Halloween

All Hallows Eve tonight.
Sinister characters lurk
In the gathering dusk.
Souls of old abroad
For one long night.

Behind the revelry
The spirits roam free.
Behind the yell and scare
They are really there.

Listen to the howls
Watch the shadows.
All the lost souls
Are now at large.

Icy chill in shadow
Pathways to the dead
Briefly open for instant
Migration. Cold sweat,
Shiver, hairs on end.

Do not swiftly dismiss
The real ghouls
In this scary night.

Martin Delemare
31st October 2007

Cueva del Agua

Warm wind dies as we enter wood
Heat builds in clothes designed for cold.
Grubby arms of suit tied round middle.
Trees stand tall, spiky firs
Broad leaved trees hang low.

Entrance, large gash that swallows
The wide rushing river, darkness,
Inside is gloom. Slowly we see.
Trees whole trees jammed across
Passage wide. Up we climb
High towards the lofty room
Before careful descent on other side.

Waterfall plunges to long narrow lake.
No footholds to be seen. No obvious
Way on. What the hell! Jump.
We’ll sort the problem later.
Carbide flares as water pressure
Pushes acetylene to the jet.
Brightly illuminated
Narrow swimming pool.
All to ourselves; exclusive.

Martin Delemare
6th July 2005

The Kill

Loud squawking, flying low.
Raptor looks down in distain
Laboured flight from heavy pay
Talons death gripped tight again.
Dead but not yet dead
Ambushed bird twists its head
And shrieks and squawks
Buzzard’s determined journey veers
Out to sea and away to
Some charnel post on high
Where in deadly purpose acts
Out the ritual slaughter and
Devours the wretched gull
Stark contrast of scarlet blood
On white feathers to mark the spot.

Martin Delemare

4th June 2006

Out to Suzhou

We must be off, we must go
On the big plane out to Suzhou.
The busy, bustling streets so far.
The bicycle, bus, scooter and car
All meet at the count-down light.
You never heard such sound or saw such sight.
We must be off, we must go
Out on the big plane to Suzhou
To sit in the Zhazak eating rice and bread
A fascinating place when all is done and said.
Sitting in the tea house sampling the ware
Spend afternoon sipping brews without a care.
We must be off, we must go
On the big plane out to Suzhou.

Martin Delemare
2nd March 2007

Gift

We have waited many years for this.
Oh the days and months and years.
Decades down the ages, up till now.

Then one day out of the blue it was.
A gift from God, manna from Heaven.
Drifted in all silent like a briny ghost.

We be patient, but not so very slow.
‘Tis all hands now, all hands down
Down to the beach; the pickings.

Rich pickings bobbing on the waves.
Containers laden down with booty.
So come grab your fill and more.

Load up the bags, fill up your car.
Drag it right up the pebbly beach.
In hands and under arms, gather up.

We cared not for the government
Men of old, nor do we now care
For the receivers, salvage lackeys.

Way back when we were wreckers.
Way back we lured them into rocks.
Way back we took our spoils, as now.

Martin Delemare
23rd January 2007

Can I Have a Word?

Can I have a word?
Not of course right now
But on Monday morning
That way you will think
About what? Why? and how?
All weekend to worry
All weekend to suffer.

Written down is even better
A summons; a sealed letter.
You try to speak that
Friday afternoon but no
No chance of a hearing
You too will wait and yet
It’s two days to worry and fret.

Martin Delemare
22nd February 2006