#1358 - mornings

 

1358

20.ix.23

4.264

mornings

for  my day – a book of hours

 

from

the all

the everything

the one

 

I dream with my hands here

 

a weary leap, ablute

I bring the book with me

 

I occupy this vast of skin

to rattle up some bones

and scratch

 

least me

first post – last night’s translation

 

then shedbrary

so paint or draw, both

 

I dream with my hands here

                       on paper, on board

 

a certain amount of recycling

 

take pictures

post to fb groups

 

I settle to a stretch

and lines

like these I mean

least me

 

a cast of arrows wide

 

often I will fill the page

and no one’s to know how

 

none of this more than habit

 

slowly first a windmill twist

kick up

salute the sun x36

 

hang from a beam

deep knee

bullworker too

and the camel

 

see a window through the trees

 

lay back

and read with my father

a comfortable chair

Budapest ’56 right now

though neither of us there

 

I have the parts of the day apart

and every day before

and so we are together

 

an ink run

and crossing

looking up to the sky for time

 

somewhere a sunshine sneeze

and note it

 

turn on a tap

fling open barn doors

draw the blinds down now

back inside

 

correspond – hello

so much so many

make my cause

breakfast and type

 

between the apple and granola

I make the poem – this!

 

now post today’s

and that is day established

 

downhill from there

to will and squander

 

another chair – philosophy

William James today

Descartes and Aristotle’s soul

now where in the Bible? – Isaiah

and I keep Greek gods too

 

Libanius is grumpy

that people think he is

Juvenal waits on the shelf

 

and I may dream a phone call too

 

it’s so many thousands of me, these days

 

all flimsy as I am

in those pockets Nietzsche talked up

(the hundred of the day)

 

! save my own daylight here

and the smoke full of valley

old anxiety

 

I wish to be less predictable

and vary the pace throughout

 

I keep the webs for blowflies

 

I dream with my hands

and by eye to screen

 

oh well and I omit the heart

it’s clouds to pasture

so much blue  

 

this takes me to lunch

destination – siesta

 

much thanks for being with me here

 

I must say toodaloo