Extended Haiku Poem

An image like a vine
carries negativity
from my earth to sky

Rooting me to spot
the greenfly of hope die there
and fall off in clumps

The sound of calling
cancels growth of emotion
empathy regained

I trot to dinner
where the fruits of our labours
drown us in a haze

Falling and climbing
Without making a sound shoots
carry on the breeze

The vine is like that
too using imagery of
amphora to gain

A foothold places
It has never ever been.
Conversation grows

and turns this way then
that like a drunken’s pencil
writes a note to God

‘I love the vine wine,
women and song, family
of grapes such as we

should never be CRUSHED!!
As the bottle falls and SMASHED!!
I fall to the floor

With a groan, Wasted
smashed open like a grape; wine
puddles at my feet

Bacchus! You bastard!
That was a terrible waste…
Was that meant to be?

I stagger to my
feet looking for a seat, a
drink of the vine wine

to reassure me
Everything is alright. I
stagger outside and

See the Vines stretch a-
way and that feeling comes back
You’re nowt but a hack!!

And I see inside
nothing so grand as the vines
or fruitful or wise

Then I hear a voice
‘Andrew, come back inside!’ So
go pretend I’m vine.

Little Fluffy Clouds

Who owns the little fluffy clouds?

Is there a little fluffy cloud inside of me?

Do I do back flips inside my little fluffy cloud?

or does my little fluffy cloud do backflips on me?

When I sleep is my little fluffy cloud in motion?

Or still somewhere between the sky and the sun?

How do I leave my little fluffy cloud? Is there a magic key? Or is my little fluffy cloud a graveyard?

Does my weight get lost in a little fluffy cloud and gravity

take a day off between nine and three?

I forewarn you – little fluffy clouds do not come for free.

My little fluffy cloud is equipped

for hobbies and interests galore but diurnal cycles do not exist on board my little fluffy cloud. There is no time for me any more.

My passport is stamped. Resident in a little fluffy cloud.