After the killing

i.m of Jo Cox MP
 

After the killing

The day after that man killed Jo Cox

I ate strawberries

for breakfast

because they were fat

and red

and ready with the sweetness of joy.

I walked to the top of the hill

and saw the sea, grey and cold

but breathing, below,

all the while

on its incoming tide over endless sands

rolling always and forever.

I sat on a seat above the beach

in the sun

and emptied my mind

watched the waves –

sheets of steel

rolling on.

I listened to Bach played on guitar

massive concertos

pitching

in six stunning strings.

I spoke to a young woman

who I had known when she was a girl

and we talked about her glorious baby

due soon

on some happy day.

I bought a new novel

to read later …

That anticipation

that it is there

the words waiting

for me

when I am ready

sometime

this summer.

I picked herbs from the garden –

mint and parsley

and watched the cat rolling

in the catnip

quite off her face.

I saw the swallows

scything over the fat meadow

to gather food

for their young.

And, just to make sure

that you were there

I sent you a text

on a pretext.

Still there.

I read a poem

on Facebook

by a friend

who said

we have to do this

because

however bad the world is

there is love

and light

and no-one can take that away

from us.

So I wrote new poetry

about love

because that is all there is

and I thought of life

this life

how we

have to keep breathing

over our own endless sands.

First published here: https://iamnotasilentpoet.wordpress.com/

This poem was read out at a memorial event for Jo Cox in Canterbury in July 2016, and at Big Get Together events in July 2017 at various venues in England, and on Bardsey Island, Ynys Enlli.

For more info on events  https://www.jocoxfoundation.org

She's the reason I wear pink shoes

This poem is for a friend of mine from way back, who I have lost touch with. Always remember her when I wear these.

She’s the reason I wear pink shoes

You should have seen the shop –

deep marine blue all over the front.

If her tan was good

she’d wear bright yellow

to make the contrast with the blue.

And she’d make sure her hair colour

was the correct shade of red,

real red, not auburn.

She sold teapots,

all white, with coloured dots –

blue, red, yellow, green.

And jugs for milk, butter dishes to match.

Cups, saucers and mugs in primary colours,

with spots and stripes.

Even her scrubbing brushes had colours –

red and green bristles shone out of willow baskets.

There were throws in autumn garb –

rust, Virginia creeper scarlet, acer and beech brown

and cushions to scatter like falling leaves.

Candles in all colours

some even rainbows,

with holders to match or contrast.

Customers touched things,

they couldn’t resist

picked them up

put them back askew.

A tight smile

a taut thank you as they left.

She’d wait until they had gone,

the door closed behind them

and she’d put everything back

where it should be

perfect

it was her favourite word.

*First published in The Writers’ Café Magazine, April 2018:

 https://thewriterscafemagazine.wordpress.com/2018/04/16/the-writers-cafe-magazine-issue-7-shoes/

Rest in the arms

Here's one from my second collection, Breakfast in Bed.... love poems and poems about love. This one was first published by WritersCafe. Links below.

Rest in the arms

the weight we carry

 is love

(from Song, by Allen Ginsberg)

I remember the hard muscles

of your thighs

across mine,

your arm heavy on my breasts.

I am pinned

by you,

a little afraid

of your bulk on me

but as I lie here

hardly able to breathe

I don’t want

you to move.

I am comforted by this load

this holding

that I thought would never be again.

While our warm bodies cool,

                exposed    

                by a dragging duvet

I watch moon patterns

on the wall

                striped shadows of blinds

and I think of Ginsberg –

                the weight of the world

                                is love

and as I know I won’t sleep yet

                I try

to recall more words

                the burden of life

                                is love

I hear the steadiness of your breath

as you sleep on me

                rest in the arms

                                of love

First published here: https://thewriterscafemagazine.wordpress.com/2018/02/13/the-writers-cafe-magazine-issue-5-love-music/

Breakfast in Bed, published by Indigo Dreams, Autumn 2019. https://www.indigodreams.co.uk/jackie-biggs/4594692749

'Fiona'

Listening to one of the black cab rapist's first victims talk on radio about her ordeal and then reading about the latest court case, when the woman we call 'Fiona' came face to face with her attacker at a Judicial Review hearing, prompted this poem.


‘Fiona’

I saw you in court

tried to imagine how you may be feeling

putting yourself out there

a victim

and then he turned up

a few yards away

you weren’t expecting that

how would that feel?

‘He’s been in my head for 15 years,’  you said

and there he is again

in front of you

he’s behind glass

but there was glass between you before

in that cab

they said you were not

a credible witness

‘A black cab driver

just wouldn’t do that.’

But he did

and you have lived with him in your head

for 15 years

believing that you let all the others down

those hundreds

who went through that

after you

because someone decided

you were not believable

This poem was first published here: http://www.poetry24.co.uk/

 

https://www.crowdjustice.com/case/challenge-worboys-release/

BBC Radio 4 Today programme clip: http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/p05xcm63

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/2018/02/07/john-worboys-pictured-arriving-high-court-judge-orders-attend/

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/2018/02/21/john-worboyspolice-failed-victims-black-cab-rapist-supreme-court/

Sevilla

I was pleased to have this poem published along with two others in the 'Love & Music' edition of The Writers' Cafe website on February 14th this year. I started writing it when were by the Rio Guadalquivir in Sevilla in October 2015. On the day it was published by The Writers' Cafe we were back there!


Sevilla

(The labyrinths

formed by time

dissolve

from ‘And After’, Federico García Lorca)

Sun on the river

lovers sit on the wall

                (boats row by, turn

                and go back again)

waves slap on the wall

lovers laugh together

                (across the river the cafes

                are opening)

 

songs in the air

lovers kiss on the strand

moon on the river

lovers embrace under the bridge

                (across the river the cafes

                are closing)

boys play guitars under trees

lovers dance beneath stars

 

First published:  https://thewriterscafemagazine.wordpress.com/2018/02/13/the-writers-cafe-magazine-issue-5-love-music/