Embrace

I'd never held 

a man in my arms,

forty-five years married

and the closest
is a handshake, 

or one of these new 

man-hugs with my sons,

but there you were 

at my front door
almost immediately falling 

onto me,
I was surprised 

at your weight you not 

being a big man
but you pulled me down

and very shortly we were 

both on our knees
you crying, 

me confused,
I held you tightly, 

clasped you chest to chest, 

chin on your shoulder,
aware of your snot 

and tears on my ear,

then I saw the uniforms

she's dead Graham

Norma's dead!

© Graham Sherwood 05/2017/2024

Embarkation

Before undertaking its last journey,

whether it be through

air water fire or earth

a soul must be carefully prepared;

well clothed within the

warming fibres of contentment;

adequately nourished by

the clarity of conscience,

armed discretely

with the power of purpose

and taught to be fluent

in the infinite lexicon

of enlightenment,

thus a soul fed of such riches

fears nought, indeed it

relishes the uncertainty

that awaits its embarkation.

© Graham Sherwood 04/2017

Parfum

After Barbara’s funeral

you asked,

“If I died first

what would you keep of mine?”

I couldn't answer, apart from the quip

"ten bob it'll be me goes anyhow".

Afterwards though I did think

long and hard

and it would be your smell

I'd be lost without,

the trace of No 5

on your pillowcase.

Indelible as your fingerprint,

closer than your smile, yes

I'd need the smell of you.

© Graham Sherwood 04/2017

Wolverton

When asked to wait by someone
boredom very quickly agitates my eye
so everything must be assessed, like evidence
and where it fits within this scene.
A row of untidily parked cars
become uneven poorly manicured toes,
a line of chipped nail varnish reflectors.
Hastily planted whisper saplings
wave and jiggle like excited schoolgirls
awaiting a royal visit.
The clinical lines of a nearby modern building,
raise an acute angled razor blade
not yet bathed by the struggling sun.
Random people come and go
like film extras, aimlessly searching for their mark,
they really have nowhere definite
to strike out for.
Unseen, somewhere distant are children
no doubt a ball is present,
they call and squeal like hungry gulls
squabbling over scraps.
My someone arrives, so I snap
the notebook tight,
the scene, the sounds, the scents
the dramas tightly captured within.
Where to next?

© Graham Sherwood 04/2017

Hejira 1

We are all of the sea

there is salt in our blood,

the salinity of our beginnings

brought onto this land.

We stand to look at the waves

see the tides stroked by the moon

and feel that same motion

the roll, the rinse, the draw

perpetually repeated.

With eyes closed we list

involuntarily, primordially

toward the magnetism of the waves,

fearful that we can never return.

We, destined to scramble up the shore

two steps forward, one step back

must make this place our land

a new place.

© Graham Sherwood 04/2017

Gandini 4x4

(Please read the poem before watching the youtube clip)

silhouettes, smoke, suspense

slap-slap!

sigh

skittles soar skyward

split-second

stop!

standing shoulders squared

syncopated sequences

sssssshhhhhh!

sure-footed, soft-shoe

site-swapping, structures

smoooooth!

silence settles spatial spirits

somnolent symmetry

smile

https://youtu.be/5oU2Z-z2DK4

© Graham Sherwood 04/2017