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Writing

Thomas Kent is a well-known poet who has had over forty poems publised internationally, inluding in such best-selling anthologies as Men In The Company Of Women.  He has published seven books: Cats and Sparrows (1995), Wilbur the Worm (1995) Pawetical Works by Willoughby the Cat (2009), Tourmaline (2010), Unfinished Poetry (2010), Squealer (2011) Chatoyancy (2012).  He runs his own publishing company, EXACT Publishing, which has published two works:  The Big Read Out Anthology (2012), Hopscotch (John McKelvie, 2013).

 

Darkness Take My Soul

 

Darkness take my soul

For all my life  arrayed

Has the shadow tint of sorrow

And all my songs dismayed.

 

Sadness, peal thy toll

A grief that's unalloyed

And leave me no tomorrow

Stark memories displayed.

 

Aloneness, be my goal

Since no true love I made

With she, who froze my marrow

And happiness destroyed.

 

 

2010

 

1) Fata Morgana

 

The sun that slipped over the horizon of the year

 Licked its lips dripping with the honey of a new decade

Smearing promises onto your tattered shirt

And another new lover lifts the world into a dream

Breasts that melt under your hand like ice-cream;

But one eggcupful of passion is your limit for the day

Kisses that brand with condescension

The lover that from jealousy returns no answer

The broads have found another petulant ten-year old to break their hearts on

You might as well drop the program son it's fluttering in the wind

Always another imbecile to dance for her in the aisles

"She's your daughter squire" written in red letters on the back

Her apartment oozed cats that dripped down the stairwell

And it's not closing yet she's just gone for a smoke;

Consigned to the dustbin of past considered possibilities

Meanwhile the girl in the dowdy dress gives you her best smile

And hugs you limply and just that second too long.

 

2) Memento Mori

 

A decade that delivered a blindsided cascade of improbabilities

Another year delivered to insensibility

The young are in a dream of no duration

And meanwhile meretriciousness is so woven into the mesh of our time

That kids no longer know what is and isn't true

They have to teach them ten million things so they learn nothing at all

Where sex ends, love begins, they lose all distinction

Ninety five percent company and five percent sex or

Five percent company and ninety-five percent sex it's all the same;

There are only shuttered shops in this part of town

The ships are stuck and straining in the tar of the harbour

You no longer shop you just wait for the mail

You're not sure where to find a decent drug dealer anymore

I'm sorry sir you'll have to go around the long way, that part is closed;

And you're fifty so they've entrusted you with other people's lives

Fragile as a long-legged spiders in the palm of your hand

Get it right and maybe a hundred will live another day

Get it wrong and the same number will die

Your wisdom insufficient their crying tongues stilled into silence

"Hold onto the handrails while the bus is in motion".

 

3) Ketu

 

Hypatia where did you sleep last night?

A red rose flung in the direction of the landing

After all, if you wait, it won’t happen ‘till tomorrow

One believes only in things she can’t see and the other only in things she can

It’s hard to let your enemies win for the sake of your friends

“I’m sorry, sir, that will be another sixpence.”

Caring and giving may be some recompense

When the tram corners the old fall off their seats;

You’ve only one word anyway, that’s all that will be heard

And knowing when to say it’s wisdom, such as it is

But if they don’t listen, there’s little enough you can do

There were apples growing in her bathroom

You find the most precious things left out in the rain.

 

4) Lest We Forget

 

And now they think everything’s made out of string

You suspect it is something you should have known all along

Because they think you’re wise you’re given other people’s lives to play with

Reluctantly accepted because the alternative is worse

I’ve been many things but all of them are mine;

“Hey mister can you spare a man a smoke”

Triage is the unremitting aspect of our lives

And we all know some secrets that are not meant to be shared

If you’re too particular you end up with the worst food in town

The tree turned its back too lost for the mentioning

It's the smog that make the neighbour's plants grow so tall

“I thought that you intended to come last Saturday”

I thought I saw an angel roosting on the roof

Time moves through nothing on a dream of it’s own.

 

- Jan 1 to Jan 5 2011

 

 

A SMALL ELDERLY CAT

 

Night

As usual when we meet

And no doubt the

Fairies or gods who are responsible for such things

Have once again picked up a handful

Of shining dust that glitters like gravel on a driveway

On a bright Saturday afternoon

And flung it with careless abandon

Strewing specks of spirit

Across a black pasture.

 

But we see none of this;

We are too intent upon each other's eyes.

We are drinking in the sight of each other's faces

On this rare time that we have found the time to meet

So busy are our lives, that this

The most vital and rare spice, the essence

The fountain of youth, the secret oil of life

Can be fitted in so seldomly.

As always I have no comparison:

Poor and few the poetic words i can find

To invoke the blushed rose marble of your cheeks

The beauty of the way the shadows

Form worlds and wonders on the perfection of your white skin.

The lights of Chinatown are like pink and orange hands

Stroking the contours of your face

It's a beauty i can only invoke, suggest, not reproduce

A moment, an hour, that I can treasure but not keep.

 

After the crisp roast duck

Has dripped fat down our chins

The oriental stove set a fire in our mouths

The orange blossom in cinnamon sugar syrup

Lavished on us a sweetness less sweet than your hearts

It's a mutual weary stumble through dreary malls

A long dull train journey, an aching tired walk through suburban streets

To the yolk of your golden egg filled with

Warmth and kindness.

 

Tonight it is all about a small old cat

That you are temporarily looking after

With three human adults

(two, at least, brilliant, talented and great-hearted)

Lavishing care and caresses upon her.

And she deserves such doting attention;

For she is the elder here, and thus deserving of centre place

Though so obviously aged and in pain

Dignified dowager, dainty, polite, fine and gentle.

And you are anxious for me to caress her

Believing, as you always have, that the touch of my hands

Has a special power to bring delight

And indeed, she closes her eyes and purrs gently

In bliss

And later, dozes on your lap

(so all beings would if they were able):

Yet this elderly tom is not forgotten

Exposing his own vulnerability and trusting himself to

The tender gentleness of your caring.

 

The brief two hours we have snatched

Are all too soon over, and you walk me back

To a journey dismal and long - made delightful

By the remembered suffusion of love

Mozart, transformed with rhythms by Nyman

Continues the beauty of memory in my head

Walking back to the cold deserted station

No doubt here, the lights being less bright than in the city

The stars are visible now above; yet we do not look up

For us

The only stars are in each other's eyes.

 

And I find that I truly believe

The joyous triumphs of trumpets

Wrought by that gentle genius long ago

Signal that such selfless love will, one day

Lift us all into the eternal light

And peace, of heaven.                                  

 

January 8 2014

 

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MMD

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