Tuesday, 8 August 2023

#1316 - no is so easy



 

1316

9.viii.23

4.222

no is so easy

 

it’s the word with the sharpest edges

and sometimes it’s all that you have

you’d like to bite but ‘no’ comes out

 

it’s been this way to make a stand

 

no is a long howl of defiance

a word for screaming too

 

no is the first word for some

the first thing that comes into your head

it is a word of power

 

and when it falls into the wrong hands

the wrong head

when it comes out of the wrong mouth

 

that’s when history’s undone

 

no is a way to not listen

it’s block my ears

nothing can convince me

 

it’s the shortest known distance

between question and tantrum

 

ask any old two year old

they all know

the first word weapon

 

it’s not exactly something remembered

 

but there was comfort when there was nothing ahead

just mother all round

nothing to say

nothing said

 

now the closest thing we have is no

 

this is how we go back to the dark


esperanta serio #712 - Leteo


 


712

Leteo

 

ĝuste tiel

 

unu tagon foriris

vi ne vidos min

 

restas kelkaj vortoj

el kiuj mi estas farita

 

aŭ ene

de iu memoro

ŝteliris senkape

 

sufiĉe ofte

 

tute nenio en la aero

nek odoro de, tuŝo, gusto

 

iam oni volis min

mondo turniĝis

 

kaj alkroĉiĝis kune kun

eble signifis

io aŭ alia

 

estis ĉiam malkaŝanta

kvankam nenio por kaŝi

 

ne ekzistas maniero la morto faras sen

 

forgesu min unue

ne scios kien mi iris

 

 

 

 





 

 

 

Lethe

 

just like that

 

one day gone

you won't see me

 

a few words left

of which I'm made

 

or inward

of some memory

crept with a head off

 

often enough

 

nothing in the air at all

nor whiff of touch taste

 

once I was wanted

world spun

 

and clung along with

might have meant

something or other

 

was always unveiling

though nothing to hide

 

there isn't a way death does without

 

forget myself first

won’t know where I’ve gone

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


Monday, 7 August 2023

#1315 - being a young poet

 



1315

8.viii.23

4.221

being a young poet

self-ekphrastic

 

something one never recovers from

 

 

being a young poet

I am taking my pill of moon, a half pill

big tin of white

waking up every time after

 

own space junk rains down upon

 

need a blacker black

see stars

 

I am conducting all the lightning there is

I am the foliage too

 

take this down

 

you might think understanding would grow

instead the world grows further

the heavens are worse

 

I own the harbour

I own the sun

I own this last patch blue

 

see back

and who’s to raise the veil?

 

upstarting, feted in dreams

it’s lovely, just what I’ll do

 

being a young poet

oars up, inkling replete

soon to be papered over

 

nothing then to watch a mountain climbed

could smoke a whole tree

go to bed with no supper

 

fresh as a flower yet to name

 

wise saws

well adrift

world spun all round me

fond in remembrance

 

I’m not growing out of it

no way

 

I am knowing forth

this that

you bet

 

cast certain areas of colour

 

arrows like these point out of my head

 

I am well ahead of myself

I plan to stay there too


esperanta serio #711 - pepeto

 


711

pepeto

 

eta korsalto

unua lumo tiam

 

deziro

fajfu

 

spiro

senpage

 

tie ĉi mi estas

 

koro pendante por montri

 

nur aferojn

 

baldaŭ forinte

kaj ankaŭ ni

 

ankoraŭ ne

do

rulu

kaj

provu vian sorton

ankoraŭfoje

 

unua lumo

iom da korsalto

 

 

 


   


 

 


tweet 


little heartleap
first light then

a wish
whistle up


a breath
for free

here I am

heart hung to show

just things
only things

 

soon gone

and we are too

 

not yet
so
roll
and
try your luck
once more

first light

a little heartleap

 

 

 

 

Sunday, 6 August 2023

#1314 - swerve

 



1314

7.viii.23

4.220

swerve

Markwell, winter, thinking of Lucretius

 

now supposing

 

being where we are

air deep

afoot among

say, for a moment, nowhere

or just as good as

 

sinew of self, flex forward

yet some silver to the smoke

having darkened grimwardly

 

one cloud and another, one star

 

myself, careful with a valley

going round, like the rain

 

tending few words, less fire

 

and all of this to know

that these hurlings and hurtlings

are all at once

 

around the sun

and for a spin on own axis

ducking comets

our own star on its long way where?

the galaxy weaving forth

outwardly ever

 

that I take my moment here

and thank you

secret, still and calm