ADVENT
1
A bitter edge.
Two ravens
Smudge motionless air.
A blessing it is
To have breath.
2
The slant of rain
Roars on rooftops again.
The fire, though, burns bright.
A blessing it is
To have breath.
3
A slow dawn.
The hills have yet to return
From their night journeys.
4
Oak’s iron hand.
Black veins
Holding what remains
Of sunlight.
5
A thousand galaxies
In the old man’s beard.
Sudden brightness
On a winter’s path.
6
A knot of dream,
Tangled,
Sinks down into darkness
Still wriggling.
7
Mercury and lead
Are the roads leading to emptiness.
Puddle-edged, empty,
They rise and fall
As if someone
Were watching.
8
Time slows,
Withers and stops.
Solstice.
Only the rain.
A blessing it is
To have breath.
—
Review
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged city poetry, comment, comparison, contemporary poetry, criticism, doubt, fashion, individuality, judgment, myth of, Poetry, slick, style, tone of voice on November 28, 2015| Leave a Comment »
REVIEW
Ice moon
Punches light
Through brittle
Smoked sky.
Nothing is revealed
By word or movement.
Body’s aching
All the time
(As the song says)
As the song.
City words.
Skinny,
Low-fat language.
No need for pause
Or repeat.
Socio-
Political,
A smatter of
Classical reference,
Footnotes,
Hand gesture,
Erudite,
Excusing
All manners of
Genocide.
Overplayed is
The well-suited
Dictionary.
The poet
Understudied.
The poet
Misunderstood.
Trope, trapped
And clichéd.
Time to sink
To anonymity,
Forgetting,
Forsaking this clamour
For another, yet another
Point of view,
Validation.
Worms wriggling
Upwards to
Drown in puddles.
Picked off by
Black birds
With golden
Beaks.
A
Metaphor
Too far
Perhaps.
—
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