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