Ian Stuart

The King is Dead

Flung on the black earth, a crowntwisted, cauterised with flame.Just out of shot, the king’s bonescrumbled, powder.

Quill

floats on a blood stream tarnished silver, sprinkled with grey pearls, tears or sweat.

Carp

He gasps, glitters, flails water, grasps bronze,feels muscles slack, the cold hook.

Shell or Chemise ?

Discarded petty coat- Peach silk flung down on the grass ? Or mussel shell, hiding what pearl? what do you think ?

Chorus

What silent song is noted on green staves, when raindrops quiver on the grass

Shifting light luminous opaque everything provisional- the hills tentative the valley bottoms indistinct uncertain still settling into shape Then,immersed in sunlight, the day develops, fixes the eye. Stone walls grow a coat of green velvet; purple moors shake themselves into a quilt, and in the village a church spire’s shadow points the way to sunsetContinue reading “Morning”

Now we are 70

Over the seabass with capers and lemon(which is delicious).we talk about dying, and women.“I’ll go in an instant,” he says,“Just like a snuffed candle.The doc says I’ve got a bad heartso the chances are good.”“I shall die like a king,” I reply,with family round and a priest to say prayers.Death’s just a rumour.“ We’ll goContinue reading “Now we are 70”

Pass the parcel

First the nurse sends you to the GP whosends you to the consultant whosends you to the scanner technician whosends the picture to the consultant whocalls you in to tell youwhat you already know.

Evening of the day

The day I met Mick Jagger Yeh- I met him.Years ago now. I was working at a motorway caff and the lads come in – Mick and Charlie, Ron and Bill All gasping for a cuppa and a sarnie – and we were really busy – run off our feet. Nobody seemed to pay themContinue reading “Evening of the day”

A few Haiku

4 haiku On the sullen lake A single swan cups dawn within its rustling wings Schoolboy-smart, a fox tastes the air, looks left, then right, steps out across the road.. Robin hops, flashing his bloody chest, cracks the air with his morning song. Egret Like pages thrown away Flickering in the reeds white wings spreadContinue reading “A few Haiku”