three little poems

1.Pieces into little pieces

When I was your age, even much older,
the idea of making a larger image
out of small and smaller bits and pieces
was a real stranger to me
and a sort of a nightmare too.
I used to focus on the sample on the box, looking
for colours or a detail that would help me
but my eyes would stay out of focus for a while
and had to close them and open them again
the way you now reboot a computer.

When you, with few wordless effective words,
talked me into making the jigsaw you liked best with you,
I was overwhelmed with fear at first and pleasure later,
when I saw the picture completed. I know it was an easy one
and I was guided by your fresh smart brown eyes, but still
it was a new victory for me over my own self.

Your smiles of satisfactions, the soft yeahs at every
bit sliding back to where they belonged,
had set my eyes free from short focusing,
floating away on to that unfathomable design
that had brought us together, lying on an Irish
countryside timber floor, trying hard to compose
a Winnie the Pooh pastoral scene,






2. Jumpin’ the trampoline

I have honestly tried to write decent poetry
for quite a long time now and whether
I succeded or not, what I do is try to see
the power lying over small, ordinary things.
I had never realized though, until last summer,
as it needs a lot of energy, concentration and
failed attempts to jump on a trampolin as a couple.

On a sunny afternoon I saw, considering
my bad knee and the lack of exercise
how hard it is to find your own rhythm first,
and then tune in with that of the other person,
you, as happy as a pig in shite, with your little age
yet unaware much more than me that in life, with its
ups and downs, you have to follow a rhythm, go by your own verse,
take an eye to the other person’s, so that
someone can follow yours, join in, come up
with ideas and change your life into
something else, well away from what you had
planned or immagined for yourself.

3. Dancing Queen

Your curiosity over my Ipod reminded me
how distant our generations are.
I was hypnotised by a small black record
being swallowed by a flat fat thing
that spitted it out when it finished playing
You are fascinated by my Ipod's wheel
the way it clicks and what you can do
with its blue bars full of names.
Technology nowadays enables you to create
small magics with few simple movements.
This is how I slip my ipod in my back pocket
put one hearing on each, take you up
in my arms and the kitchen
turns into a dance hall.
We know now we can jive, we can have
the sweetest time of our lives
floating, wrapped around each other,
following our soft smiles.