WHITEBEAM OTHERWORLD
1
The desire to move
To the centre of silence
Where the big trees
Pin their shade
In the deep valleys.
Where big wings wheel
Marking an upward swing
Of stars and moments.
A cradled place,
Habitation of saints.
A long dust, incense
White hawthorn,
Incense lilac.
And the voice
Of dappled rivers.
2
The present slips
From between our fingers
But the past is always with us.
We, its shadow,
An uncertain glimmering
At the edge of cities.
Moving to Otherworlds
Where past and future
Dissolve the moments
Like sugar in water.
3
He writes the wisdom down
Upon his own skin,
A continual palimsest.
A fugue of breathings,
We flicker in and out
Of that dream,
Actors, watchers, or both.
Now summoned
We shall dance.
Dismissed,
Will return to shadow.
Close your eyes, love,
And see the world
As it is,
As it dreams itself:
Whole, hungry
And continually singing.
—-
simonhlilly 
Conversations with Invisible Friends 13
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged ., art, comments, conciouosness, conversations, fragments, landscape, nature, Poetry on May 2, 2014| 4 Comments »
WINGS
Looking over the hills,
Low cloud,
Dusk after rain.
I would wish you
All wings,
My friends.
—
SOUND CHAMBER
This voice born from caves
This voice shaping emptiness
This voice, the flavour of silences.
—
CUP
This vessel of poetry
Always lucid, empty
Til held and warmed
By palms, tipped
Towards lips,
An exchange of breath..
—
TICK
There is no time
In the worlds of spirit,
Nor in the worlds of matter.
Only in the mind of Man
Does the click and tick
Of moments
Signify a neurotic cauldron
To oblivion or eternity.
—
HAVEN
This mind, timeless, anchored
Rocks, sways, on word tides.
Gull-wind senses roam and wheel
Searching food.
The patterns of love
And belonging
In rippled reflections.
Harboured, havened, home.
—
SLIGHT
Sweet violet
White and nodding,
Rising in damp westerlies.
Prophets with blazing heads roar by
Raving,
Not hearing, not caring.
—
SEMIOTICS
Nice, nice, nice!
(Triple nice denotes favour of the gods),
a vapour aromatic, bitter,
Rising from certain, approved of,
Sacrifice.
One who knows his place
And knows it might
Be nowhere particular,
Except the particularity
Of cloud chambers
And the silent
Expansion of a supernova
(Inexplicably given
Nomenclature
Of someone’ wife).
The only object
Is its name.
Three moving lines.
Hence the wise man
Remains silent
Watching the return
Of swallows.
No blame.
—
IN THE MACHINE
Love the depths!
What computers really dream,
what they say to each other,
not just oh and one,
but a cosmology of dark spaces,
exploding stars….
—
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