into avid lungs,
where he becomes the lover
of a restless, untamed Spirit.

Together
we smash through the boundary
of Earthly time,
spanning the entire planet
in an instant;
oxygenating the dying parts
to bring new life
and impartial healing
to all beings.
In this Airy Dimension,
We are,
Have been,
Will be,
Are perfected.

Relentless Storm,
rage on.
Wrench apart these shackles
and take this virginal mortality,
for I want to stay
forever in your eye.

TREEOWL

I came across you one summer's day

While rambling through countryside far away.

I found you such a beautiful thing,

So expertly crafted from claw to wing.

Every feather was true to life

And as I drew nearer I felt the knife

That had carved a totem from living wood,

Creating a species not yet understood.

You incarnated on Earth as a Tree,

But who you are now is what puzzles me.

Are you this Owl that my eyes behold,

Or is it still Spirit of Tree that you hold?

Your lack of movement denies the former,

Plus if you were he you'd feel much warmer.

Yet, although hewn from trunk you're more than Tree.

So Treeowl I conclude you to be!

MOTHERHOOD BLUES

Here lies captured
a fleeting moment
in your life's evolution.
Within this
photographic time capsule
you'll never suffer
adult woes
nor grow old.
I promise to keep you
somewhere safe - at least
for as long as I'm here on Earth.

Wish I could melt
into coloured ink
and sink
into glossy paper.
I'd pick you up
and hug you close
as I loved to do
long ago.
There's such longing
to repair
a broken mother/son bond,
to feel needed again.

The you I see today,
towering high above me
is distant,
far too macho now
for a goodnight kiss.
And I so grieve
discarded childhood;
it's honesty
and simple gestures;
that natural lack
of self-consciousness.
But complacency ensured
that I failed to notice
when the youth shed child form
to become grown man.
So you moved on without me.

Motherhood
is redundant now,
and I no longer
have a name.