Anger

We’ve all been angry enough

to kill someone

red mist and adrenalin

but somehow we don’t.

We shout, we scream

we smash the furniture

but the brakes kick in

and breathlessly

we leave it

sleep on it

and think again

yet some don’t

and we call them monsters

and deny that we’ve ever known

the touch of fury.

Composition No 2

Here's an old favourite:

Tensing, straining, holding muscles

Contort stance and visage

Breaks for readjustment

Turtle’s head touching cloth

Sitting, pensive, relief from strain

Stomach empty yet full

Adjusted and cleansed

But still the remnants

Are leaving on parachutes

Of fairy’s wing

Dented and creased re-cycled

The silvering handle makes

The orifice sing

And all is gone

Round the bend

Mank Boliday Honday

Sunny skies said Michael

and everyone smiled

and rummaged in the closet

for the lost sandals

and the hat of straw

we’d never ever wear.

Blue and bright our Monday

with everyone off work

all barbecues and picnics

by the green lakeside

that we never see

until this time of year

Hot and sweaty bedtime

with everyone awake

the duvet on the carpet

face stuck to the pillows

remains of the day

still buzzing in our minds