Jonathan Beale

Fünf englische Gedichte

 

 

 

Where the Harlequins dance

after Jean Miro

 

Here in this side shot: this geometric view

What a vison from every perspective in one.

This firework psychology: the sky is dreamt 

And it is superficial magical and organic.

 

The inevitability of moon is the sun -

Paris’ judgement is ultimately judged by the masses

No one is not included -

“look, look, see how they dance”

 

Music blends among the bodies: they of the

Passionate reds and mandarin blues

Space for both, the starfish lovers waiting,

Just waiting to find each other.

 

The stone of the foundations upon which they dance

In this freest of state’s – breaking: breaking.

The ladder,  Jacobs perhaps.

Each point hovers along: or up-or-down.

 

Spinning, they cannot fail – laughter’s spindle

Touches all….

Music – see how the chords & sharps:-

Lick each and every ear drums charm.

 

The nights eternity, drinks us all in….

They cannot tire – they cannot forget

The harlequins carnival breathe

Life into all who come.

 

They spare their joy – the lost rules

Forgotten – they dance…on and on….    

The side shot: this geometric biological

Vison from every perspective.

 

 

 

Leaving the sunnier climes  

 

On this side of reason the days sun projects.

Books still ruminate in their heads - for a while

Could Shakespeare have devised such a plot?

Of course, nothing else here has ever been seen before.

 

Now just ended, some still chasing their tails

And others, chasing others’ tails perhaps.

Some guys get back still with their beer

And play the safer less interesting game.

 

Crushed beneath the olived Spanish air

The crickets – too, need reprieve.

No space left unfulfilled – in this lost void.

Preliminary talk to build and meet.

 

A coach brings the next collective, as cattle, the air

Still heavy.  Another falls before the detritus of tomorrow. 

 

 

 

The unwanted and the unwashed

 

We passed by along all worlds

Blindly fumbling.

We discussed our world

As citizens of the kinder Fates.

 

We dived in: talk of books, films, TV, news

And jokes we’d heard – from each of our realms

Somehow making new boundaries.

 

These and other worlds - clash - collide

New countries – other places.  

 

Across the Bullring we see

The Children of an Apathetic God.

 

Strangely blind

“there” is an eye watching

“these” are where you find the...

 

“The unwanted and the unwashed.”

“The unwanted and the unwashed.”

 

They have their home - their spaces

The world secretly loves them back

Although, it forgets sometimes.

With its freezing bitter mornings. 

 

 

 

Behind the mirrored glass.

 

Sunglassed: watching 

Blindly behind their

Hide – there is no

Hiding place – none

 

Just the heat and

The rat-tat-tat-tat

Muse along the

meandering river

 

before it cascades

down the thin red line

that divides the hidden

and the overt.

 

 

 

To a New Born

 

‘I am not yet born; O hear me.
Let not the bloodsucking bat or the rat or the stoat or the
club-footed ghoul come near me.’   Louis MacNiece

 

Thoughts alone in darkness.

The question is, why are we here, you’d think?

Why are we here what have we done to be here?

What will we do, and why, or why not, - If the Dane spoke true.

What will we do – in this growth of complexities, is thus.

That the cells grow divide and multiply like divers cutting the air.

Becoming one in a beauty of self and the id

 

This is “the” to come another linage

To: A name an epithet to grow into

To become: a day, date, and time.

The people you share this earth with

Will grow and grow and grow grey

As soon as growth becomes whole.

 

“You.”

 

Life is before you –

Open, the empty vessel

That will fill every time

The infinite moment

With life’s experience

Joy and want

 

The wind will pass

Around you

Learn to bend and not break

Root yourself

In the truth and you will find

And only you can grow to

Complete yourself. 

 

 

 

Jonathan Beale has many poems published in such journals as: Decanto,  Penwood Review,  The Screech Owl, Danse Macabre, Danse Macabre du Jour, Poetic Diversity, Voices of Israel in English, Miracle-E-zine,  Voices of Hellenism Literary Journal, The Journal, Ink Sweat & Tears, Down in the Dirt, The English Chicago Review, Mad Swirl, Poetry Cornwall, Leaves of Ink, Ariadne’s Thread, Bijou Poetry Review, Calvary Cross, Deadsnakes Review, The Bitchin Kitsch, Poetry by Birkbeck alumnus, The Dawntreader, I am not a Silent Poet, Pyrokinection, Festival of Language, Festivalwriter, ‘Don’t Be Afraid: An Anthology to Seamus Heaney’, Ygdrasil, The Four Seasons Anthology, The Seventh Quarry, Van Gogh’s Ear Anthology, The Curly Mind, The Beatnik Cowboy, Dali’s LoveChild, Storm Cycle Anthology (Best of Hurricane Press 2015), Poems and Poetry, The Jawline Review, Bluepepper, Jellyfish Whispers, The Outsider, Yellow Mama, In Between Hangovers, Your One Phone Call, Red River Review, Anti Heroin Chic Dissident Voices and Red Fez.

 

He was commended in Decanto’s and Café writers Poetry Competitions 2012. His work has appeared in such books as ‘Drowning’ (Scar publications) and ‘The Poet as Sociopath’ (Scar publications). He is currently working on his second volume.

 

His first collection of poetry The Destinations of Raxiera is published by Hammer & Anvil Books.

 

He studied philosophy at Birkbeck College London and lives in Surrey England.