John Clare  597




597 by John Clare

When first issued this won an award. Unfortunately that didn't make me rich and famous.
You can buy a copy of the book here:


See a few excerpts from the book...


Dusk
the blackbird
paints his writing
right across the orange sunset
the trees silent
the air quick about me touching
senses all across me
and i stride thru the world as tho
it is my own
Auto-Autumn

The dark trees swerve
bleakly
across the sky
and an agitated leaf
totters
slowly across the road
like an old aged pensioner

at the back of
the garage a
fly
hastily changing gear
revs his whining engine
revs and revs and
slowly burns out his clutch in the spiderweb

* * * * *

Success

I knew success was
waiting
for me in the same old place
just around the corner
but i could never see
which corner hid
the glitter and the fame
and anyway
a tough wind blew
hard in my face
and there were dragons in my mind
i dared not fight

And now
maybe as you listen
you can hear the small sad whimper
that was once a battle cry
as success
still just around the corner
waits for someone else

Among the Fruit and Veg

I was shopping among the fruit
when you passed behind me
I stopped and turned
to pat your bottom
surprised to feel you near
and watched
hand stretched
to touch
as someone else
wearing your scent
walked down the aisle
and just like you
left me standing
smile fading into sadness

* * * * *

Christmas Carol

I'm dreaming of a bright christmas
with sunshine painting all the bowers
and dancing on the tips of waves
and encouraging the new-born flowers

I'm dreaming of a peaceful year
a world of smiles instead of strife
a world where dreams at last come true
to celebrate the joy of life

    It's such a simple dream
    but so difficult it seems
    what is the problem here
    what is it that we fear
    why do we rush to spike
    those things we say we like

I'm dreaming of a bright christmas
not like the ones we used to know
I'm dreaming of a better time
when every face at last will shine
Ricorso

At the end of the day
the silence which passes all understanding and
seeks the soul
to clean, rejuvenate and prime
the silence
which washes out all ears

At the end of the day
i hear the silence all around me
and i tiptoe in

Darkness at the close of day
darkness i can sit and watch
the darkness which cleans the eyes of aimless flicker
enfolds the soul
and pads the silence

i hear no world
see no world
i feel no world

Hush, i am growing again