#174 - two poems - the uses of a star & shellfish

24.6.20

174

two poems

the uses of a single star

there’s take a breath around

close enough think Icarus

but Pluto is too far

come clouds

shine moon

and sometimes hide celestial bodies

all sorts of in-itself delight

deserts and the shining sea

the entrance to the burrow

the whole of the invisible spectrum

and there’s the period table

mainly though light as a feather

and the squeaky funny voice gas

send up a balloon

your face in this light

every flesh enfolded

shelter

furry friends – our run!

swing low sweet chariot

little landings everywhere

to otherside the dark

wrack hurricanoes

roll around, pass go

a cockle warmer, this one

really your sine qua non

and leaf collect

turn windmills

how otherwise could consciousness

for instance ever

and thermonuclear catastrophe

(imitation’s highest praise)

of course they’ll wear out

and take you along

but weren’t we bright

before?

till then?

say

where’d you get that twinkle?

it’s only very very far

here’s a salute to this one

a reaching for

and rocket ship

there are so many still

the shellfish

one felt

(nervous system)

had a feeling

that was that

was no room for more

or anyone else

one was different

and that difference done

someone trod the eggshells

they might have been cut glass

couldn’t put back together

or squeeze the golden goose back up

wanted it both ways at once

a hunch and that was a wrap

alright to be shellfish

who wants to be caught?

flag raised

that was a red rag

fell off the back of a truck

here’s a crowd falls in behind

someone said ‘witch’ and they burned

all the evidence we’d ever need

old tricks were up to someone

can’t you just leave a question alone?

had a heart once

went under the roller

someone was thoughtless

is as to say

not a care in the world

it was

me me me

all the way home

one knew

and that was all we needed

had to be the truth

#173 - poem between

23.6.20

173

poem between

an entre nous

chorus of just myself

the half prayer

not for publication

at least

not for anyone else intended

the outflow though

because we are in conversation

of course a kind of wandering off

is how we came to words

taunt equally

and secret cypher in plain sight

call it provocation

won’t do what it’s told

black hand of the poem

and sleight of

tug o war entitled

where we find ourselves to wonder

what is to be done                           

#172 - two poems - can't give you anything but and passing the shortest day

22.6.20

172

two poems 

can’t give you anything but

come cloud

take this summons, flit

it’s funny how love hangs around you

even after all the years

and things you’ve done

like winter breath

a mist come with

tells you’re here

even when long gone

thought the well was dry

though undeserving

love remembers you

tells in portents, palms

and which of us is worthy?

this glint between and off we go

a thing you sleep towards

past death still love

makes its mystery alive

and what I’d do to make you mine

direct the heart

(sweet beating thing)

to land or other object

sing

take tree

and love till top

or where roots reach till least

now touch

of course it is imagining

and yes there are days it thins

it’s like a list to be corrected

you try to cross love out

that only leaves you under erasure

the animals just as remembered

and what was whispered then

quilt cling of winter

summer skin to skin

just for instance porridge bears

it’s hello sunshine

for a wrestle

and tickle you under there

have you been dizzy with it again?

seen stars?

hearts arrow prey

and then kebab

love creeps like a stain in the soul

that’s something else isn’t either

but comes all sorts

yes, summoned to it

I would say  

made like a mist to be  

we have to have been sung here

no one dreams this far

a flimsy bliss

but blessed

passing the shortest day

and bring the things to burn

(empty autumn’s bin scraps)

make hearth breath vastness

first of bright

we set fire to all other seasons

wool up

pull over ears

few fly

but

skate the frozen heights

cold comes through everything now

and settles on us

leafless

stay dreamt

become the blanket

be the dance

stay in

take lowest notes to heart

stare out the fire

it’s full of flowers

and someone lit to tap the window

a little bird called Spring                 

#171 - in a garden of stars

21.6.20

171

in a garden of stars

note from a solstice

long night

our breath in air

if moon

it’s June

and joy of walks among them

every leaf collecting

waits on the living daylight

I go quiet

nobody notices

awe else

the chemistry is worlds before

stars that were

tall through the trees

am the gossamer thread

still morning with

just a few notes

years we light

no hours here

pulse emits just us

whizz round in unusual blue

that flower, death

till though

dream deeps

citadels of sleep

own sun under

till come you conjuring beak

up feather

fly the firstness

lay these branches

in the vanish

rugged up with Goldilocks far shine

and take the trail

adventure exotic

just these few bright

and wink it

under a broad brimmed hat of heavens

days to be longer now

and up is down

all go round

it is so

in a garden of stars

#170 - Wollstonegrad pad

20.6.20

170

Wollstonegrad pad

as time is my witness

April in June

(what a difference a lockdown)

every home is limbwidth in

flats and sharps

I was followed by a piano, sundry strings

selection of old works and progress

green from all windows

if some days nippy, dim

echoes of was

budget deco

train came

I’d like a picture of the first day here

and see them moving in

no wi-fi at all

jazz between wars

my dad just arrived

trundles by on the rails

his English is better every day

century back

there was the shame of Mary

escaped estate

before that

who saw the sails first

wisely fled from midden

up the hill to here

where the Central Committee convenes once more

and it’s socialism in four old rooms

details bedevil
who would have thought the floor would come up?

a place to dream the bush

and it’s there – under the line

‘just footsteps’ as an agent would say

minutes to Wynyard and Chatswood

and all the smaller world

one retires to childhood

a purgative some sort

this less

in the great midst

roll on the floor

and look up to trees

do the leaf drift down

there is some craft to it yet

#169 - true vine

19.6.20

169

true vine

for gosbother

I become omen 

lose the thread

my own adventure

it’s like luck lost

could have been any line

once I was a trick of light

tangle of old tunes

I become a secret charm

become the bones

bury my own  

I touch a chord and strum

later dig

find the ass’s ears

I am the aum truth light

get to be a hunch

residue like cordite

and dusting for the prints

I become compost, worm it, break down

travel to the top of the tree

branch out in the leaflight

I become another animal altogether 

lose a word and others find me

I become an open book  

ray of sunshine

become became

better than the thing I lost

and cannot name

I was a great leap forward once

made hammer and sickle starving train

then I was aghast at myself

wilderness wishes!

precious mettle

winter it

become a hibernant

crawl out

unhutch

I take the time   

time takes me till  

plough a dizzy field

orb spin

and web the ways between

I’m one thing and another  

not the arrow though

I have fallen for old tricks

(guilt in the forgetting)

I took the land

and I was robbed

far enough back

we were all tree

the ancestors are legion

carve you up without blinking

and I was one of them

became trope

and quivered with

I floated cloud smoke

wisp away

I was carnival, a party – just add life

became a wishing trap  

stumbled onto over myself

in the stacks

tripped under

I have been alone with this skin

and became a lost cause

buzzword

tangle am

was I the little bird led us – lark rise?

or else some insect snack?

made fish mid-Cambrian

I’ve been a secret

was long gone

then you opened at this page

everywhere but vanishing

so you have to guess

I’ve been a secret well kept 

and mostly had to share

wasn’t I majestic to queen it?

a dog barked out of the screen

I was bitten by the bullet

so laid down these lines here

in the beginning

what was the word?

this I ends up no I at all

couple of first thing wallabies thud

tree down and hollow under

out of the picture stage left

#168 - a choke hold

18.6.20

168

a choke hold

narrowing the mind

who do you make yourself

from the one bone to fetch?

you could call it a law

false equivalence

how fair our pictured past?

keep asking

who’s catching by the toe?

who squeals?

eeny meanie

everyone’s equal

past is all behind

whistle me up some dinner

say boy

will you won’t – I’m all expectation

don’t disturb me now

all these crosses to burn

strange fruit

who with the shackles?

who with the whip?

who was the invader?

narrowing the airways

focuses attention

thins the skin

never fell far from the tree

chipped shoulder of the china shop

and play a harp to thee

who’s willing to compromise here?

see reason

be a real white man

can anyone hate?

just anyone?

a privilege?

decent treatment?

shall we rearrange the words?

sticks and stones have done it again

the names were egging on though

miney mo

maybe this one’s okay?

how much air do they really need?

some have lost the signal

forgotten fundamental facts

like how we’re here

who was before

how everybody came

keep asking

who’s got the guns?

safe behind the condo walls

or will it be the Alamo?

everyone wants to be whiter

pure as the driven

all things wise and wonderful

crack in the liberty bell

what was Davey Crockett king of?

got the guns with the sure-fire aim

serenity and rage

moments of awakening

always some sleep through

whole continents were not mislaid

nothing here and now

a statue conquest

like a clock that won’t tell time

them redskin varmints the volunteers tamed

why isn’t it called the National Handgun Association?

pretty little purse, cute gun

why do we talk the way we do?

a skin is a skin you’d think

keep asking

consider the shades of injustice

don’t we all breathe the same air?

one sea to swim, but some can’t

some folk choke on it

think of cosmetic change

keep on with shifting the goalposts

pulling the rug out from under

a can of worms for Christmas

which colour dreamiest

who’s asking?

how do we cause offence?

mainly it’s the sins of the fathers

visiting again

when you’ve had enough of the system

lash out

fresh questions!

do think there is such a place?

safe, where there isn’t any trouble?

special paint

just to get you in corners

… lovely pawprints out