Posts Tagged ‘affection’


a lot can be solved
by physical affection
— coming together
in mutually confirmed
blind ignorance of being

There were some terribly difficult dynamics at work, between colleagues, about a year ago. I found one person in particular above all quite problematic to relate to. Last night I dreamed I was with her, and that we were just on the verge of beginning to touch each other in a sexual way. I suppose you could call it flirting. Then I was being like that with a whole series of female colleagues, in the dream. It felt quite liberating. Earlier in my life for decades I was extremely uptight about touching women, whether sexually or just socially embracing. It’s so tempting to imagine I have made ‘progress’ in being more confident now. The dream kind of confirms this point of view. But I wanted to challenge it in the poem.


from nowhere

affection, goodwill,
tolerance and love — these are
essential to life
— ultimate test of human
creativity — find them!

Weird dream in three parts, each part involving a different person. (1) a senior manager at work (2) my stepmother’s mother (long dead) (3) my father. With each of them there was a sense as though I was enjoying a good relationship. This was more of a surprise with my stepmother’s mother, less of a surprise with my father and not really a surprise at all with the senior manager. I was struck, awake, with how tenuous and fragile and limited the goodwill felt, in all three cases. This had partly to do with my apparent deafness. I kept having difficulty hearing what they were saying. I wasn’t sure I really cared. Maybe it was even deliberate. Awake, this led me down some fascinating paths of thought. Where on earth does the quality of goodwill, which is so important, come from? Are we ourselves responsible for generating it singlehandedly? Clearly not. It feels as though it is more of a gift that we can never quite rely on completely. Hugely mysterious. I am quite pleased, in this instance, the poem says it better than I can in prose!


mornings, clear-seeing
through the lens of poetry,
things fall into place

Having forgotten my dreams yesterday morning, there was no poem, and now I’m back in my morning slot again, I think today’s poem must be some kind of ‘glad to be back’ greeting. Lofty was the name of a character in Eastenders when Eastenders started on TV in the mid-eighties. I used to find it a little uncanny that Lofty and me were so similar. Last night in my dream I was arguing passionately that politics must be moral. Hence lofty in the other sense.