#476 - lost for words

 

19.iv.21

476

2.79

lost for words

 

for Angie Contini

boot camp for abstraction addicts

 

gone by gumboot

and glory up

despite because for instance

 

cannot be what you wish it means

I say words are weather

 

lost to the tricks of a clock

curly in the queue of

 

choose from a pile

or the wardrobe please

which words to wear

pride or out

 

who can predict?

see through a certain word to truth

 

wild forest still

how far for you?

 

lost in a book is where we are

in the leaves of a tree

in the feathers of flight

lost on country

or in the same page

to what can’t be said

knotty  in the entrails

lacking the expert advice

 

words in the sea between the stars

fixed dictionary thereof

 

some people say my work is busy

 

go among them

terrible in dust

ask of life larger than

fine print!

 

confetti meadow in the mind

champagne days

spring

then bounce along

 

a shouting sky of lower reaches

by leaf and flutter down

 

tongues wag

kingdoms come go

signed sealed

 

the words retrieve us from our foes

and brighten

sometimes you won’t make out

but sometimes it’s back seat in the bush

and octopus out of the car

 

are you the bird as named before?

new ache I’ve yet to feel

and tell the temperature, the time

 

off on a trail of them

 

a forest

so to speak

 

often foxed

some gone to ground

or flown the coop

bolt – make a motza

after them!

 

and spruik the thing

else who’ll know?

 

cut your losses here

spend up

you won’t run out of words

unless you buy that furphy ‘block’

 

dimensions of catastrophe

are always wrought in signs

 

so go for the low notes too

in thicket and thin copse

worm a way with them

be wombat wise

well under

 

words always smell of where they’ve been

and company they keep

then there’s the B-side of a one

the all-year rose

and tell from distance

some things may be said best left

 

finishing touches of a football team

brought to ether by so-called news

 

all mine as much as anyone’s

blessed to be among amid

 

the other day shine

brightly in

or take an angle of the sun

 

you and me under the umbrella tree

but only if you see touch feel

I’d like to call it a journey

 

stuck in your craw

and spit it out

 

through this window

toreador

 

here, tinkering

so shed

 

 

 

(refer back to ‘mere’, early in January)
and now for the purposes of illustration, the abstractions in colour

… note that a changed part of speech won’t count, so for the sake of this illustration, glory in glory up won’t be considered an abstraction because it’s now a verb… and although despite because for instance  are quite abstract, today we’re only counting nouns 

 

lost for words

 

for Angie Contini

boot camp for abstraction addicts

 

gone by gumboot

and glory up

despite because for instance

 

cannot be what you wish it means

I say words are weather

 

lost to the tricks of a clock

curly in the queue of

 

choose from a pile

or the wardrobe please

which words to wear

pride or out

 

who can predict?

see through a certain word to truth

 

wild forest still

how far for you?

 

lost in a book is where we are

in the leaves of a tree

in the feathers of flight

lost on country

or in the same page

to what can’t be said

knotty in the entrails

lacking the expert advice

 

words in the sea between the stars

fixed dictionary thereof

 

some people say my work is busy

 

go among them

terrible in dust

ask of life larger than

fine print!

 

confetti meadow in the mind

champagne days

spring

then bounce along

 

a shouting sky of lower reaches

by leaf and flutter down

 

tongues wag

kingdoms come go

signed sealed

 

the words retrieve us from our foes

and brighten

sometimes you won’t make out

but sometimes it’s back seat in the bush

and octopus out of the car

 

are you the bird as named before?

new ache I’ve yet to feel

and tell the temperature, the time

 

off on a trail of them

 

a forest

so to speak

 

often foxed

some gone to ground

or flown the coop

bolt – make a motza

after them!

 

and spruik the thing

else who’ll know?

 

cut your losses here

spend up

you won’t run out of words

unless you buy that furphy ‘block’

 

dimensions of catastrophe

are always wrought in signs

 

so go for the low notes too

in thicket and thin copse

worm a way with them

be wombat wise

well under

 

words always smell of where they’ve been

and company they keep

then there’s the B-side of a one

the all-year rose

and tell from distance

some things may be said best left

 

finishing touches of a football team

brought to ether by so-called news

 

all mine as much as anyone’s

blessed to be among amid

 

the other day shine

brightly in

or take an angle of the sun

 

you and me under the umbrella tree

but only if you see touch feel

I’d like to call it a journey

 

stuck in your craw

and spit it out

 

through this window

toreador

 

here, tinkering

so shed

 

.

 

Yes, there are some abstractions in here, but I hope that the story leads to them and away so that they are part of the action and not simply sinkholes of nothing to see touch taste hear feel.