March 17, 2009

11th to 17th March

More excuses, I am awful, and they all have to do with a boat and sitting on rippling water watching sunlight dapple swans and thinking "I'd really like to write about this" but then getting out of the boat and getting home and being so tired to do anything except eat and go to sleep. Except, it is the holidays so I have nothing to blame except myself and my own laziness. Yesterday I found time to wander around Kensington in sunshine and eat lots of scones and drink tea and champagne in Hyde Park and today I walked around Christchurch Meadows with a sandwich and a diet coke and an old friend so yes, I have found time to write some poetry and also to write a self-indulgent, fake depracating and long winded explanation of the past 5 days or so. 

Without further ado therefore...

17th March

Deep breaths

hot tea

deep breaths




stand up

straight back

eyes down

and watch.

and pause.

and wait.


16th March


Swans jeer, I pass them by

but with long strokes they catch up, 

taunting and

teasing so

I lock my wrists and try

desperately hard to breath. 


The boy slash man opposite is 

attractive but as attractive

as my dress? I'm not sure.

The problem is 

I prefer clothes to human contact:

softer, prettier, longer lasting.


Is graffitti on trains wrong?

I write on the arm of this

jubilee line heading east. 

The man next to me writes

yes, in red felt pen.

11th March (I did actually write this on the 11th) 

The grey stone is you.

How you look when wet and cold is you

or windswept and blown.

How you moan in February

how you breathe in May

how you laugh in July

and how you defend against cold in December

and fight fog when the North Sea frets and

encompasses us, and you, and 

hear only barks and shouts in the 

very far distance and see

nothing, is you.

- One comment Not publicly viewable

  1. Christopher Mlalazi

    This is a great blog Jennifer. Will take my time to go through it. Keep up the good work.

    02 Apr 2009, 17:02

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  • I love it. Everything. One thing that amused me was the "climbing into bed", there is a bit of a jok… by Sue on this entry
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