#434 - the snore

 

6.iii.21

434

2.65

the snore

for sleep to dream again

 

unknown for its self of fact

like a flock inside, uncountable

uphill puff

a hillside of Solipsia

 

in syncopants

and up-put-with

your train arriving

 

a puff of varied, far

my stations of a cross

 

well sonorous as deep

and sometimes

quite the song

 

some like gull to tossed chips

a re-enactment

we’d worm the ear

here for a vast of far

 

cross-cut or some nights

go with the grain

 

long rolling snore of a seasay

rattle and trill until

a gruff harrumph

the chortle

three stooges fake

cruel play

 

into which what might one pour?

 

a bubble up snore

like digestion spoke

no one has claimed responsibility

 

can strung for communication

tinny tranny too and falter

 

cicadas on the inside out

the tinnitus footnote of a dream

 

and where a world went

we too heal

though you pause to purr

 

touch say can’t sleep through

the heart’s behind this all

soft touch

 

innocence awake

the birds and so

some sunshine 

#433 - he said, she's dead

 

5.iii.21

433

2.64

he said, she’s dead

 

it was always a game

to play at opinion

 

how could consequence?

when here’s power, so absolution

 

drink me

then a point of order

 

it’s quiver lip’s the highest law

thin lip of a lie you can tell

 

out now and under inert

must be my power of argument

 

dieu et mon droit

that will be the logic to beat

 

out now

and lying still under my will

 

as if… here’s to hiding behind

what I won’t remember

 

and here he is, later,

at the pearly gates

 

(of course you must imagine)

the prisoner escorted

 

back through the mind of time

must see what was done

 

now must look

the passive voice

 

weighs justice’s distance

kind of an anti-Orpheus

 

but falls down stairs just as well

I won the argument it seems

 

not everyone will survive 

#432 - first things are sung

 

4.iii.21

432

2.63

first things are sung

in a dream such

 

follow a line and guess

see light sing, an instance

 

but there is scouting

trim wings, take purchase

 

a door and some smoke

then a bridge in the page

 

in or on, much lit remains to itself

unseen, so hidden in time

 

leafmidst, much lit

worldforth

 

I give you the village

no tune to stick yet

 

stream that runs over

top of a hill, see

 

the signature stamp

an old kangaroo

 

remember to measure

cast how far back (?)

 

all fiddlebid, day on

upwith at

 

come so, parenthetic

regular death of the clock

 

tip toe too someone is under

making believe

 

where a cloud

is lost to the day

 

last light has a hearthold too

it takes a dream to be

 

 

#431 - chimneys and windows

 

3.iii.21

431

2.62

chimneys and windows

 

…

and through the garden grove

otherworlds

 

first were

in pools of the still stream

skies stood

selves saw selves so

 

knocked to call

a cast of doors

paper sail

some sinking

 

and in the tinkle whiff other of

 

up in smoke

then now the riff to do

 

some saw through the making ways

 

we come from sleep

foretold the storm

 

the poem

in the story

in the picture

in the song

 

life raft leapt for

swept seas high

 

no back from

but on towards

who ever knows (?)

 

a fantasy outlives us all

or tie the tongue here else

 

square soil of the hole down to

 

come friends who’ll tell

may play at forever

 

no such thing as here we are

who’ll say waking now?

 

#430 - tripping through the city

 

2.iii.21

430

2.61

tripping through the city

(reprise 1976)

over a purple barrel

 

the sun rises goes down

(quick) regular

vanity & vanities

tar bounce

dropped something everything

too much real and no one can read it

 

all with a wisp’s will, no less

gingerly kerb

remember a certain rubber road

a

big black driveway treading on dogs dogs dogs

 

late in the day sing

I would comb beaches, live in a poem, reflect

and do now, lived to

 

this was much Homeric

the wine dark

in the wings so sacred of flight

 

gather the arrows, quiver with

 

who’ll hurl the nobody boulders?

washed a fair wind

 

then I was lilac in the flowers

for days

for years

forever after

 

sayeth forget

horse I’m back on

spider vast as the night

(but pretty)

 

remember a certain bounce and sing

connecting tune and deeps

more mantra             

 

lay down in the dream

walked all this way

 

in a whimsy which is always where

in a whimsy and blissing

remember to forget

 

it was summer

other seasons came

all the days are in this world

 

press on

far fetch

 

creatures in speaking to me there

may have mentioned

(and in the wings so sacred of flight)

 

grain of sand grew became

today a pumpkin drapery

 

remembrance

is the light again

steps as before

and time appointed

 

somebody thought the machine

but no

the wheel was wrong

we went on foot

on the horse in the sky

by rug

and round

 

all things are what?

bread upon water

 

there was no hunger

some synapse bung

this was all out of the box

 

come by chance of course

a wash up on foot

 

with Gilgamite we go

were else

remember to forget this too

 

street of some lost decade

grime and the last train gone

high jumping

catch me can you

 

woke far in the bible once

or one of

far book I mean

 

palm of my hand

can’t you see?

by tendril till a new world come

and spun our heads over

 

no one can read this

still behold!

 

and for a time I bloomed            

 

the cellos of not yet first light

trumpet of birds for first day

dawn of the tresses

colour you like

 

is the last word really fear?

 

walls falling, upheave of

tumble all plagues

 

but attitude is everything

we were well guided then

#429 - three little fellahs

 

1.iii.21

429

2.60

three little fellahs

 

woke

 

listening to the sky come close

now landed

 

the running road

the light come loud

 

creatures of leaf and twig along

 

woke to the body’s tune

and a self too                                                          

 

trill and whip telling

 

an inward rooster

me again

 

touch toes

                                     

some days hear the heart tick too

measure it with lines

 

vast plains of the undreamt day

 

how I fell apart in the book

 

 

 

 

pinch and a punch again

 

now it’s all upfronded March

mossed March

 

not quite ripe

the lemons want in

 

March in its leaflight  

dreaming tin

the keeper of the rains

 

March

pinch and a punch

we’re here

 

 

 

 

a door in the day

for Lou Smith

 

none thought to lock

 

bring the bones

come flesh

 

do come in

you’re welcome

 

say I, the inhabited fancy

 

step through the city

take this pill, melt  

 

a fall of sunlight here

just where the day grows over

 

come seasons, turn

roller skates

 

prepare me a piano please

or any strings at all

                                                                            

not to show you

just to say

the only way

to make the door

is to open it

and step in 

#428 - slept past the clock

 

28.ii.21

428

2.59

slept past the clock

for sleep to dream again

 

and time came to me

all creature and possible, curled

a soft touch

 

was in for the long rhyme

could come anywhere

 

I was the mountain

lovely in leaf

pillowed up

and a muck about under

I was the cloud scud sea

 

the voices!

time was where we wished

known dearest, long since

 

slept hills and far away

high grown

adored of mothering fathering eyes

 

no one to say one wasn’t there

I lay in deep belief

fed on the purest of sleeps

so loved

 

now and then a bass growl

the wolfing down

 

(note none of this was a penny lost

though not all can afford)

 

I was the ape in the six storey tree

wordless

where the poem met

 

no one was prying what this was all for

long lost, may I

 

no perfections there

 

chocolate and tipple too

later replete

 

like to be nameless and nobody there

have to make one’s own way

 

it was a world spin

at Earth’s End pillars

needed to go

 

did you catch that slam?

 

healed over

as for skin

 

now and then fell into print

and I was the uninscribed stone

 

a birthday suit

was all I came in

 

you have to make your own door

 

.

 

slept past the clock

and time came to me

 

these are the lines with which I woke

am I telling the truth just this once