Tuesday, 1 July 2025

#2009 - sad old things

 



2009

6.183

2.vii.25

sad old things

 

dust gathering

and how we’re home

 

like words we forget still were

 

jugs upstairs

all their underparts

 

words ringing round with toil of us

 

mad hair and how to comb?

 

cupboard scuttle too dark to explore

 

things left and things forgotten

 

rubble under

rich with lost wishes

 

old harvest to scythe

all kinds of rust

 

moonlight lost

 

a topple of fences

day unshaven

 

even till last joy

all become

even again

and we’re stone

 




#2008 - in a stone circle

 




2008

6.182

1.vii.25

in a stone circle

at Machrie Moor on the Isle of Arran

 

heaving grief

tired as fear

 

a hard man

terrible

here’s respect!

 

we place it here

the crouch of bone

 

elk and auroch, boar and fox

these all whom he brought down

 

man of stone

strong armed

here’s his face on yours

 

here’s hate and tender too

 

by a sheep ridden ruin

by the dung rusted byre

 

a wall of were

the clover overgrows

 

by power of death alone

we work

 

and the big man is planted

to the underlife

 

all this stone we’d heave

we’d haul

and more

another mile we’d haul

to keep the fucker down