Thursday 31 March 2022

#818 - three poems - first morning of the world, we dream for the gone selves, abandoning the calendar

 



1.iv.22

818

3.91

first morning of the world

 

and god was

if we say

the busy one, the maker

gathering all blue to nest

bolting here there too

somebody had to

 

none knew day’s other parts back then

each new as his her skin

 

but someone thought to sing

then all sorts swam

 

air was

action rudimentary

we would come to flight

 

all innocent, shat the shore

washed away with dreams

 

that’s where we lived and how

all crows’ feet in the clay

nothing written down

 

took wheel to axe

where forest sprang

called it garden then

 

it was all the one day

till we came to the clock

 

and now we’ve come again








we dream for the gone selves we are

 

somewhere in the clock accused

a grasswind

arrived to me

a pointing

 

throw pictures

like the rug seller

fleece to the table

like lanolin

throw them from my head

in pencil, paint, by hand

 

I dreamt that someone was checking my words

often you won’t see the rules

still follow nevertheless

 

the diner with the plots proclaimed

hit men

(wouldn’t want them to know you knew!)

 

next the toff school suburban

vertiginous stairs

come down by railing

don’t look

the long walk home from the shops

not so long since

gutter, kerb

 

streetside., Mayfield, I think

little ornaments of a life

still shelved as if indoors

 

and the sun shone on the washing

it was only a moment though then

 

there were other places, faces

now they too are lost

 

we dream for the selves that are gone

 

 







 

abandoning the calendar

 

well slept

 

in every other year of my life

sky blue and creek roar too

 

there was a language I should be learning

a palette of the breezes

 

for somewhere to go

 

on other days

in other hours

and worded from the world

 

breath by breath

and deep in throes

 

in every other life

I dreamt the world to peace

 

away for a day

still with us now

 

falling apart

and that’s just to begin

 

come rescue, won’t you?

 

other seasons

suns shone

 

end in a cell

just the size of yourself

as lost as ever you were before

just making it up as you go













esperanta serio #244 - senfolia

 



244

senfolia

 

la arbo memoras siajn sezonojn

ĉie samtempe

birdoj estas vorto en la orelo

 

en vintra meza nebulo

de perditaj arboj ĉi tiuj kvar muroj

niaj bariloj

 

vortludo

havas kun kapo

 

bonvenigi ĉiujn falintojn por grundo

preter ĉia ĉiroj, ĉielo

 

ranoj diras spite

kaj ili estas nevideblaj

 

estu kiel de malproksime

enblovita

 

la lasta folio

nur por diri

 

 







 

leafless

 

the tree remembers its seasons

everywhere at once

birds are a word in the ear

 

in a winter middling mist

from lost trees these four walls

our fences

 

a play of words

has with head

 

welcome all the fallen for soil

beyond all tendrilling, a sky

 

frogs say despite

and they're unseen

 

be as from far

blown in

 

last leaf's

just to say 

 

 

 

 

 


Wednesday 30 March 2022

#817 - we don't know what we're fucking with

 



31.iii.22

817

3.90

we don’t know what we’re fucking with

 

how superstitious seem

to all our later selves

 

breathless

who understands?

we toy and spoil

 

especially the weather

 

some will say I sniffed you out

call them acts of

and natural causes

 

take out a policy

 

cast just a shadow past

 

time – the gallows

a tree run up

 

the soul some say

and parts go over the moon

 

we have doldrums

sometimes skip a beat

and might be just to see you

 

call bolts from the blue

pretend they are mine

 

clever clever

invent the piano the violin

 

when we play with ourselves

we don’t

 

everything is inside out

how else

 

the simple clearing of the throat

as if one might pronounce

 

to know is not

 

there are no words

heart compasses

 

we weave the very air away

 

live forever in a poem

nudge wink

 

and will you won’t you?

 

steer selves into the storm

 

who else is there (?)

one has to ask

 

will you still find me here?






esperanta serio #243 - trovante la unuan linion en fera ĉielo malklara tago

 



243

trovante la unuan linion en fera ĉielo malklara tago

 

destino!

inter la oscedoj kaj streĉoj

 

tiregu unu fadeno

tago malimplikas

 

jen la duone pripensita listo de aferoj ankoraŭ farendaj

la hieraŭa granda ĝojfajro tute cindro

 

malproksima kokokrio

kaldlingo de vaporo al teo

 

do trinku

ĉu la herbo ne kreskis dum la nokto?

kaj kun kia senkulpeco!

kamparo ĉiuj mensogoj

 

ne estas vero por diri

sed arbaroj pli malhelaj

birdoj eksplicite

sugestoj

 

poste portu la libron

kvazaŭ jam skribite --

ĉi tiuj tabuletoj

la monto alportas

malsuprenire

por ni

 

 








 

finding the first line on a tin sky dim day

 

destiny!

among the yawns and stretches

 

pick at one thread

a day unravels

 

here’s the half thought through to-do

last night's big bonfire all ash

 

roostering faroff to urge

kettling of steam to tea

 

so sip

hasn't the grass grown overnight?

and with what innocence!

land all lies

 

not a truth to tell

but woods darker

birds expressly

intimations

 

then carry the book

as if already written

these tablets

a mountain brings down  

 

 

 

 

 

   


Tuesday 29 March 2022

#816 - in the afterlife

 



30.iii.22

816

3.89

in the afterlife

a tumble from hunger

 

for godsbother

 

find me politely

the same old tricks

possibly teaching dogs

 

keep the voice we’re used to

throw it

one more in the choir and sink

 

all thinking is wishful

as in the dream

coming back, ready or not

 

everyone’s pretending

many burst into song

and wave the wings diaphanous

 

washed up like sleep

in these such eyes

as yet remain

 

a hardly hover

that burning

as if all consumed

 

forget my socks

forget my feet

never get sick of the weather

 

lose all perspective

follow any funeral

hair of the mutt for belief

 

on the ghost road

picture the religious garments

we cannot call this free will

 

unless it is the case that

(and we ask you all to forget)

incredible, true, but it turns out

 

that everyone was right

you might never

wake up here