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Author Archives: Dick Jones
dog sutras
dog sutra §59 and the rain fell in one long story we sidestepped between trees i tripped my length into fallen water and you chased a hare into a rainbow Dog Sutras §62 the green barleycrowds the horizonpopulous intenseas if … Continue reading
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Dog Sutras §58 stop pause stand unthink nothing everything Dog Sutras §47 you chased the hare a golden zigzag covering the roots and hollows as if born amongst bracken and moss we waited locked in time i whistled and called … Continue reading
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Dog Sutras § 52 at the edge of angel wood there is a sort of gateway we wonder what’s beyond we stop short no closer than this hold the dream Dog Sutra §22 sad at the passing of a friend … Continue reading
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DOG SUTRAS
DOG SUTRAS Dog Sutras §12we make it homejust as the sundies in its own fire Dog Sutras §13here at the pondthe light swallowsthe huge trees Dog Sutras §14crow jane ladyin your housein the windflying still
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SHIP TO SHORE Here I am, said the old manstill young, trapped betweenship and shore. I understand that we’re always on the gangplank, having just arrived or just heading for departure. There’s always someone to talk to, someone pausing to … Continue reading
DOG SUTRAS
dog sutra §1 leaves turn into butterfliesthey’ve understood that as winter bitesthey might fly away dog sutra §2 leaves go to earthberries hanglike bright bells dog sutra §3 the two of usyou runningquicksilverinto your futureme as slowas one step forwardand then … Continue reading
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DOG SUTRAS §1.
The Dog Sutras and their accompanying photos all derive from walks with Lupin across and around the fields, meadows and woodland near our home in North Hertfordshire. §§§ leaves go to earth berries hang like bright bells
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EXHAUSTED CLICHES AND MIXED METAPHORS
‘Songwriters are not poets, Or songs are not poems, I should say. In fact, songs are often bad poems. Take the music away and what you’re left with is often an awkward piece of creative writing full of lumpy syllables, … Continue reading
FLIGHTPATHS – POEMS ABOUT AEROPLANES
We all of us – well, many of us – carry through from childhood certain key interests or preoccupations. Living under what was then the London Airport flightpath, I grew accustomed to seeing at comfortable height pretty much everything that … Continue reading
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