Posted in Uncategorized, tagged art, darkness, landscape, landscape photography, midsummer, night, Poetry, relativity, resonance, Wales on July 26, 2016| 3 Comments »
Midsummer night occluded.
Clouds rent slow and pale light.
One rolled silent tumble
Psalming more for gentle gods.
Rising, falling the hills
And through them threaded
Rising, falling hours of owls.
Weeping wonder
Well gone before done,
A brief flick and dreamer dreaming.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged art, black and white, darkness, dreaming, Haiku-ish, landscape, night, photography, Poetry, time, waking, Wales on February 6, 2016| Leave a Comment »
THE WATCHES OF THE NIGHT
satin smooth,
the slip of minutes.
a thrum of rain, softly.
tumbled from skies,
dreams like the Towey,
slow, meander seawards.
a wide forest sleep
sighs, a symphony.
owl and fox, conductors.
wandering through.
a trail, footstep words:
small, moonlit puddles.
a dark plateau.
a dusted sequence,
trespasses unforgiven.
even bodiless,
adhering to habit,
cambered causeway.
a bridge suspended.
dark the waters
shimmering cold beneath.
sung by a shape of words.
mountains named,
a throned reciting.
an intimate decay.
a clock of heartbeats,
a lilting, familiar nod.
sideways and down.
subtle the shift,
the weight of dawn.
draped about,
falls discarded.
gathered in, forgotten.
—
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged darkness, dreams, early morning, fireside, Poetry, quiet, time, Winter on February 6, 2015| 2 Comments »
I am tired but cannot sleep
Or will not readmit the silent night.
I kneel before the kindled fire
Humbly warmed before its roar.
Its kiss and crackle a comfort
On the round silent dark day.
A skim of dreams caught and lost,
A habitual melancholic stare.
The cats are curled and silent,
Heads held thus, angled, ears ready.
They slip, too, bolsters between worlds,
Watching new ghosts stumbling
Unacquainted with their freedom.
Long held time caught fire
And vanishing up in smoke:
Each a metaphor for all.
A cup of words swilled and tasted,
A meal meagre but stilling echoes.
Eyes will close and close again:
The bright dream fields of morning.
And those I had forgotten,
Still waiting, one door swinging shut,
One door, opening out soundlessly.
—
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged darkness, landscape, night, Poetry, samhain, senses, time and space on October 30, 2014| Leave a Comment »
LONG NIGHTS
It is the very egg of long nights:
Still and black, a light rain falling.
The cats peer silent from windows,
The long fire slowly fades and whispers.
In the garden there will be slugs,
Stately, weaving their own fine galactic trails.
Beyond, in the meadows, glimmering sheep
Will nonchalantly chew, nod and say grace,
Nod and say grace.
There will be owls and a scurry of mice.
And there will be dreams sliding
Between the in and the out of breath,
A tower of worlds, made and unmade,
A cascade of tomorrows in dark and light.
For most, (but never for all),
There will be a slow dawn.
A new wind from the hills,
A resumption: nets and hooks set
Eager to catch time, labelled, minuted,
Used, misused, wasted.
But not now,
Not now.
Not in this one vessel of darkness:
One long curve holding curved void.
Not distinguished are the living or the dead.
All are quiet ghosts
Tasting the certain past
And this turning, rolling, cooling night air.
—
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged consciousness, darkness, demons, habits of perception, inspiration, mind, muse-medusa-medulla, persona of poets, photography, Poetry, stance on July 4, 2014| Leave a Comment »
POETS OF THE GREYING VOID ( BOOK OF VOICES)
Only by these words
Only by those your demons allow
By those airs and sorrows,
Those scars,
That keep them so contentedly anaesthetised.
A mirrored spirit in mirrored halls.
Teeth and lips, tongue and breath
A landscape dreaming life
Into itself.
A moon, a lost planet,
A drift of photons.
Sparked, struck flint,
A blink or such
In darkness
Illuminating nothing
Momentarily searing
Momentarily serene.
We cannot question the beauty
Of these voices, beautiful as they are,
So like our own, so like oceans,
So like sighs.
The meaning comes and goes,
A flock fierce and pierced.
The quivering salt
That falls, drying hard,
A new skin.
Maintenance of edges
Honed, traced upon, mapped,
The armies of the Lord,
A sway jut-chinned, belligerence.
The same countries, the same roads
Renamed, mispronounced.
Recidivists redacted,
All is sweetly perfumed,
Sweetly ended.
This my demons demand:
A better, bitter truth.
—
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged darkness, generation, goddess, in conjunctio, light, oak, Poetry, summer on May 15, 2014| Leave a Comment »
SUMMER’S TALE ( The Ancestral Speaks)
I have found an acorn, small and green.
Given my murmured breath,
Given it my own waters.
It has grown thick and strong
Arching to heaven.
I have planted it deep
In my warm darknesses.
Rooted, it quivers
Bursting forth white blossoms,
A dripping mistletoe,
A sacred thing.
Becoming worlds we,
Trees of life, twined,
Exhale and rest
On warm earth,
A sun-dappled ground.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged cosmology, darkness, goddess, mahavidyas, night, Poetry, project, The Recitation of the Names of Night, transcendence, vessels on August 8, 2013| 4 Comments »
I have just recently turned my attention back to a project called (at the moment) “Recitation of the Names of Night ( or Darkness)”, pulling together black and white graphics and words to create an art book project. How far it will get, who knows…..
These received texts will be interspersed amongst images, some as staightforward text, some as worked and layered artworks. ( “received” as in: come out of the blue, unbidden, uncensored, unformed, a fleeting landscape of idea cuaght from a speeding moment)…
RECITATION (1)
The Topography of Night
The topography of Night
The slopes of darkness
Its pools, its shadows,
Its steep contours, its melodies,
Its mists and clouds.
To map its creatures
To collate its vocabulary
To define with certainty
Its presence and its absence.
To narrate its brilliance,
Its luminous resonant self,
Its fear-filled halls,
Its echoing steps, its
Vague promises, its
Certain threats,
Its embraces, its charms,
Its crevices, its lascivious
Gestures, its names,
Its names,
Its names.
—-
Epidermis
She moves,
Ligament and skin
Extending, taughtening,
Flex, reflex, a brushing
Of skin on skin.
Dark matter, dark mother,
Between all things,
Behind and within,
Void and immanent,
An unexpected punchline
Ghosting us,
Rapidly, inevitably,
Collapsing neat equations,
Smug cosmologies.
The sound of silk sliding
On silk, tongue across lips.
—-
Vessel
A bowl, a cup. A simple thing echoing the two hands together. A nutritious function. The hands, the skull, the sky. Clay pressed to hold emptiness and fullness. Progenitor, act of creation. Made of clay, pinches of dust kissed, mated, caressed, formed. Fingertips pressing warm cavities, pliant, obedient, holding still, spun, stroked, admitted, allowed. The scent of iron and sweat and earth.
—–
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged architecture, bardo, darkness, Exeter Cathedral, intermediate spaces, light, medieval iconography, metaphysics, photography, Poetry, space, stone carving, time on July 25, 2013| 2 Comments »
ARCHED (part3)
The bardo of entrances.
Intermediate transitions,
One spliced into the other,
Time and space elapsing.
A slow cool outbreath of stone.
It requires a recalibration,
A rearrangement of the senses.
Slowing,
Time is tamped down
In dusty layers,
Glistening.
An inhalation
Of fractured light,
Absorbed, solidified.
Entering the cave of God:
His ribs, grey skin tight,
Desiccated, stretched out.
Pinned, hammered, sheltered.
We are slowly digested,
( the enzymes of faith),
Becoming less, and more,
Of ourselves-
Becoming one of the waiting.
Slow and turning
From cave
To cave,
( the frozen forests whispering
Chiseled curve and keel ),
A reconstruction of gravity.
Tree roots sky conjoined,
Arched, steepled.
Leaves, gold,
Fruits rotten,
Drift weightless, upwards,
Food for avaricious
Angels.
An embroidery of whispers
An evolution of sorrow,
A still heaven
Waiting for a new
Eternity.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged cicadas, city, darkness, kuwait, landscape, neon, night, photographs, Poetry, rain, Tokyo on May 17, 2013| 2 Comments »
—-
CITIES OF NIGHT
The prickle-skin of neon
Electric cicada buzz.
Light – the city’s camoflage.
Fickle, flicker
Paling sun, moon, stars.
Echoed shadows coloured.
Time puddled,
Hissing.
Neon kimono
Expressionless stare
Indwelling darkness.
Iron castle
Skull-wreathed.
A sludge of thought
Clay-like, heavy.
The weight of
Tomorrow.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged abiding, cats, darkness, fireside, galactic centre, gazing, nature, night, Poetry, silence on December 13, 2012| 2 Comments »
Night Watch
We shall learn to suffer the long dark,
Learn to melt with the short darkness.
As clouds cover the stars,
As the fire settles back
And the cats, relaxed, alert
Become still
( now it is their world).
The hum of voices, insistent, distracting, withdraws,
An undertow sucked into silence
(The spaces between things).
Roaming large and small:
The solid fears and frights,
Noises with eyes,
Snarl of unknowingness.
(Keep still.)
It is the edges that melt away
The words no longer mine.
The certainties belong to naive daylight
Not to this red tongue of dark beauty
Lapping synapses with galactic spin.
Enough to be breathing in and out
Enough to be watchful as sleepers sleep
Enough to shift weight slightly as the heavens wheel
Enough to know little, if nothing at all,
To rest upon the pulse and flow of veins
The warmth of cell and muscle
The opium castles of consciousness
(emperor’s clothes on a ghost of habit).
Keep dark the hours of darkness
Keep silence in the silent wanderings
The silent wings, the silent edges,
As silence is the only way,
The one sure way,
To find what becomes the centre.
simonhlilly 