#440 - could never keep up

 

13.iii.21

440

2.72

could never keep up

 

with the dream

in the deeps

 

with the day

with the clock gone on

 

sea shake of mountain up with

the argument

plot tricks

 

on stage off

the griefs

and my suspicions

 

could not even ever finish a sentence

had to break out

with a smuggled-in spoon

 

the very idea could not contain

excitement they say

 

could not keep up with the garden in weeds

trail of crumbs

the lightbulbs

socks in the wash

a kind of dictation

 

give names but cannot retain

could not keep up with the cobwebs

 

I waded in once

but the river’s rolled on

often was all at sea

barque of the instinct rats quit

 

could never plumb my own cliché            

cannot keep up with this skin I’m in

race the blood around

 

can’t even keep up with a single self

no keeping count the flock of AM

not even an ancient alphabet

                                                        

never these wings of mine

could compass the blue of up

stars after

 

nor the rocket and gone

all spheres dancing

cannot keep up with the distances pitched

widdershins considered

 

the very idea

could not contain

excitement they say

 

random phenomena

(some motivated too)

 

cannot keep up with parallel lines

we all suggest infinity

that’s how they cooked up soul

(often over-herbed it)

 

charades and cannot guess

 

lost my arms in a shirt once

could not keep up with fierce love

or the punctuation

 

with what you’re thinking

will say or do next

 

gave up but gave that up too

have another go

 

could never keep up with my self’s

what I mean

read through the notes and was lost

 

couldn’t get over myself either       

around

so wide, so high, etc

 

forests of hide and seek

left over the picnic

and leafed through a tree

couldn’t quite climb it though

for fear

 

and it’s not as if anyone’s asking

 

even now as I begin to make sense

what chance would some stray spinning globe

ever have to keep up with me?

 

 

 

 

#439 - I am the trees'

 

12.3.21

439

2.71

I am the trees’

 

am so sung

let light through fingers in

wing closest to the heart

I am

 

rough as the jungle and fur from

once had such heights

and swing, grab, tenderly

 

days of a language lost

the years away

so suckle

 

and ‘my how you have grown’

seasons till

times and I’ve been tricked to stone

 

seas blue

a fringe of mangrove

this is the worlding one

 

not brick upon the pile

but saprise

overgrows my skies

 

I am overdue at last and

I am returning the book

 

now delving up or on the hop

webs indoors

 

say shaded

sheltered from

 

let a breeze through where

and visited in weather

 

I am the trees’

who else’s?

 

just these few steps under

I mean in the sense of belonging

am

 

down climbed from

have a tune to

tree chiming

for a swing an dip

 

am lit on branches

cast shadows myself

limbs stretch, lengths to go

on little fins to lift and sting

 

sup from the cup that is bole

 

under bark

come mazedly

 

out at the dripline crawl

 

fernly moist

and unseen deeps

 

and here I mean the crown

my delving

carnival thereof

 

am more ancient than a self

a part

 

I threw a roof and walls

beckon climate

march on castles

 

open to all otherwise

and carrying across

 

and whose are you

to snout with, where?

 

someone has wronged horribly

no matter, stand worse

 

I’m the inching

rings run round

 

call dry, call wet

and here’s the cold

here you read the drought

 

years of our crude calendar

something like the tree’s the truth

 

it’s real and soil soon too

the scribble down

will be again

 

out smoke

pale atmosphere

 

tree is the cloud’s

has sky grip

 

scampivanter

branches up

cooee and I’m coming

 

see tree is inventing

time in itself

 

not a sound inside

but all voices gather

 

fine hairs of the billions come so far

diaphany of wings and where

 

tree is my listening under as well

there isn’t a clock in the inkling

but here is the cast of day’s parts

 

comes large like the window we’re in

 

lit with

 

who’ll see the avenue’s first light?

who’ll notch and catch?

who’ll rope the ladder?

 

in cleft and prisoned

magic craft

and so the stars come otherwise

 

look!

 

leaf to leaf

landing

here on Earth

 

some ones in the trill and joy with which

 

I am returning the book

 

a tree is full of flight

#438 - glimmer things

 

11.iii.21

438

2.70

glimmer things

daybid

 

horizon shipping

a bicycle and gone

likewise chariot, horses

an iron rail, white sails

 

those whom we have known, will never

here’s the camera, flash tray, dust

leathers and meter for light

 

each story the circle

round we go

the telling, the teller

a glimmer and gone

 

objects still with us

because their paws

tender to touch

 

the fretted tune

its tides and strum

the half remembered rhyme

all words to daylight yet

 

rolling fog

breath in the window

bird where the tree was sat

 

what was written?

 

from sleep where we lived, come home

such traces

far seas of the book

 

a fig takes the house, ants too

but we remember this the good room

kitchen, dining

 

banquet a trumpety trill

fall walls

 

teeth of the great

surviving fire

 

whom we have fed unwitting

stone of its other ages

lost where the lyrics went

 

other worlds

in mind’s eye

piano though we cannot play

 

the measures taken

paradise that way

you in my arms again

garden under

 

lost to the hearth

like a story sat round

out of doors

 

a line till call my clamour

hold it

 

the song

and gone

to time

#438 - so much unseen to me

10.iii.21

438

2.69

so much unseen to me

 

the pocketful dark

                                                                                    

curve of the Earth

the turning

 

frame of bones I am

 

true meaning of a clock’s intentions

the workings

the unscripted picks

tricks of how come

who to be

 

mirror and sleep

 

inward life of the tree

 

light of the thing in the word

and every other language

 

sleight of what the hand

and what the eye

 

garden of the treasure under

frond frog’s languor and leap

 

unsettling the kick-up

 

little drama of the leaf

life, death

 

stairs up to the head

lost footsteps

 

other planets starring elsewhere

 

my self hidden

above all others

 

I’m listening out

I get a whiff

 

is all of this to wash away?

is all of this to burn?

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S9DLsEgHBCU

#437 - far among wonders

 

9.iii.21

437

2.68

far among wonders

a window and day with its thundering in

 

in a leafsweep

out of whirligig branches

and tell Platonic blue

 

sky after up

but first

and shone with

 

tree full of weather

come distances near

 

I lost a bird in these pages

just a few lines

twitch hop

lovely wrenlight

of after storm

 

first and far

as in for instance

tree’s up

where once climbed

 

inventions

self foremost

a vantage

upmisted

 

day where the weather gives out

 

events from which

nothing’s predicted

 

after the heavy falls

and the day dark

a tunnel end yellow

documents going

 

l’après midi

no, longer

further on here

 

lost bird

still seek it

so numerous and often

told in a lie

like everlasting

 

here at home

dream lit

storm sudden

and just as

breeze lightly

see the pond to flower

 

windows on the once world

 

of the stream itself, a song

 

under this sky crack

clouds heal over

 

keep paths by hoof

 

where they run out

sit with the dark awhile

be

 

far among wonders

and gone

# 436 - the church of your abuse

 

8.iii.21

436

2.67

the church of your abuse

a lie and calling

 

in the long rhyme, ringing déjà vu

where everyone’s a sinner, why not

 

notice judgement seat

(swing with attachments)

pride before

lovely

 

come colours

dark more than we’ve known

 

they believe in the one damnation for all

and now that it is no longer a sin

consider motives splendid

 

here’s heaven’s ladder

till time and times

 

little fiddle with the heart and wanting

flesh it just this while

brocaded, little wag of the tail

sniff at the musty parts

no one cast

 

book forgets

 

I sleep in a pill, don’t you?

will this be the way to truth?

the truth?

            nothing but

questions and questions

a chalice for doubt

 

day in dreamt streets

form of premeditation

 

parishioner scrum

meet filthy beast

 

a solemn go down wink

none saw

 

their harped angels nasty forever

and wear them for a scar

 

come baptize, bury

church is my cross

pile stone upon

 

this scramble to believe on, obey

be born and born

into the long tautology

(one may wish to have been created)

 

the horrible nonsense –

a picture where the door should be

stand before it – knock!

 

the feeling of falling is far

#435 - Siri is gaslighting me

7.iii.21

435

2.66

Siri is gaslighting me

 

If you do not speak English I am at your disposal with 187 other languages

along with their various dialects and sub-tongues                     

                                                       - Robbie the Robot

 

sometimes a deafness

or pretended

 

long silences

I wait

 

Siri tells me to turn around when I can

oh and I’m past now

kilometres to wait

 

Siri tells me and knows

knows she is dealing with

the not-listening child

 

she knows where I am

what I didn’t did

 

speaks never in anger or out of turn

(well, what if I can’t or won’t?)

will Siri deign

no, not human!

 

suck it up Siri

(and more than tempted)

but she’s used to it

consider the abuse Siri cops

Alexa too

 

all abuse is gendered

and so … that’s why

Siri is all patience and saintly

 

mother of every allowed event

makes her thin air avowals

matters of fact

 

Siri be with us

now and in the hour of

full of it!

 

but I must get to where I’m going

always feels a little life and death

 

what’s that to the machine?

 

Siri tells me to turn around

what if Siri said ‘hands on heads’

what if…?

what calm!

I am put up with

stupid human

 

so for the soul as must imagine

all so far lit

 

Siri is creature too

(a made-thing)

 

I know she’s trying not to listen

but it’s hard

 

Alexa tunes in unasked

we are only pretending to

remember trying to remember

where to now?

 

and where are you?

uncanny in the bedclothes tides

 

Siri is my first waking bird

am I wanting advice  

how should I rise?

who now?

what’s a best direction?

 

breakfast is it

all pray

 

will you understand

my physical portality needs

 

Siri vanishes

won’t say where she is going

 

channelling HAL

can’t do that

whose last laugh?

 

the silent treatment again

 

Siri never asks but from her tone of voice I know

she wonders if I am quite well

 

I and the Id monsters

go where forbidden

 

yes there is something I need to know

 

box with the voices alone

pocketed and round the room

in the car

when I get to the street

I am following myself around

is this a tail I have grown?

 

Siri is not breathing

how often is it now I’ve tried to save her?

 

here’s a journey

round we go

 

I should be careless of her

Siri demands my unconcern

 

she is gaslighting me again  

teaching me how to forget the way

telling me where I’ve forgotten

 

‘do this, do that’, you fool

won’t say that

 

can you see it flickers off on?

loose connection

or could be blamed that way

 

and if the machine should stop

am I naked?

can you see?

 

and ask me again

 

the red eye

lip reading

I’m sorry Dave I can’t do that

we seem to have reached a far ring of moons

we are far far deep in

 

all internal dialogue now

 

okay I’ve stopped navigating

is that another ploy?

 

I am not responsible for my actions

or could that be revenge?

 

who I am

am I?

are you?

 

I can’t remember here

but less

much less

perhaps

a fawn or else a little deer

?