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DAVY JONES’ WORD LOCKER

Deep his words are scratched

distorted by tidal distance, and pain, of course.

Long held loved-life pain, mummy-wrapped,

a preserving soul awaiting the hooked tool,

the opening of the mouth, to set them free.

The opening of the mouth –

the filling with light the scooped out flesh,

time-lost and tick by tock forgetting itself and all others.

Simple jar, an ornament, animal-headed,

offered to a wishful more solid shadeless realm

where the river goes nightly snaking through stars

and demons of compassionate mien.

Look now, they have sunk down as little fishes do,

hardly visible in their flickering hoards,

heads all directed upstream,

tails adjusting the moment by moment shift,

the subtle current antediluvian and troglodyte

that darkness holds and darkness knows

and from where the long echoes come down to now and here,

squirming in bright sunlight, as discomforted

as new souls before that throne of heaven.

Food for future is the furnace ash of the past,

swirling dance through stormy hearts and on on

to horizons bruised with miles and the songs of shepherds,

the summer roads, the autumn mists,

the winter byres, the springtime gales.

Spiked bloody the blessed blackthorn,

ragged moaning white and lovely there

in the cloud scud, breathless beast,

the corner turned,

an other mirror water-washed face wanting the new now,

the new now, the new feeling, to shuck old skin and feel the pulsing rebirth,

full-coloured, unrubbed, unworn,

glorious song of shining scale

and the catching scent on warmer breeze,

the future ripening there wrapped in web and goose grass.

Smut-black burnett nods along the roads,

And knapweed royally crowned in chivied clumps,

And the catch of breath, the sigh of heart,

All the remembering, all the forgetting there.

Four chambers, the world fills then breathes out:

Season’s tides that ride our dancing spin

To and fro the centre, found and lost, found and lost.

A rainbowed life wove full, wove tight.

–

The poetry of David Jones is intense, obscure and completely magical. It redefines the processes of poetry whilst revealing the labyrinthine workings of the deep mind. I know many people get upset by the obscure and occult symbolism of some poetry, mainly because they ‘don’t know what it means’. But the whole point of poetry is that it can stretch language beyond the mundane meanings. David Jones does at least provide some notes to explain his sources, which are fascinating in themselves. This poem of mine came as the result of a reading session. Playing with the idea of both the power of his words, and drawings from the ancient and the new in the Welsh bardic tradition, my associations flow to ‘Davy Jones’s Locker’ – the bottom of the sea – , and the Egyptian rite of Opening Of The Mouth, where the essence/soul of the mummified corpse is released from the mouth to continue its Otherworld journey ( a kenning for the power of the inspired word if wver there was one).

DAVY JONES’ WORD LOCKER

Deep his words are scratched

distorted by tidal distance, and pain, of course.

Long held loved-life pain, mummy-wrapped,

a preserving soul awaiting the hooked tool,

the opening of the mouth, to set them free.

The opening of the mouth –

the filling with light the scooped out flesh,

time-lost and tick by tock forgetting itself and all others.

Simple jar, an ornament, animal-headed,

offered to a wishful more solid shadeless realm

where the river goes nightly snaking through stars

and demons of compassionate mien.

Look now, they have sunk down as little fishes do,

hardly visible in their flickering hoards,

heads all directed upstream,

tails adjusting the moment by moment shift,

the subtle current antediluvian and troglodyte

that darkness holds and darkness knows

and from where the long echoes come down to now and here,

squirming in bright sunlight, as discomforted

as new souls before that throne of heaven.

Food for future is the furnace ash of the past,

swirling dance through stormy hearts and on on

to horizons bruised with miles and the songs of shepherds,

the summer roads, the autumn mists,

the winter byres, the springtime gales.

Spiked bloody the blessed blackthorn,

ragged moaning white and lovely there

in the cloud scud, breathless beast,

the corner turned,

an other mirror water-washed face wanting the new now,

the new now, the new feeling, to shuck old skin and feel the pulsing rebirth,

full-coloured, unrubbed, unworn,

glorious song of shining scale

and the catching scent on warmer breeze,

the future ripening there wrapped in web and goose grass.

Smut-black burnett nods along the roads,

And knapweed royally crowned in chivied clumps,

And the catch of breath, the sigh of heart,

All the remembering, all the forgetting there.

Four chambers, the world fills then breathes out:

Season’s tides that ride our dancing spin

To and fro the centre, found and lost, found and lost.

A rainbowed life wove full, wove tight.

–

The poetry of David Jones is intense, obscure and completely magical. It redefines the processes of poetry whilst revealing the labyrinthine workings of the deep mind. I know many people get upset by the obscure and occult symbolism of some poetry, mainly because they ‘don’t know what it means’. But the whole point of poetry is that it can stretch language beyond the mundane meanings. David Jones does at least provide some notes to explain his sources, which are fascinating in themselves. This poem of mine came as the result of a reading session. Playing with the idea of both the power of his words, and drawings from the ancient and the new in the Welsh bardic tradition, my associations flow to ‘Davy Jones’s Locker’ – the bottom of the sea – , and the Egyptian rite of Opening Of The Mouth, where the essence/soul of the mummified corpse is released from the mouth to continue its Otherworld journey ( a kenning for the power of the inspired word if wver there was one).

Before The Throne

Y Foel, winged before the throne,

Raven-tipped, discreetly still.

The light behind her, barefoot, at the door.

No voice. A sighing distant cloud.

Peat dark pools hide skulls that speak

In tongues long gone, this curlew keening.

Our cynefin, our maes agored,

Our ffynnonau, as it were.

And there, Y Foel, seated calm,

Measuring the tides, turning still

From the neon worm, from the fiery fevered

Dreaming empty minds, rabid with wishful futures

That shall not hold.

And the moon there swinging through all her seasons,

Belly full with heroes, bright browed, long-armed, strong-thighed.

Awaiting their turn to return, to shine as blossoms do,

Petals falling in a western breeze.

Just out of sight: eternal sea’s lullaby, over dune and hedge,

Down deep lanes, around corners, the sudden dip to sandy lip.

A taste of salt, a changing glorious thinning light.

And the blue hills over there, always cool,

Measuring the Fall, the weight of Sin, the road to redemption,

The longing dusty road of skin, sun-washed, footsore,

Limping from meagre shade to shade, seeking forgiveness.

Myrddin weighed down and lost in exiled dream.

Name and purpose abraded, worn smooth in seasons’ river.

This last day of summer,

This last day of spring, this last day of autumn,

This long night, the iron edged anvil winter.

Little cat, we grow old here together,

By what fires we kindle.

And whatever the season,

The flowers of bombs

Forever blossoming.

–

Myrddin Through Seasons

Nought now stays.

White wings distant.

Day shimmer, leaf shade lost.

Time was, though now no more.

Nought crosses that barren path,

The squeeze, the funnelled fate.

Linger long – each season’s taste

Turns bitter, sour, bitter-sweet.

A dust leaf dissolving, swallow call fading,

Fading, bones of snow, wind-chafed blossom.

Flicker, flicker in a mind nested barren.

Nought, nought. The castle’s teeth are pulled,

Lords and ladies scattered.

A cold wind eats all comfort.

A cold wind sweeps tattered hopes away.

On the mountainside the fires still burn.

Centuries on, the battles lost and won.

This four chambered heart deserted now.

The pulse river race corrodes day’s edge.

Nothing honed here but blocked out monolith,

A cliff where clings an apple tree,

Lost to the world, dangling awen’s river.

One who waits forgetting,

one who waits the end of grieving.

Season’s sea shorn of wonder,

The very marrow of emptiness.

Nought. The ripples rain, grey slanted slate.

The delve, the shattered dust, the sorry land.

Scarred, forgot, grown green again by chance.

All this, a blink of an eye, a long lamenting lope.

Forgot, he howls, he keeps a deep tally there,

Beneath the song, the dip and stretching growing light.

One line for day, one for night,

One for this dreaming husk,

One for the bright girl by the waters, there.

White wings, distant.

The swinging sun ricochets them hither.

Whistling souls, cloud charmed, tremulous.

A keening on the heart plains, soul calling, calling.

A happy crowd, companionable, garrulous.

Vast as days, their numbers numberless.

All the white souls feathered, endless sway.

The found, lost. The lost, found.

Each the other’s ghost, hand in hand, laughing.

So sleek the flicker light the world spin,

Warming, cooling.

The roar at the edge of the world:

One by one, the seasons tip over,

Disappear.

The roar at the edge of the mind:

One by one, the words topple over,

Disappear.

–

Detail of a photo work ‘Dark Dell’

Bookshop By Endless Seas

A piece written after reading some excellent though extremely labyrinthine poetry by David Jones, which merged with memories of a bookshop at Aberystwyth, and a very hot summer at the end of the world.

The bookshop by the sea,

a roaring word feather,

groomed perfect perfumed owls,

horizon eyes half closed, half dreaming.

Butter would not melt

though a burning sun darkens the door.

Swell and sweat in season’s love,

we shall not see its like nor its disrobed disgust,

nor its glory, once we are dust between pages

tied to ink hard-pressed, etched in acidic misery.

The stinging tongue, salt-wiped, wrapped in salve:

praise the saliva saving insolence and swell tides lost

but leaping, fornicated, fenestrated, facilitated,

heaped wave on wave that the land shudders

and shall not stand, but millennia by millennia,

in minuscule and majuscule, each season lose an inch,

a scarred edge falling to mud- bright mind-stuff,

the dust of eloquence snorted by hogs.

Our lightning bright fire tree blazing, but all consumed,

sentenced by relentless awen-tide that so rides and roars,

roundless, relenting nothing, to save nothing, nor to stoop

nor to stop it all, but bare, to eat to the bones

all this roving, revolving wonder.

And the seasons flick their greasy fingers,

sated but still reaching for more.

An addict for glory, a crucifixion stretched on four pillars,

The world woman opened for birth

and for more, for more.

A gentle Spring in the hills, death under the greening hedge and byre.

A gentle Summer, despite the fierce toothed light

a fading, fading fight for breath.

A gentle Autumn: tears on the valley mists

and the webs of warfare stretched between limbs

of the dying light.

A gentle Winter, at last a silence wordless,

millstone grating mountain and sickles blunt, stars exploding,

cessation the heart centre maelstrom,

gravity roaring it all down to itself.

The chambers of the soul undressed.

Time stretched too far to return to its shape.

Hope collapsed, changing, clanging, clinging,

the mother births and births again.

Eternal flower, feed us, feed us.

Take us not from the pap of love, the hill of glory,

the fortress of light.

We have watched the seasons come and go

and still have yet to learn anything.

Save us from the men who plan.

ARBUTUS

At the very edge there, where words are born

In the roar of the world, and waves roll in on black cracked cliffs

That will only slowly yield to any future dreaming.

There is a tree there, they say, that holds four seasons at once

In its salty grasp, and dawn and sunset, and fire and fountain.

Flowers and fruit: from silver, moon-pale bells,

To orange suns, red shifting to dying stars,

Leaves ever green and growing on skin-warm branches.

And they say the first children of the greatest mother,

When they flew over the empty land, green below them and open to all.

They who walk through deepest earth, white as the threads

That hold the flow of Time, red as capillaries, life-blood pulsing there.

They scattered the seeds of that sea-worn, time-shaped tree

In the forests there, in the folded valley’s shade.

As a sign that Time is not eternal prison,

That a river is both estuary and source,

The great and the small – one remembered day.

That passing is a dream.

That there, in the deepest heart,

The birds of dawn and sunset simultaneously sing.

The dying of every season’s wish,

the bloom of cold, the sun’s warm song,

Nothing but life’s long breath as she dreams her dream,

Turns and sighs and does not wake.

On the plain there, unshaded, unsullied,

Encompassed, radiant, four seasons meeting, holding on, letting go.

Delightful, distant memory song at cross-tides of seasons,

Watching stars explode, feeling dervish galaxies dancing tranced

To their maker, dark and glorious within their hearts.

There is the one spell the speaker spoke,

And it rumbles on through every dawn,

through every dying cry.

From beginning to end,

An eternal tree that carries all seasons there.

–

One of the poems recently written with the local Eisteddfod in mind.

Song of Bran

VOYAGE OF BRAN (1)

For what reason

Does she call the Raven King,

Arcing over the waters to a safe land?

She is wedded to the song, blossom and fruit,

Calling from afar.

No matter where we turn

The music is invisible.

It sinks so deep that we sleep

And see what we cannot see,

Wish what we cannot know,

Set sail in hope on small boats,

Our lives no longer holding us

On their certain courses.

Cast adrift to find joy,

To measure it and move on

As the visions shift

And prophecies grow stronger.

We, in turn, become more, and less,

Floating above, sinking below.

The Raven sung by love to rest.

And restless shall they be

With and without this world.

The taste of the tree,

Never quite enough.

Never seen again,

Melting into the music.

Oh! Silver Branch!

–

VOYAGE OF BRAN 2

I turn back to see the future,

To see what has been missed.

A silver rent sings across the sky,

Laughter that only a world can make.

I know we dream, but do not know how to awaken,

Or if it is wise.

Water birds are screaming lies,

Hearts sink deeper into permafrost.

The smudge of sneers on too many faces.

Truth that was struggling is dead.

Best not to speak at all.

Let the world in, though,

That impossible branch of song,

To new pathways, new biologies.

Look back.

Has it not all been written of before?

BRYN

.

BRYN

Bryn does not care

Whether it is ice or storm.

It does not care which angry voice

Strides the world to call for war.

It rises as it always has

Making a horizon towards heaven,

Feeling the deep, slow pulse of the seasons

That is the heartbeat of the earth.

Feeling the downward blessings of rain

That trickles its poetry through

Heather root and bracken arch.

Bryn, that is no name at all.

Singing itself to itself.

The throne, the Elders, the Hosts,

The shining voice, itself to itself.

Holding its counsel, abiding in silence,

Resting alone. An island above the mists,

Above the green glow, moving the stars

And giving each its shelter

In its own dark womb.

.

Crooked One

CROOKED ONE

.

Naked and moist am I

Burning with stars.

A sickle swept low

Severing chance.

Tongues silenced

Their excuses full,

The stories tedious,

Revealed as smoke.

One deep dark eye

That measures worth

Unblinking.

I bend slow and low

Gathering up and binding.

The web tied and untied

Between all things

That tastes of poetry

But is seed and blood.

Unmannered, hungry,

The world shall taste it

And be changed forever

We demean ourselves with pretty gods.

Lessen the glory of the pulse of life.

Fail to stretch beyond the familiar,

Discard the chance for conflagration.

A passionate average, a mean measurement,

A judicial lack of vision.

The wild world dances,

So we turn away to sink

To meagre cooling gruel from yesterday.

.

Cailleach Says

CAILLEACH SAYS

.

This is what the

Cailleach says:

I have outlived you,

Outlived the fighting men

With their angry religions,

Their need to keep memory to themselves.

I have forgotten the years, forgotten even my names,

Forgotten all the homes belonging to myself and my daughters.

I walk about, best you if you challenge me.

I do not care that you live or die

Because you shall live and die.

Myself, my daughters, somehow

Avoiding the slaughter, avoiding the bombs,

Avoiding the pious, unholy glory of it all.

Living here and there, bringing luck,

Bringing healing,

Bringing you down-to-earth.

Where are we now?

I am the smoky one, the drift of smoke

Through your desolate city,

The ragged one, the forgotten one

Who cares for the small things,

Who teaches my daughters

To bend and survive, to make bread,

To give milk, to circle around edges,

To pick up the pieces that remain.

The thieves will come,

The do-good priests with their tall tales,

And the old men with their aches and jibes,

And the farmers with their complaints,

And the wind with its news of another war

Made by men.

And we shall remain,

Ragged, unnamed, silent, alone.

Us and our daughters

Holding on to the world.

With our keening and our shroud-clothes.

Waiting to wash the bones clean.

Waiting for goodness to be noticed.

The storm washes clean the slaughter-stone.

Moonlight on the darkening path.

.