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30.ix.26
jasmine time
grey touch of
sky
wings and leafstrew
songs of a
thicket
breathe on
melodious nose
who won’t
flower next?
who won’t
unfurl?
green
in the
remembrance of rain
you forget
yourself to be here
2464
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30.ix.26
jasmine time
grey touch of
sky
wings and leafstrew
songs of a
thicket
breathe on
melodious nose
who won’t
flower next?
who won’t
unfurl?
green
in the
remembrance of rain
you forget
yourself to be here
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29.ix.26
AI
every crisis
a distraction from another
it will hardly
matter whether there’s a climate
if there’s no
life to participate
but that’s not
quite right, is it?
life’s what made what we call air
still, other
totally lifeless worlds
have got
themselves plenty of weather
how long’s that
storm been going on Jupiter?
and Venus! –
hot fog
you wouldn’t
see your hand in front of you
… no problem
there
it would have
melted away before you could look
that’s just the
local neighbourhood
but back to this
world …
just as we
speak
and won’t you
just look who’s in charge here now
thing we’ve
invented called money
what they do
with it
they say for
the sake of safety
humans must
remain in control
let’s ask the
other creatures how that’s been for them
they say humans
must remain in control
I say that’s
setting bar pretty low
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28.ix.26
a hat
indoors
and the rain comes with it
a man who has been ironed flat
cloud of trees thought on
here’s to sweet regret
the beautiful thing is to not remember
in the broken place
see through
amazing how the house still stands
with none to live it now
find yourself again
once sung
and I’m with you
not that we know such things
that’s how it is to be here
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at
a stretch
7.30
am traffic
Gore
Cove Track Series
to clear the head
with purpose
at pace
to get up the steps for the count
to speak with another world
(phone to ear here)
breathe in breathe out
so freshen the air
where there is the barking of the turkeys
the cooing of the pups
the early walkers with their sticks
hound in harness
all of them coming past
spring like the summer now
coming the other way
a scratch across the page like this
press blood to please the bones
to the plastic edge
where the e-bike’s abandoned
creek dapples along
the dollar yachts doze in their cove
slow burn whipbird’s over
lovely lilt beside, a trill
and crow caw
last of the winter chill
no one speaks of themselves here
it’s only a harbour blue line for under
it’s only a pale blue up
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26.ix.26
air
fiddle
or
haven’t
we all been here before?
ekphrastic
for Natalia Gonchorova’s 1910-11 ‘Peasants Dancing’
you’ll need a body for this
and the colours to lean in
with neither a floor nor a ceiling
you’ll need a face and eyes avert
you’ll need a truth to elude
blue cloth behind for a night
green as over where we’ll grow
fate of us all that a moment is such
you’ll need the feet to go
someone offstage is soon to sing
strings and reeds and a drum
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25.ix.26
race to the
bottom
or
why the fuck
why the fuck
are we supplying fanatical lunatic mass murderers
with weapons,
with ammunition, with soothing words
and the odd tut
tut
?
why are we
paying taxes for this?
for tone it
down please but we’ve still got your back?
you have a
right to exist
…don’t we all?
oh, I see, it’s
for precious leverage
don’t think I labour
under a misapprehension
the other side’s
less genocidal, less full of hate
they, too, get
the soothing words
receive the weapons
donations
and that is
supposed to make it okay?
you begin to
see where hate comes from don’t you?
there seems to be a direct link to unnatural death
and that seems
to be the product of hate +$$$$
though often hate
will lack the means
but why are we
helping hate? …
so we can say ‘bad
monster, down, boy
but you’re
still our monster
you’re not at
all like that other monster
the monster you
hate
we hate too
then who was it
lit the fuse?
who was it laid
the cordite trail?
who was it
wouldn’t forgive?
could never
forgive?
something
written in a dusty old book
to justify anything
you like
to plague anything
you hate
to kill and
kill and kill
and wear the
halo all the while
and smile for
the cameras
be the always
one hard done by
what the fuck?
my enemy’s
enemy’s enemy’s enemy’s…
no knowing
where this thing will go
how it spreads
how hate gets
into every last corner
but how does a
thing like this begin?
how do we make
it end?
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24.ix.26
only the
skin of the world
melophraktic
for Nigel Westlake’s and Lior Attar’s ‘Sim Shalom’
where we are,
where we live
of the teeth
and concerning the claw
goes all the
way round
come back to
just here
as far under
the moon as anyone gets
although we
burrow a bit
lift wing to
fly
it’s just down
here in a sky’s lowest reaches
and here’s a
tribe of skin inscribed –
little
scratches where we’ve signed
mainly though
it’ nose to arse whiffy
old itch we’re
under
bomb like a
clock ticking on to tell
is it every
animal for ourselves?
regret and
what’s next?
anxiety reigns
skirmish
becomes a catastrophe
no sin as such to
visit
but ancient
animosity
and mine,
mine, mine
like Bugs Bunny
in Ali Baba’s cave
after the wrong
turn at Alberquerque
there isn’t an
eye in the sky over this
but we have
tossed up
it must come
down
it’s every
animal decides
peace is never
granted
it’s the hard
thing
it’s just for
us to make