#2250 -- around some unnamed cape

 

         

2250

7.57

27.ii.26

around some unnamed cape

ekphrastic for Girolamo Nerli’s 1890 ‘The Voyagers’

 

wrapped almost faceless for the weather

 

angle at the world to come

flimsy rail dividing

 

this sea would fill the frame

 

deck is a mirror awash

 

sea’s higher than the ship

 

but better up here

than rolling bunk blind

 

green gill white knuckle clench either way

 

hard tweed man, long of beard

pockets his watch for safety

who knows what time’s out here?

 

he can remember higher crags

 

delivers the words of solace to

or take them for a mock

 

all this is so’s to be gone

all this is to arrive 

#2249 -- the light is singing

 

2249

7.56

26.ii.26

the light is singing

for the Gore Cove Track Series

 

picture it

tree leaning to assist

 

just a phrase

ledge jutting

 

eyes down too

 

and the fallen

 

all the washed up world

a mangrove creek meet

that’s arriving!

it’s care makes the way

track is a trick of the feet

picture stone for a stillness

voices behind and voices ahead

are we not perching?

ant hollowed

not a breeze to carve

bark, of its own accord

comes down when the yay high sun’s to burn

stumps, fresh shoots

it goes around, but it’s not a clock

there isn’t a wheel

it’s snout along, leash led

that’s the track come after me

 

I make it up as I go

#2248 -- everyone looks down

 

2248

7.55

25.ii.26

everyone looks down

ekphrastic for Marshall Claxton’s 1851 ‘The Dickinson Family’

 

they make of opportunity

a locket, clean hands, the tight cravat

 

little princess coiffed

 

frame gilt

 

so rosy, later patronize

 

they all know who they must be

 

they must never see where they are

#2247 - out in the blue

 

2247

7.54

24.ii.26

out in the blue

for the Gore Cove Track Series

 

a Sunday stillness yet

 

and mossed

 

strew of such marks as if come to question

 

from the far roar

from the low hum

 

summer all year here

 

tripstone leafmat

sun in the ears

 

shadows pass over

cast under

 

cicada for an unseen chorus

 

buttress aerial and adventitious

 

things tenuous and trail off at pace

 

a splash – that’s what?

 

under creek and over cloud

that’s for accusation

 

run dry

 

everything whole here

shown to its height

 

float like a buoy in the midst

 

as if we all here for the vanish

 

then out of the blue

a breeze with my name

 

make traces of things forgotten

traces of things as yet unknown 

 

all some sort of singing

all some kind of dance 

#2264 - desideratum

 

2246

7.53

23.ii.26

desideratum

 

I want a window green to look out

not so fussed what

who’ll say weed?

 

I want the sun to fall

rain spoken

let them sing

 

I want a world come in

or air and mere vacancy

an option on the otherwise

 

insect insectivorous

no law but jungle

no clock but skin

 

a pile of years

and we’re on top

scratch of claw

 

pry beak

up bark up trunk

hold tight

 

it’s been a climb

to get so close

I want clouds for conversation

 

continents of mist at drift

I want a heaven blue

I want to take this time

 

 

 

#2245 -- they are all of them telling me

                                   

2245

7.52

22.ii.26

they are all of them telling me

 

have you sensed the urgency?

 

talking their heads off

 

each distinct as any other

 

the ant uniquely nest minded

 

the birds and the trees have a message for me

 

and sometimes in a voice like mine

 

it is for telling out the darkness

they are bringing on the light

 

a pumpkin speaks to me in vine

 

of course they are from another world

why would they know my name?

 

every word is a world

 

I always will be that thing I am

 

no two leaves the same

 

tread on my own toes

 

I think that what they are saying is

‘not yet’

‘we are still here’

#2244 -- not a bot

 

2244

7.51

21.ii.26

not a bot

(entrapment)

 

it’s only money they want this time

 

eyes in my head

after the dark

they know’s there

they put it

 

here, type this

or if you’re blind

 

it’s the they – this that

where’s trust today?

 

no more than gathered dust

 

it was an institution

 

we leaf out

 

they say it’s the last heatwave of summer

 

like hope

but then fear was our range

 

those were the days

 

it’s just that we’re each a statistical fact

 

I live at the edge of the weather