DANCING YETI BOOKS
Poems, Thoughts and Stories, to Read and Hear
Poetry Books
Featured Book:
the Kiss of life
This is much my most comprehensive book of poetry, and if you are thinking of buying just one of my books, it is this one I’d recommend because many of my best works are here.
But any reader wanting to go from cover to cover would set out on quite a voyage, because it includes many long poems, which might wear you out before you get to the shorter lighter ones deliberately interleaved to bring a quick smile before you reach for another glass of wine or a cuppa.
There are really too many poems here, but I hate those poem books which cost just as much, with only eighty pages, and a load of white space. Therefore I want to offer good value, but overdo it, because there’s enough here for three books. So please take your time and jump about, for thus it will be easier to digest and enjoy.
Where To Buy
The Kiss of Life
Invocation
The muse comes crashing through my door,
with boobs so full of images and rhymes
they soon may lose the fight to keep
her thumping heart inside.
“Get off your arse!” she screams,
while grabbing in her fists
the chatter from my radio, to twist
it into plaits to swing around her head
until she lets them go,
like slung-shot snooker balls, to boing
from side to side between
the unseen walls that try
to make the universe
stop jumping from the sky.
She sucks up every perfume found in space
and blasts them in my face, to shake
my lazy senses wide awake.
But can she break
the pile of rocks that blocks my brains,
to liberate the demons of my mind
and let them riot out and ride
to all the wild scenes she loves
where masterpieces hide,
and all the strength of me
must be entwined
to haul them by the souls
till they come bursting up, to bare
their perfect faces to the eyes.
I pray for magic cauldrons
where the liquids sing and shout
while all I need to be is fingers round a pen
to give the only gift I’m fit to give.
Perhaps I can.
————————–
The Kiss of Life
The kiss of Life
refuses all delay,
and tears apart
the packaging
which shields our lives,
in untamed haste to be
united with the I
behind the eye
that makes the earth and sky
the gateway to the next
unveiling gasp of breath.
So fill me, Life,
because I have no time
to wait for anything,
not even ‘Now’,
because it’s running
out the door & gone.
Just kiss me with your lips
and I am born.
………………………………….
The Palette Lives
The sun unsets
and colours run
down from the sky,
to change to fire,
water, and ignite
the slender arms of pines,
While faces, in its warmth,
transform to canvasses
that tempt the artist
to experiment, and find
new colours, yet unborn.
His brush gets busy,
touching up and stirring
out of sleep the dreams
displaced from night,
that splash like mermaids
through the rings
of lobster light, to sing
their tribute to the day.
The sun, that soon may rise,
is whisked with bits of cloud
into an omelette mix, and now
the cock a doodle sings, to say,
it’s time again to take your part
on stage, and act the play.
Dedication:
To One Who Gave Life A Long Kiss
One day, we’d just climbed out of the swimming pool, in the Lucknow forest, when we noticed a young Indian man was floating in the water, face-down .
So we pulled him out, and while our other friends backed off in horror, Keith surprised me by starting to give the ‘kiss of life’, and told me quickly how to pump the chest, to start the heart.
In the Indian sun, the body felt cold and slimy from the water. When we started work, a load of vomit came between the mouth to mouth, which would have driven me off the job, but Keith just spat sideways and continued.
So we worked on, getting more tired and sad at the lack of response, until we realised twenty minutes had passed and we had to stop, for the heart would not start. All the hope of youth had gone forever from this cold flesh .
We felt sorry we’d failed in this job, but I found I could not mourn for this unknown being, whose empty body had been left in our hands; though I felt sorry for the friends and family I’d never meet.
But we were alive and needed to clean off our sweat and re-connect with life, so we jumped back in the pool and had a swim; for the water that had drowned him was only water and carried no guilt.
And thus, so many years later, the determination and care that he showed that day, have come back to my mind. So here is my ode to Keith Nightingale and this book is dedicated to him.
Other Books
Is
Eodem tempore Serenianus ex duce, cuius ignavia populatam in Phoenice Celsen ante rettulimus, pulsatae maiestatis imperii reus iure postulatus ac lege, incertum qua potuit suffragatione absolvi, aperte convictus familiarem suum cum pileo, quo caput operiebat, incantato vetitis artibus ad templum misisse fatidicum, quaeritatum expresse an ei firmum portenderetur imperium, ut cupiebat, et cunctum.
Haec igitur prima lex amicitiae sanciatur, ut ab amicis honesta petamus, amicorum causa honesta faciamus, ne exspectemus quidem, dum rogemur; studium semper adsit, cunctatio absit; consilium vero dare audeamus libere. Plurimum in amicitia amicorum bene suadentium valeat auctoritas, eaque et adhibeatur ad monendum non modo aperte sed etiam acriter, si res postulabit, et adhibitae pareatur.
Eodem tempore Serenianus ex duce, cuius ignavia populatam in Phoenice Celsen ante rettulimus, pulsatae maiestatis imperii reus iure postulatus ac lege, incertum qua potuit suffragatione absolvi, aperte convictus familiarem suum cum pileo, quo caput operiebat, incantato vetitis artibus ad templum misisse fatidicum, quaeritatum expresse an ei firmum portenderetur imperium, ut cupiebat, et cunctum.
Haec igitur prima lex amicitiae sanciatur, ut ab amicis honesta petamus, amicorum causa honesta faciamus, ne exspectemus quidem, dum rogemur; studium semper adsit, cunctatio absit; consilium vero dare audeamus libere. Plurimum in amicitia amicorum bene suadentium valeat auctoritas, eaque et adhibeatur ad monendum non modo aperte sed etiam acriter, si res postulabit, et adhibitae pareatur.
Where To Buy
More about Is
Eodem tempore Serenianus ex duce, cuius ignavia populatam in Phoenice Celsen ante rettulimus, pulsatae maiestatis imperii reus iure postulatus ac lege, incertum qua potuit suffragatione absolvi, aperte convictus familiarem suum cum pileo, quo caput operiebat, incantato vetitis artibus ad templum misisse fatidicum, quaeritatum expresse an ei firmum portenderetur imperium, ut cupiebat, et cunctum.
Haec igitur prima lex amicitiae sanciatur, ut ab amicis honesta petamus, amicorum causa honesta faciamus, ne exspectemus quidem, dum rogemur; studium semper adsit, cunctatio absit; consilium vero dare audeamus libere. Plurimum in amicitia amicorum bene suadentium valeat auctoritas, eaque et adhibeatur ad monendum non modo aperte sed etiam acriter, si res postulabit, et adhibitae pareatur.
Haec igitur prima lex amicitiae sanciatur, ut ab amicis honesta petamus, amicorum causa honesta faciamus, ne exspectemus quidem, dum rogemur; studium semper adsit, cunctatio absit; consilium vero dare audeamus libere. Plurimum in amicitia amicorum bene suadentium valeat auctoritas, eaque et adhibeatur ad monendum non modo aperte sed etiam acriter, si res postulabit, et adhibitae pareatur.
Is
Invocation
The muse comes crashing through my door,
with boobs so full of images and rhymes
they soon may lose the fight to keep
her thumping heart inside.
“Get off your arse!” she screams,
while grabbing in her fists
the chatter from my radio, to twist
it into plaits to swing around her head
until she lets them go,
like slung-shot snooker balls, to boing
from side to side between
the unseen walls that try
to make the universe
stop jumping from the sky.
She sucks up every perfume found in space
and blasts them in my face, to shake
my lazy senses wide awake.
But can she break
the pile of rocks that blocks my brains,
to liberate the demons of my mind
and let them riot out and ride
to all the wild scenes she loves
where masterpieces hide,
and all the strength of me
must be entwined
to haul them by the souls
till they come bursting up, to bare
their perfect faces to the eyes.
I pray for magic cauldrons
where the liquids sing and shout
while all I need to be is fingers round a pen
to give the only gift I’m fit to give.
Perhaps I can.
————————–
The Kiss of Life
The kiss of Life
refuses all delay,
and tears apart
the packaging
which shields our lives,
in untamed haste to be
united with the I
behind the eye
that makes the earth and sky
the gateway to the next
unveiling gasp of breath.
So fill me, Life,
because I have no time
to wait for anything,
not even ‘Now’,
because it’s running
out the door & gone.
Just kiss me with your lips
and I am born.
………………………………….
The Palette Lives
The sun unsets
and colours run
down from the sky,
to change to fire,
water, and ignite
the slender arms of pines,
While faces, in its warmth,
transform to canvasses
that tempt the artist
to experiment, and find
new colours, yet unborn.
His brush gets busy,
touching up and stirring
out of sleep the dreams
displaced from night,
that splash like mermaids
through the rings
of lobster light, to sing
their tribute to the day.
The sun, that soon may rise,
is whisked with bits of cloud
into an omelette mix, and now
the cock a doodle sings, to say,
it’s time again to take your part
on stage, and act the play.
A Voyage in Myself
Eodem tempore Serenianus ex duce, cuius ignavia populatam in Phoenice Celsen ante rettulimus, pulsatae maiestatis imperii reus iure postulatus ac lege, incertum qua potuit suffragatione absolvi, aperte convictus familiarem suum cum pileo, quo caput operiebat, incantato vetitis artibus ad templum misisse fatidicum, quaeritatum expresse an ei firmum portenderetur imperium, ut cupiebat, et cunctum.
Haec igitur prima lex amicitiae sanciatur, ut ab amicis honesta petamus, amicorum causa honesta faciamus, ne exspectemus quidem, dum rogemur; studium semper adsit, cunctatio absit; consilium vero dare audeamus libere. Plurimum in amicitia amicorum bene suadentium valeat auctoritas, eaque et adhibeatur ad monendum non modo aperte sed etiam acriter, si res postulabit, et adhibitae pareatur.
Eodem tempore Serenianus ex duce, cuius ignavia populatam in Phoenice Celsen ante rettulimus, pulsatae maiestatis imperii reus iure postulatus ac lege, incertum qua potuit suffragatione absolvi, aperte convictus familiarem suum cum pileo, quo caput operiebat, incantato vetitis artibus ad templum misisse fatidicum, quaeritatum expresse an ei firmum portenderetur imperium, ut cupiebat, et cunctum.
Haec igitur prima lex amicitiae sanciatur, ut ab amicis honesta petamus, amicorum causa honesta faciamus, ne exspectemus quidem, dum rogemur; studium semper adsit, cunctatio absit; consilium vero dare audeamus libere. Plurimum in amicitia amicorum bene suadentium valeat auctoritas, eaque et adhibeatur ad monendum non modo aperte sed etiam acriter, si res postulabit, et adhibitae pareatur.
More about A voyage in Myself
Eodem tempore Serenianus ex duce, cuius ignavia populatam in Phoenice Celsen ante rettulimus, pulsatae maiestatis imperii reus iure postulatus ac lege, incertum qua potuit suffragatione absolvi, aperte convictus familiarem suum cum pileo, quo caput operiebat, incantato vetitis artibus ad templum misisse fatidicum, quaeritatum expresse an ei firmum portenderetur imperium, ut cupiebat, et cunctum.
Haec igitur prima lex amicitiae sanciatur, ut ab amicis honesta petamus, amicorum causa honesta faciamus, ne exspectemus quidem, dum rogemur; studium semper adsit, cunctatio absit; consilium vero dare audeamus libere. Plurimum in amicitia amicorum bene suadentium valeat auctoritas, eaque et adhibeatur ad monendum non modo aperte sed etiam acriter, si res postulabit, et adhibitae pareatur.
Where To Buy
A Voyage in Myself
Invocation
The muse comes crashing through my door,
with boobs so full of images and rhymes
they soon may lose the fight to keep
her thumping heart inside.
“Get off your arse!” she screams,
while grabbing in her fists
the chatter from my radio, to twist
it into plaits to swing around her head
until she lets them go,
like slung-shot snooker balls, to boing
from side to side between
the unseen walls that try
to make the universe
stop jumping from the sky.
She sucks up every perfume found in space
and blasts them in my face, to shake
my lazy senses wide awake.
But can she break
the pile of rocks that blocks my brains,
to liberate the demons of my mind
and let them riot out and ride
to all the wild scenes she loves
where masterpieces hide,
and all the strength of me
must be entwined
to haul them by the souls
till they come bursting up, to bare
their perfect faces to the eyes.
I pray for magic cauldrons
where the liquids sing and shout
while all I need to be is fingers round a pen
to give the only gift I’m fit to give.
Perhaps I can.
————————–
The Kiss of Life
The kiss of Life
refuses all delay,
and tears apart
the packaging
which shields our lives,
in untamed haste to be
united with the I
behind the eye
that makes the earth and sky
the gateway to the next
unveiling gasp of breath.
So fill me, Life,
because I have no time
to wait for anything,
not even ‘Now’,
because it’s running
out the door & gone.
Just kiss me with your lips
and I am born.
………………………………….
The Palette Lives
The sun unsets
and colours run
down from the sky,
to change to fire,
water, and ignite
the slender arms of pines,
While faces, in its warmth,
transform to canvasses
that tempt the artist
to experiment, and find
new colours, yet unborn.
His brush gets busy,
touching up and stirring
out of sleep the dreams
displaced from night,
that splash like mermaids
through the rings
of lobster light, to sing
their tribute to the day.
The sun, that soon may rise,
is whisked with bits of cloud
into an omelette mix, and now
the cock a doodle sings, to say,
it’s time again to take your part
on stage, and act the play.
