#2311 -- only slightly briefly here

 

2311

7.118

29.iv.26

only slightly briefly here

 

have you seen how the sky

is falling away

it falls up

 

the tree as curious, inscribed

wants another world

 

all other sorts of lines

and a splash

 

have you noticed a moon’s made off

better be dead elsewhere, moon thinks

 

I feel it too

the day gone out of my head

 

revolving like the bricks there

climbing as if a wall

 

imagine heavens or none

 

only ever partly me

a strange religious garb

 

voice thrown

free of days

imagine!

 

minded else and always

 

shadow on a rock, tin bird

 

we are surviving by way of amazement

 

we’re all so far gone

#2310 -- my loose wire

 

 

2310

7.117

28.iv.26

my loose wire

 

you could call it a kind of antenna

sensitive as twitch

 

will we test it?

 

a crimp and twang

 

you must imagine

one to another connects

 

my loose wire harnesses bright light

 

it sets apart

not all are so equipped

 

for tragedy, for triumph

 

speak of it lightly as if

 

conducts in a bucket with salt

 

nothing magnetic but attaches

 

a string tuned to some other world

 

hook up here

some solder

 

it’s live, we’re in real time

 

look at a number and wonder which

 

a tether end rescue

it’s to thrill

 

friends haul me out

 

tune in!

#2309 -- in places we forbid ourselves

 

2309

7.116

27.iv.26

in places we forbid ourselves

 

the moon without a suit

 

no void for me

 

midden deep by mind’s eye

 

a king within a queen

 

lords leap

 

can I be the blood

but not

 

how can I be in a body? 

 

can this be someone else?

and such a day as

burrow, hutch, forebear

 

to hammock a question

take my time to tell

 

fog up and here we’re bitten

out of pants and onto glory

 

I cannot inhabit this moment forever

 

cannot sit upon a star

 

though wish the book up bright

                  and sing

 

far up a tree

 

may I then live in the words on the wall

 

how elsewhere?  how here?

#2308 -- in a lit mist

 

2308

7.115

26.iv.26

in a lit mist

wallaby weather

 

show treetops

cast the eye

 

and there’s a catch of call-it-cloud

with all the sun shone through

 

afoot fresh mown

eyes up

 

it was tide of life

to lift our still

 

out along a limb

abroad

 

fearless as birds

whom the air must catch

 

I’d never call it falling

 

there was a house sat up

a tilt at will

 

the wherewithal so often

 

in all this breathing world

#2307 - when I was a tree

 

2307

7.114

25.iv.26

when I was a tree

 

is it so long since

when you were

 

this was an effortless thing

 

and all the choices of heaven put out

with cloud and falls of leaf

with light

 

when we were seed

and sought a sky

then o then, mindless

upwardly mobile

 

traffic of paw and claw

of up cargoes into night

 

all directional the day

 

much lived in we were

ask the bird

 

as off on a wish, let’s say

 

the world ran shabby round

nor true nor false

but all between

 

rain to jewel tip

if a sun

 

that was when we shone

 

#2306 -- in a mirror meet them

 

2306

7.113

24.iv.26

in a mirror meet them

 

the ones have been

                or could

 

we dive for the depths

by hunch flinch wink

 

cap out of hand

mendicant

 

the young so beautiful we were

lines of age tell all

 

eyes otherworldly

 

there’s a net of light

 

all names abandoned

and the animal too

 

griefly, give grimace

 

consider orientation capacity

 

it is a place of danger

 

in my own voice and elsewhere

 

useless, all that time in the mirror

 

what are we?

glimmer folk?

 

in a mirror we meet

who will you be then?

 

where will I hide my light? 

#2305 - sixteen years

 

2305

7.112

23.iv.26

sixteen years

 

according to my super fund

I have sixteen years

 

it’s not at first obvious

they’re not drawing attention to it

it’s just a flower on the graph

 

time’s brisk!

friends will be dropping like flies

I was relying on them for a funeral

 

I don’t think they want me to notice

it’s a question of calculation, that’s all

 

nothing subjective

 

they take no account of the creature’s habits

nature, of bliss

 

ye know not the hour, nor they

there is no deity does

 

it’s not the me I know they measure

 

why should I worry?

I do

 

sixteen years!

mend bridges, grow another tree

novels, plays, epics to write

have to paint my way out of the maze

spark up

I have a fire to catch

 

it’s not that I had a concrete plan for immortality

it was more in the way of an assumption

lack of a Plan B, you could say

 

corner of the eye thing moves

 

they’re not suggesting religion, health spa

boot camp, meditation

 

next or former lives

 

no midway dark woods

nor letter to post

 

can they even scent my track

see the leaves fall

know this rain

 

and what flower is it?

can you guess?

 

it’s virtual

then let death be

 

I suppose that they ought to know

we bury the treasure here

 

 

 

 

postscript

 

I looked again today

hoping I could grab a graphic

failed

and anyway they’ve changed it

I’ll have to describe it for you

now it’s a heart kind of floating above two open hands

and great news!  they’ve given me a couple of extra years

it’s mysterious … it’s like they’re not superstitious enough to say soul

and anyway there’s no graphic for that

but I see now that those hands are

letting the heart away

and looking again

I suppose the idea is more like that those hands

will catch the falling heart