For ~moyanII's visual poetry contest.

The notebook on the right lives in my camera bag and is the one that sees the most use. It's been used variously for writing down poems and haiku, phone numbers, ideas and as a journal. Most of the stuff in here has either been written against my knee, on a coach, held up in the air or against a tree or wall, hence the untidy scrawl.

On the left hand page is something I started and then abandoned after reading John Masefield's Saltwater Ballads -

We're fifty leagues from the arse-end of nowhere
With the salt sea rime in my hair
And the cruel wind that blows, I feel in my bones
As it sings through the rigging and moans

On the right hand page are a series of haiku that were written while walking the moors in Northumberland.

you'll not catch
those chickens
belled kitten

walking miles
yet dinner seems
further away

at High Force
the quiet Tees
roars

below
in the mineshaft
water entices

even the dog
silenced
by the waterfall

across the fells
long faced sheep follow
peat darkened burns

wet floor -
a warning
or instruction?

the roman milefort
garrisoned now
by cows

The notebook on the left, is the one I leave in my desk at work for writing things down when inspiration strikes, or I'm bored. Thus, it tends to be much neater and gets doodled on too. The words here are -

24th September : It's been three days since we sent Dave into the air conditioning ducts. Perhaps the rumours of them being infested by crocodiles were true.

evening shadows
cloaking straw bales
one by one

a warm night
of wandering moths
and I, the moon

she flashes me
but only for
a speedtrap

With his pork pie hat and jaunty cane
The death song poet waltzed down the lane
Heading down to Rumfold Fair
They always die in October there

Tired, so tired - My god, what have I got on my Ipod?

I never said it would make any sense...