Cattribute ‘Y’
Yesterday
++might be today if you and I decide 
to play. But though I’m Yang
++I’m human now, and you’re a cat, my Yin,
today. What has ended can’t begin,
++so wave goodbye to what you can’t bring back
and prize your black fur coat and full moon eyes,
++rare items in tomorrow’s
++++yesterday.
Vol.9 THE NATURAL WORLD The Bestiary 2
Contigo
+++++++A Glenwys
+++Vente conmigo querida
+++te lo suplico,
+++al chiringuito de Réynold
+++el ‘Malibú’,
+++a ver la puesta del sol.
+++Me da igual ~
+++que no sirvan horchata,
+++chicharones al uso,
+++ni pechuga de pavo
+++ni jamón de Jabugo,
+++cuchifritos ni chícharos,
+++chirimoyas cremosas
+++(pa’ chuparse los dedos),
+++leche frita, torrijas,
+++ni cuajada con miel,
+++y no se halle el anís
+++Chinchón dulce (¡sin hielo!)
+++auténtico de ‘la Alcoholera’.
+++~ al estar tú conmigo en el Malibú.
+++Nos pondrán un gin tónic
+++(un Rives) en balón;
+++más papas aliñadas,
+++pez espada y caballa,
+++acedías y sardinas
+++y más de un boquerón,
+++albóndigas, pimientos
+++asados, croquetas y
+++filetes a la plancha; .
+++nos pondrán carajillos
+++de brándy, o café
+++y anís la Castellana (en balón).
+++~ ¡Sin igual,
+++al estar tú conmigo en el Malibú! ~
+++Entretanto chirigotas,
+++el chapoteo
+++de las olas, la inquietud
+++de este levante,
+++y el paseo de la luna.
( also in Volumes 1 and 6)
Vol.4 EROS In absentia
Fragment 3
++++Saffron, they claim
++++(from the stigma of the crocus)
++++gives food flavour,
++++gives food colour,
++++lends a delicate aroma.
++++Some fast-food cooks
++++– mainly chasing
++++profits cheaply,
++++and thoughtless slaves to microwaves –
++++say such talk is hocus-pocus.
++++But fragrance left, to smell and taste,
+++++++and colour (look!),
++++gently tell that saffron’s claims aren’t
+++++++gobbledegook:
++++some stigma’s worth its weight in gold.
(also in Volume 10)
Vol.6 Mixed blessings
Hard-pressed
+++The sea-food market in the square
+++is tightly packed and humming; still
+++crowds pour in, panting, set to buy.
+++A nudge – I’m just in time to glimpse
+++the bum packed tight, cheeks pertly poured
+++in the pants, and set. Crowded, what!
+++“Not on the market!” I mutter,
+++and then the lump swelling in my
+++throat shows it hurts, this food for thought.
(also in Volume 6)
Vol.2 EROS Foibles of the flesh
A lull in a storm
+++Trees, darkness, jagged flashes
++++of lightning downwards streaking.
+++Rain, noise, a river rushes
++++fast by a woman weeping.
+++Silence sudden, wind at rest –
++++bird disturbed rebuilds its nest.
+++Clouds disperse, dark light ensues:
++++tragic Moon! nocturnal ruse!
Vol.11 Wrestling at dawn
María José of the real estate agency
+++With shake and tap and
+++flickering jingle
+++of a tambourine,
+++click-click-crack of
+++castanets,
+++a high-pitching
+++piccolo,
+++soul of a flute –
+++that’s my girl! bursting
+++into the quietness
+++of the closing day.
+++Dust-devils spin
++++++out of the Inland,
+++spray flashes, fizzes
++++++flung from the breakers,
+++gusts of air bring
++++++word of the East Wind,
+++sparks sizzle over
++++++incandescent coals.
+++Into the quietness
+++of the closing day
+++– that’s my girl, bursting
+++with shake and tap and
+++flickering jingle
+++of a tambourine,
+++click-click-crack of
+++castanets,
+++a high-pitching
+++piccolo,
+++soul of a flute.
(also in Volume 1)
Vol.3 EROS Heavings of the Heart
Poor Idea
+++The Idea, quite clear in its head
+++as to what it wanted to say,
+++initiated
+++++++a painstaking
+++++++++++search for the
++++++++++++++++Mot juste.
+++After many
+++++++vicissitudes,
+++++++++++it found a
++++++++++++++++candidate.
+++On the day, the Word turned up drunk
+++with its mates, all after the job.
+++The Idea, its head in a spin,
+++consulted a mirror, afraid
+++of detecting
+++++++symptoms
+++++++++++of mistaken
++++++++++++++++identity.
Vol.10 Words at play
Recital at Santa Catalina, Cadiz
+++Sitar plucked, 
+++the notes at first
+++exploratory
+++float, tremulous
+++and languid,
+++across the hushed and open Castle square.
+++Confident,
+++they gather pace,
+++work up to a
+++frenzy, wait there,
+++and subside.
+++War, then peace, in the ancient Castle square.
+++Flexible,
+++they tease, and tunes
+++unfolding are
+++detected and
+++promptly dropped.
+++Just games, over the watchful Castle square.
+++++++++++++++********
+++The raga grows
+++– grips the ear –
+++sounds quiver,
+++pulse, pile up,
+++jostle, spill
+++and overflow,
+++in tandem with
+++the rhythms
+++– of challenge,
+++dialogue
+++or echo –
+++of tablas tapped.
++++++++++++++********
+++Below the Castle, black Atlantic waves
+++break and flow
+++as the dancers’
+++dresses rise and
+++fill, then sparkle,
+++swirl and fall.
+++Through the Castle, the gusting summer wind.
+++– Opposites,
+++complementary –
+++each figure, face
+++tells its tale,
+++charms the heart.
+++Behind the Castle, white – the silent Moon.
+++The dancers
+++pause, their arms speak
+++towards the sky
+++of loneliness,
+++desire, love.
+++The wraps fall still, the ankle bells are quiet.
Vol.1 Cadiz
Sense of loss, loss of the senses
+++A taste, a touch, is all you need to have
+++to set in motion change, which – however
+++imperceptible at first – in time will
+++take not simply wine and glass, but stone, and
+++you.
+++Inhale the fragrance of a rose, a bowl
+++of pot-pourri, a wooden camphor chest:
+++some perfume lingers days, some – months, some – years,
+++then nothing’s left. Though all you do is breathe,
+++it goes, like you.
+++I knew a cottage once, with cedars, pines,
+++and fruit, which – like an island – had a stream
+++all round: a site to live and love, for life.
+++Cat and rooster, hens, ducks and ducklings, spoke
+++their thoughts; in the wind the cedars sighed, and
+++by night and day the water whispered, past.
+++The sights and sounds made magic in my mind.
+++I looked and listened, took part, respected
+++the rituals of the show. Still, in time,
+++though nothing seemed to change, the magic ceased.
Vol.5 Measuring Up
Up and away
+++Seen on the ground, nearby, they always looked
+++a greasy lot, furtive, scruffy, squat, al-
+++most vulgar, their gait impatient, jerky.
++++++But then, unbidden,
++++++innumerable,
++++++they filled the sky, hung
++++++an undulating
++++++belt of black against
++++++the blue; contracting,
++++++then, they made a square
++++++which stretched and shrank, and
++++++shrank and stretched; and then
++++++a moment later
++++++they curled and rolled, spun
++++++into a breakneck
++++++spiral, plummeted
++++++headlong for the ground;
++++++but then the vortex
++++++split, regrouped, and formed
++++++a cloud, circular,
++++++tremulous and dense;
++++++off they drifted, then
++++++swinging suddenly
++++++they soared and slipped, slipped
++++++and soared, blurs which zig-
++++++zagged, wavered, grew, drew
++++++close; then, dropping low,
++++++they passed, followed by
++++++a rush, a ‘whoosh’ of
++++++wings …… and they were gone.
+++Now, maybe, you’ll term them ‘iridescent’,
+++‘alert’, ‘carefree’, ‘sturdy’, ‘different’; and self-
+++respecting starlings do find walking …… dull.
Vol.8 THE NATURAL WORLD The Bestiary 1
……Who on Earth ……
+++High, high above, the great birds wheel
+++and hang there, waiting, in the sky.
+++In front, the pastel patterns of
+++the temple cool the summer sun,
+++as pilgrims of all faiths wait cross-
+++legged on the warm and dusty ground.
+++Everywhere, the soothing flow of
+++Indian music …… which slows, and stops.
+++The shuffle, fidget, whispers - cease,
+++and silence, only, fills the air.
+++From the temple comes a figure
+++clad in orange, unassuming,
+++slight. Does it walk? or does it glide?
+++Its bearing seems to indicate
+++a holy man, but there’s a hint
+++as well of emperor – or more.
+++His presence thrills the thousands as
+++he passes, reassures, and guides.
+++To some he stops and talks, bends low
+++to hear their answers; to many
+++he speaks in silence, listens long
+++to the silent words of others.
+++From outstretched hands he gathers notes
+++with pleas, and grateful promises.
+++At a distance, and then nearby,
+++I saw the aura, blue and white,
+++a halo glowing round his head:
+++Sai Baba’s … Who on Earth is That!
+++High, high above, the great birds wheel,
+++and hang there, waiting, in the sky.
Vol.7 THE NATURAL WORLD Heaven and earth
