#1797 - the preciousness, my enemy

 

1797

5.335

1.xii.24

the preciousness, my enemy

for wise surprise

 

we are, I am

I am, we are

 

here to offend the decorum

to rock their flimsy  

break the rule

or be broken by

 

here to head up the future

throw a question mark over all was

 

to unthrone, to take down the crown

roll heads

and tails, we’ve won

 

make circus of their sentiment

 

here to fly the ointment

to inside out the underpants

to bitter grain the jam

 

here to rattle

there and everywhere

for the good long time

to gadfly

and to roach it

fly

 

tell out truth as well

while it lasts

 

being on our own sweet system

least creatures, brightest stars

bedevil

 

to disrupt the business model

of the poetry smugglers

 

to raze to the ground, to salt the earth

dismember, disembowel

 

to trash the joint so see what’s what

to penetrate the panoply

through skull thick to the dark of heart

methinks it is no journey

 

to magic up the pudding

and that’s just why we’ve come 

#1786 - an acknowledgement

 

1796

5.334

30.xi.24

an acknowledgement

(or ‘no one an island’)

 

or you could call it a recognition

something short of confession –

how our world and mine would be

were it governed by my fears, aspirations, wit …

the imagined asocial sum of my muster …

 

had it been up to me

would have never crossed that river –

     no coracle, no swim

(a little wade and come back in)

 

would not have raised a roof

could neither climb for fear of slip

nor come down to the growl

 

had it been down to my making skill

no car, no truck, no ship, no plane

no bicycle, no wheel

 

was never the inventing type

 

it would have been

Shanks’ pony, a diet of berries, not much

nuts that are easy to crack

a certain amount of carrion, windfall

one wonders about fire

 

there would have been no gods

no understanding of the sky

 

without parents, would we have learned to crawl?

perhaps, but not much further

 

had it been up to us

it’s fair to ask – where would we be?

 

cringing cave corner yet, I bet

but fearful of the far dark bit

 

with what abstraction?

hate, love, hunger, fate    

 

but one never knows extremity

till tether’s end is reached

 

I don’t believe they’d have tied my tongue

 

timid with the thunder

awed with dawn’s reveal

 

eyes everywhere

from, to the dream

 

you see how it is I could acknowledge

I would recount

to the best of these little

my native abilities

I would have to tell it all 

#1795 - the ants believe in the rain

 

1795

5.333

29.xi.24

the ants believe in the rain

 

they gather to it, offering

draw what little light towards

 

it is the dark of their always deep

so solemn with the telling

 

each to other in the knowledge

certain, sure – cloud’s resurrection

 

though some in the nest have never seen such

they know the parable well

 

rain is most meaning in their ways

ants are of earth to climb, quite fearless

 

up through green to where still blue

call bliss their many hands in prayer

 

call toil their fervid feet, shone shoes

though it may never yet have been

 

still the ants will place their faith in rain

we should consider them

#1794 - there is no taller sky than this

 

1794

5.332

28.xi.24

there is no taller sky than this

 

a tree so reaching to be climbed

 

there are no higher stars

 

storm audible

sky spoken

 

as must once

and eyes up

 

as far as we are

 

sky is the flower of all sleep

 

‘come on’ we often say

and will the weather on

 

it is to do with too

 

and in case of angel fall

all one must imagine

 

regularly rail up

 

as otherworldly

as whim of prayer

to catch at crime

 

all wishing for the rain

 

there is no higher sky than this

there are no taller stars

#1793 - sometimes just have to let go

 

1793

5.331

27.xi.24

sometimes just have to let go

 

old underwear

and once were friends

the ear worm

the long itch

 

words stick

vows and accusations

 

there’s always a bloom to unvase

 

it may well apply to best urges

 

how many meals were once alive?

 

memory lets go of us

often a contradiction resolves

 

in the end it’s the world you have to let go

though it hangs on hard

 

it’s deep in the bones to be

 

ignore all that noise they make

but pay attention to the cicadas themselves

how they manage to be here and gone

they seem to have got this down

#1792 - slept so far

1792

5.330

26.xi.24

slept so far

 

the day came past

 

there were things unspoken of

that’s childhood

 

laid out the entrail hours

for ghoulish

 

brought a saw

to have day down

 

we skipped to my lou

a slow poke too

 

house went where it would

such capers!

 

here’s the animal inside

blind stumble

 

in a humsaw so

tractorwhack visions

 

all of our bodies

were heavenly when

 

it will still be here

#1791 - the poison ships

 

1791

5.329

25.xi.24

the poison ships

poem for rising tide

mourning the five million humans worldwide who die from air pollution each year

 

 

the poison ships

carry off tomorrow

 

when every day the sea gives life

it’s every breath of the sky is

 

but the poison ships

creep in, creep out

 

they fight the tide of truth

by habit

 

there’s a train of dark cargo never ends

it creeps

to bring the poison to the harbour

to load it for the whole wide world

 

the poison ships carry off

red as rust they creep

 

that’s how they spread the poison

how ends are made to meet today

it’s money

it’s one great machine

 

are you a part of that?

 

there’s a shovel that’s powered by poison

to dig up more of the same

 

down deep into the entrail earth

where yesterday was buried

 

old bones are harmless if they’re left

but who can afford to leave them

and what’s a dog to do

when it’s gold to burn?

 

that’s habit

how the whole world chokes?

 

where’s a haruspex to read?

those old bones say

‘no future here’

 

this is the dinosaur swamp

of not thinking

we’re selling it to the world

 

the poison ships

carry off tomorrow

they creep across the map

like snails

 

are you a part of that?

 

it’s all the past for burning

it’s all we could have been

 

they’re shipping it out

all over the world

it’s so that there’ll be no tomorrow

 

that’s what the poison ships are for

 

they fill the sky

with we can’t breathe

 

they raise the seas to sail

 

no sails

but puff the oil slick

death to every creature under

 

have you  seen the poison ships?

they are fleet, a whole horizon

 

what can we, any – each of us – do?

 

well, here’s a flotilla of voices against

voiced raised to tell this one truth

painful, obvious –

 

that these are the poison ships

it’s every breathing thing they threaten

 

some lame little danger

a government calls

to set its dogs upon

as if they cared

for all our health

 

when they care for the poison ships instead

for the comfort of their coin

 

the poison ships

carry off tomorrow

 

when every day the sea gives life

it’s every breath of the sky is

 

now

imagine the ships turned back to sea

or sunk just where they are

for a reef

for fish

for the turning tide

 

imagine it all ends now –

the poison and the profit

the failure to see where we are

 

then the mending

then the air can clear

 

we have to imagine it first

 

then which way should we paddle now?

we’ll have to lead ourselves to know

that every breath of the sky’s our best

 

we must fix an eye on hope