#2317 -- dreamtalk

 

2317

7.124

5.v.26

dreamtalk

 

is thoughtless

 

things just come out

 

that’s one world at words with another

 

should I answer?

who can tell?

 

kettle boils, birds begin

 

as if a veil were to cast aside

as if tear through a page to light  

 

anonymous

none disagree

 

there’s all this long since in it

 

secrets and hunches and inklings to bright

 

there’s all this which is which

 

scratchings at where the arrow falls

 

not even a piece of time

but we’ve been

 

in sure and certain knowledge

to speak in a forgotten script

 

of first things though not yet

#2316 - we all drink from the one sky

 

2316

7.123

4.v.26

we all drink from the one sky

 

breathe in

set out

imbue

 

the taste of these words is in my mouth

 

observe

how all of this is worldly

how there’s nowhere else

 

an armslength trap

the day to day

 

to catch     

and to uphold

 

all drink from the one sky

 

people it

and creature it

point the view

pinking

 

so little much

wink

and where would you rather?

 

who goes round?

is it us?

the me-you?

 

can you hear it?

 

under the wind

and away with all words

 

it’s devil-may-ever

 

how would we know?

 

as if gods could care

 

it’s all the one sky

up there

#2315 - four little practice poems for Chris Mansell

 

2315

7.122

3.v.26

four little poems for Chris Mansell

following her workshop session

 

 

to be where I particularly am

 

no camera

 

blank terror

a walk into words

 

carry thing around

it’s lonely

 

there’s this me

no other

 

pivot of else

and now again

 

I’ll find myself

 

where

I in particular

am

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

historic

 

the apple

 

of eye to see

 

it’s the colour of something

(I won’t say)

 

one among the flock

 

and bitter sour or what-you-will

 

of the type, delicious

 

tree’s green too, leaf

that’s the true thing, note

 

I mumble it out, hoping

 

and look, no hands

here’s Coleridge, some of his grazing mates

 

they’ve just come to take a bite

 

 

 

 

that which and of he so she

 

by my but till or if when

what from some else still then?

with yes not it

like that

like that

and round about

just so

!

 

 

 

 

 

insofar and no further than

 

my father always quipped

 

and what he meant was

words aren’t long enough in this country

 

though I don’t think

he ever said this as such

#2314 -- don’t worry ‘bout a thing

 

2314

7.121

2.v.26

don’t worry ‘bout a thing

Epicurean

poem for those who remain

 

 

today is the first of something

 

but what?

 

it all just stops and you’re not there

 

there’s no one and nothing

no witness either

 

who’s scratching in the wall?

 

suppose a world goes on

just suppose

 

wish up a star yet

 

something woke me

 

there’s something doubtless

we’ve come to guess

 

it takes a leaf to gather rain

takes the shine off a sun

 

who’s scratching?

 

this is just a theory, mind

 

dreamt all the way here

and all the way home

 

some are still at it today