• Bodhisattvacharyavatara
    • Introduction
    • Chapter 1
    • Chapter 2
    • Chapter 3
    • Chapter 4
    • Chapter 5
    • Chapter 6
    • Chapter 7
    • Chapter 8
    • Chapter 9
    • Chapter 10
  • collected works
    • 25th August 1981 – count Up
    • askance From Hell
    • Batman
    • The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J. Redford
    • Bob 1995-2012
    • Edward Hopper: Poems at an Exhibition
    • David Bowie Movements in Suite Major
    • Eglinton Hill
    • FLOORBOARDS
    • Granada
    • in and out / the Avebury stones / can’t seem to get / a signal …
    • Lapping Reflections [Deep Within Waters]
    • Miller’s Batman
    • mum
    • nan
    • Portsmouth – Southsea
    • Spring Warwick breezes / over Bacharach fieldwork and boroughs with / the occasional shift and chirp of David / in the pastel-long morning of the sixties
    • through the crash
  • index
    • #A-E see!
    • F–K, wha’ th’
    • L-P 33 1/3 rpm
    • Q-T pie
    • U-Z together forever
  • me
  • others
    • William Carlos Williams
  • poemics
  • poeviews
  • teaching matters
  • wormholes

mlewisredford

~ may the Supreme and Precious Jewel Bodhichitta take birth where it has not yet done so …

mlewisredford

Tag Archives: Crowborough

tag cloud poem IX – haiku is awkward / the more that is left in / like uncombed hair

25 Monday Apr 2016

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

2015, bay window, Crowborough, economics, emptiness, eyes, haiku, hair, hands, Have, hedge, Herbert Road, hills, Hillside, history, horizon, hotel, house, humanity, life, London, rooftops, Shooters Hill, sight, society, tag cloud poem, terrace, Thames, time

                                                     haiku   is awkward

   the more that is left in

     like uncombed  hair

 

 

                                                                                                                                                                            the hands that Have   are

 
                                                    small and gnarly that hedge a                
                                                        fund and close their eyes;

 
                                                my sight formed along
                                          rooflines of
Herbert Road edged
                                                           above the distant
hills

 
                                beyond the river
from terraced steppes along the
     declining line of

 
                                                      Shooters
 Hill; but then

                  my sights folded inwards at

                                                                   Hillside, pages of

 
                                                              turned
 history that had

                                lost its own horizon, from

                                                                                                            hotel to house in

 
                              the bay windows of
                              London where
 humanity
                                                                              is stuck in all time

 

‘aitches’ touch on quite a few boat-ties to my past: ‘Herbert Road’ was the local shopping high street where I lived in London until I was 19; it is in Plumstead which spreads south over the crest of ‘Shooters Hill’ and merges into Woolwich down to the river Thames; ‘Hillside’ is one of a little cluster of houses where I settled to raise a family and grow a career in Crowborough in the late 1980s – that same 80s that, mean-and-all-the-while, Thatcher was creaking open that casket (‘can’t read the label – “–ora’s Box”?’) which left me alien to my own background and lost in my own riverbank mist, save for the miraculous peek of haiku and the deadened gaze of bay window …

`haven’t published a tag cloud poem in a while: they’re made up of the larger tags of my work built up over the years – this one emerged into a series of haiku[esque] pieces of work – almost inevitably; this one was particularly difficult to form, the tag-words didn’t run off each other smoothly – I must admit I left a few words out; the green links are to those respective tags, the different sized fonts determined by the number of ‘topics’ that pertain to that tab … nerk!

 

 

————w(O)rmholes________________________________|—–

Crowborough wormhole: portrait: / two pigeons
economics wormhole: 1959
emptiness wormhole: need
eyes wormhole: bavardage
haiku[esque] wormhole: ‘green plum jam on rye …’
hair wormhole: impressionism
hands & humanity wormhole: Doctor Strange I – the trashcan tilted the better to see now the street
Have wormhole: Nostalgia for Samsara – poewieview #16
hedge wormhole: where the goblins leered – poewieview #14
Herbert Road wormhole: bottom of Herbert Road to the / foot of Eglinton Hill dream
hills wormhole: life [‘n’ death] / legerdemain – poewieview #15
Hillside wormhole: Charlotte
history & horizon wormhole: a theremin note – poewieview #21
hotel wormhole: Hotel Room, 1931
house wormhole: first Spring storm
life & society wormhole: no one – poewieview #24
London & rooftops & Thames wormhole: up on the hill
tag cloud poem wormhole: tag cloud poem VIII – growth
time wormhole: 1968

 

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portrait: / two pigeons

12 Saturday Dec 2015

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

2013, cars, clouds, Crowborough, grey, passing, pigeons, portrait, roads, streetlight, walking

 

 

 

                                                                      portrait:
                                              two pigeons

                           necking and grooming
                           on the #33 streetlamp
                           over the road giving
                           and returning under a
                           wide belly of charcoal-
                           grey cloud pointing
                           across the road and the
                           constant passing of cars
                           into Crowborough out
                           of Crowborough

 

 

 

————w(O)rmholes________________________________|—–

cars & passing wormhole: the breath of London
clouds & grey wormhole: the windmill
Crowborough wormhole: cloud
pigeons wormhole: Plumstead – Woolwich 121114
roads wormhole: 2 pm
streetlight wormhole: purple and mauve
walking wormhole: currency: / assent for statement – / ‘smakin’alivvin’

 

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cloud

07 Tuesday Oct 2014

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

'scape, 2013, 5*, adults, air, blue, car park, childhood, clouds, Crowborough, lamp post, life, North Downs, realisation, rooftops, shadow, sky, streets, town

 

 

 

                           cloud

                           out
                     into the car park
                     high in the town
                     high in the Weald
                     under a blue wide sky

                shadows from the lamp posts
                hang across the air and

                     looking past the roof
                     tops of the high street
                     I couldn’t see the
                     North Downs anymore

                like the childhood realisation
                that all adults have a job in life

 

 

 

————w(O)rmholes________________________________|—–

air & realisation wormhole: Tulips by Sylvia Plath – How Far To Step Before You Raise The Other Foot
blue wormhole: a cup of tea, gov
childhood & rooftops & sky wormhole: 1964
clouds wormhole: sunny morning
Crowborough wormhole: cold wind
life wormhole: tag cloud poem VII – form new freedom:
shadow wormhole: Bat-Shadow
streets wormhole: letters to Mum V – carrying on in duty and love
town wormhole: deeper

 

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cold wind

11 Friday Jul 2014

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

'scape, 2013, 4*, car park, cars, Crowborough, green, iron, leaf, rust, seeing, town, wind

 

 

 

                                   what
                                   is there
                                   to see in a
                                   small town
                                   back street car
                                   park before a bolted
                                   galvanised railing with
                                   rust just breaking through
                                   behind the smooth bottle-green lines
                                   of a Volvo

                                                     but between
                                   the single curled leaf of a
                                   weed shaking in the cold wind

 

 

 

————w(O)rmholes________________________________|—–

cars wormhole: open window
Crowborough wormhole: tag cloud poem IV – C
green & wind wormhole: on sitting / in front of / a hedge
seeing wormhole: ‘I can hear it raining / but cannot see it …’

 

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tag cloud poem IV – C

14 Friday Mar 2014

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

2014, being, birds, blue, career, Carol, cars, Castleton, cat, child, childhood, city, clouds, coffee shop, combe end, comics, communication, compassion, compromise, conservatory, crane, Crowborough, curtains, doing, evening, Germany, hills, house, hyperbole, Jon, life, mauve, olive, purple, sound, Spring, stone, streets, summer, sun, tag cloud poem, time, town, traffic

 

 

 

C is gridlocked in a
career of her own driving
stuck like so many cars winding their way through small hill-town high streets
            (Castleton in the summer where
             everybody wants their Blue John stone
             to remember that they have seen the hills)

                                                      … but a cat
            is always a pet and will search for the warmest spot in a house
and a pet is always a child searching for the evidence that they exist
                           and a child can only belong to a childhood
                                          already passed

                                          the city
            stays where it is – high and low – the
            clouds pass behind – fast and slow – the
            coffee shop ‘chinks’ and clutters all day
the curtains are drawn all up combe end in the evening in the suburbs

                           even in the city of comics
            the streets are mauve and purple (where the traffic makes the facades dirty oliveblue)
            where communication is declarative and desperate and
            compassion is hyperbolic and demonstrable
but the compromise must ever be invisible and unnoticed otherwise
            everything grinds to the self-conscious stop
                                          that ‘we built this city …’ to escape

            here in the conservatory
she lays in her favourite place and looks for a message from the son that moved to Germany
            the first of the Spring sun brings the reply like a silent crane
                           birds busily network all over Crowborough
                                         we have no curtains to draw here

 

 

 

————w(O)rmholes________________________________|—–

being wormhole: no quota too empty / no fate to fulfil
birds wormhole: tag cloud poem III – the journey to BEING and back again
blue & childhood & life & time wormhole: time
C wormhole: dream 040198 / Eglinton Hill
career wormhole: that’s me / in the corner that’s me in the spot light / losing my religion*
cars wormhole: 1963
Castleton wormhole: let
cat wormhole: existence
child wormhole: Beresford Square: // it’s alright it’s alright
city wormhole: Knapps
clouds wormhole: red net curtains / with appliqué blooms
coffee shop wormhole: tired
combe end & evening & house wormhole: star / through the kitchen / window
comics & sound wormhole: the sounds the difficulty and the long long strands of liquorice
communication wormhole: the Lamp
compassion wormhole: tag cloud poem II – acceptance
compromise wormhole: The Future of Teaching: performance or capability (‘oh, not ‘teaching’ then?’)
conservatory wormhole: across the room / through the patio doors / through the conservatory windows / at the bottom of the garden / the still bifurcated trunk of / the oak / before the let-grown hair and fringes / of the fir tree / blown every lifetime in a while by the winter sun // actually
crane wormhole: 1996 dream
Crowborough wormhole: the sun / in a clean / industrial / sky
curtains wormhole: rear attic / bedroom
doing & hills & streets wormhole: the edges of my reach
Jon wormhole: losing the anxiety
mauve wormhole: mlewisredford introductory complete life audit confessional
olive wormhole: still there?
purple wormhole: the strange mauve relief of / this burgundy-gritty encounter
Spring wormhole: coffee shop
stone wormhole: all the while / the flagpole rope / occasionally flaps / the breeze
sun wormhole: 25% scaffolding & rope
tag cloud poem wormhole: tag cloud poem III – the journey to BEING and back again

 

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the sun / in a clean / industrial / sky

30 Tuesday Jul 2013

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

'scape, 2011, 5*, cars, crane, Crowborough, hills, leaves, sky, sun, walls, wind, winter

 

 

 

                                                                 the sun
                                                               in a clean
                                                               industrial
                                                                    sky

                                bags out
                                too cold
                                in trolley
                                car locked
                                bright sun
                                turn wind
                                leaves wall

                then up on the hill the crane
                swings its arm wide wide across the town

 

 

 

————w(O)rmholes________________________________|—–

crane wormhole: Woolwich Central – / making life better
Crowborough wormhole: once
hills wormhole: Eglinton Hill
leaves wormhole: from the / bedroom / window
sky wormhole: afternoon 290613
sun wormhole: out!
walls wormhole: thar she perched
wind wormhole: the pleasant land / of counterpane
winter wormhole: Saturday / afternoon

 

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once

01 Friday Jun 2012

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

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Tags

'scape, 2010, 4*, blue, clouds, Crowborough, girl, grey, leaves, mother, muse, sky, wind

 

 

 

                                   the girl
                                   lifted
                           stands on the
                           trolley seat
                           steps up to the
                           handrail to her
                           mother’s arms

                           steel blue to the right
                           scuddy grey to the left
                           the wind blows the leaves
                                   once

 

 

 

————w(O)rmholes________________________________|—–

blue sky wormhole: until
clouds wormhole: ‘the old / Lotus Elan …’
Crowborough wormhole: ‘teeth pulled …’
girl & muse wormhole: one
grey wormhole: 1961 – Marilyn
leaves wormhole: 1976
mother wormhole: Seaford / 280310
sky wormhole: 1958
wind wormhole: all the time

 

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‘teeth pulled …’

23 Wednesday May 2012

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

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Tags

'scape, 2010, 4*, Crowborough, eyes, identity

 

 

 

                                   teeth pulled
                                   and picked at the
                                   hygienist’s

                                   staring at the light
                                   two lightly made-up
                                   eyes and a fringe stared
                                   past me into
                                   my mouth

 

 

 

————w(O)rmholes________________________________|—–
Crowborough wormhole: single fat cherry
eyes wormhole: ‘big cheeky smile …’
identity wormhole: seeing

 

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single fat cherry

23 Wednesday May 2012

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

'scape, 2010, 4*, cherry, copper beech, Crowborough, walking, Zen

 

 

 

                                all Zen-like
                                I approached the
                                young copper beech
                                by the supermarket – c’mon
                                              snap out of it! –
                                looking down someone
                                had dropped a
                                single fat cherry
                                on the steps

 

 

 

Crowborough wormhole: ‘indicating …’
walking wormhole: ‘a tree …’

 

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‘indicating …’

16 Wednesday May 2012

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

'scape, 2009, 3*, amber, cars, cigarette, Crowborough, passing, silver

 

 

 

            indicating

            the really
            big silver
            four-wheel drive
            pulled out

            frowning
            the driver
            drew on his
            cigarette
            and exhaled
            as he changed gear
            the smoke
            travelled along
            in front of his face

 

 

 

————w(O)rmholes________________________________|—–

cars wormhole: ‘at the top of the road …’
Crowborough wormhole: ‘small town busy …’
passing wormhole: ‘with delight …’
silver wormhole: late morning / Saturday

 

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← Older posts

… Mark; remember …

"... the impulse to keep to yourself what you have learned is not only shameful; it is destructive. Anything you do not give freely and abundantly becomes lost to you. You open your safe to find ashes." ~ Annie Dillard

pages coagulating like yogurt

  • Bodhisattvacharyavatara
    • Chapter 1
    • Chapter 10
    • Chapter 2
    • Chapter 3
    • Chapter 4
    • Chapter 5
    • Chapter 6
    • Chapter 7
    • Chapter 8
    • Chapter 9
    • Introduction
  • collected works
    • 25th August 1981 – count Up
    • askance From Hell
    • Batman
    • Bob 1995-2012
    • David Bowie Movements in Suite Major
    • Edward Hopper: Poems at an Exhibition
    • Eglinton Hill
    • FLOORBOARDS
    • Granada
    • in and out / the Avebury stones / can’t seem to get / a signal …
    • Lapping Reflections [Deep Within Waters]
    • Miller’s Batman
    • mum
    • nan
    • Portsmouth – Southsea
    • Spring Warwick breezes / over Bacharach fieldwork and boroughs with / the occasional shift and chirp of David / in the pastel-long morning of the sixties
    • The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J. Redford
    • through the crash
  • index
    • #A-E see!
    • F–K, wha’ th’
    • L-P 33 1/3 rpm
    • Q-T pie
    • U-Z together forever
  • me
  • others
  • poemics
  • poeviews
  • teaching matters
  • William Carlos Williams
  • wormholes

recent leaks …

  • “…and may the great elements…”
  • paisley // implicitly
  • this pocketed being
  • the inevitable tock // when we close our eyes
  • time
  • the simple prayer // the tattered poem // the bitter lament
  • taking birth
  • mirror
  • long / road
  • ‘in my car I pass…’

Uncanny Tops

  • me
  • Moebius strip
  • YOUNG WOMAN AT A WINDOW by William Carlos Williams
  • 'in my car I pass...'
  • 'the practice ...'
  • 'I can write ...'
  • like butterflies on / buddleia
  • meanwhile
  • 'hello old friend ...'
  • under the blue and blue sky

category sky

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tag skyline

'scape 2* 3* 4* 5* 6* 7* 8* 20th century 1967 1979 1980 2008 2009 2010 2011 2012 2013 2014 2015 2016 2017 2018 2019 acceptance afternoon air Allen Ginsberg anxiety architecture arm in arm attention awareness Batman beach beauty bedroom being birds birdsong black blue Bodhisattvacharyavatara books Bowie branches breakdown breathing breeze brown Buddha buildings career Carol cars change child childhood children city clouds coffee shop colour combe end comics communication compassion compromise crane creativity curtains dancing dark death distraction divorce doing doors dream Dr Strange earth echo Edward Hopper Eglinton Hill emergence emptiness evening eyes faces family father feet field floorboards garden Genesta Road girl giving glass gold grass green grey growth haiku hair hands Have hedge hill hills history holiday hope horizon house houses identity kitchen leaf leaves lemon letting go life lifetimes light lime listening living London looking lost love management managerialism mauve meaning mind mist moon morning mother mouth movement Mum muse music night notice open openness orange others park passing pavement people performance management pink Plumstead poetry pointlessness politics portrait posture power practice professionalism purple purpose quiet rain reaching reading realisation reality red requires chewing river roads roof rooftops samsara sea searching seeing settling shadow shops silence silhouette silver sitting sky skyline sleep smell smile snow society sound space speech step stone streetlight streets sun sunlight superhero table talking talking to myself teaching teaching craft Thames thinking thought time train travelling trees true nature university voices walking walls water waves white William Carlos Williams wind windows wood Woolwich words work world writing years yellow zazen

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