Breaker

I can’t afford to care about this place
the state of it would cut me like a knife

the sucked dry state of it
would gut me…………………leave me gasping
desperate for the stolen air

so I smash this place
foul it up

scar it to force a space between us
I cannot be this place………..I can’t afford
the cost of loving it

Posted in Dark Matters - some poems for Lent | Tagged , , , | 1 Comment

Damage

at the raw edge of things
the end places
we see the grain
the broken fabric
meet the grit under the gloss
cannot avoid knowing
what things are really made of

rust fractures
solid stuff blown to dust
ragged edges tear
smashed boards
push splinters under our skin
we take the wreckage with us

Posted in Dark Matters - some poems for Lent | 3 Comments

Lullaby

hush in your cradle
…..the sky is your cradle
hush in your cradle
…..the grey winds rock

don’t fret for your bones
which are biscuit crumb yellow
don’t fret for your bones
which are dust in the air
fly in the light and be easy
be peaceful
sleep in the shining of winter’s bright stars

hush in your cradle
…..the sky is your cradle
hush in your cradle
…..the grey winds rock

don’t fret for your breath
which is one with all breathing
don’t fret for your breath
for your sighing is done
rest in the light and be easy
be peaceful
sleep in the shining of summer’s bright sun

hush in your cradle
…..the sky is your cradle
hush in your cradle
…..the grey winds rock

Jan Dean ©

Posted in A poem a day for April | Leave a comment

Sexual attraction in a revolving door

Sexual attraction in a revolving door

Sexual attraction in a revolving door

Image | Posted on by | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

Dear Matthew

Dear Matthew.

Posted in A poem a day for April | Leave a comment

Dear Matthew

Dear Matthew

do you remember
when we took the innards from the oven
and strung them up inside the lean-to
to make a gamelan?
….. I hear thunder
….. I hear thunder
and pitter-patter raindrops
fell in our song and the ting-tang clang
of soup ladle on grill
fell on the corrugated plastic of the roof
fell
….. fell
………….. fell
into the black tadpoles of music

do you remember spinning a spiderweb
of string from shed to swing
….. to greenhouse door
….. and Margaret’s green gate?

and the day we built a golden palace
from eggboxes
filled it with red mud,
……………….. flying fish and octopus
do you remember
even though we never did it?

© Jan Dean

Posted in A poem a day for April | 1 Comment

Mass in B Minor

Bach left just enough room
for daffodils
narcissi incarnatus
willow crucifixus
under moonlight
they slowly opened
and their cool wet smell
filled the room

……….  Jan Dean

……….J

Posted in A poem a day for April | Tagged , , , , , | 1 Comment