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Posts Tagged ‘temporality’

SUNSET 6 ( only one, and not even that)

There is only one moment, and not even that
As it slides between words spluttering the certain.
There is only one breath, and that has left us as we find another
Between noticing and forgetting the wondering of it.
This is the only sunset, and not even that as it rises and fails
Sudden with colour brash and tender.
One moment gone, one breath, all changed,
One colour impossible to name.
Life becomes fragments if it is held still, perfection palls
And is deemed a failure by universal canon.
The word, a particular curse of our natures,
An intelligence of demons. Too clever by far.
All nouns are lies, all adjectives suspect.
All thoughts – an endless twittered birdsong
In a forest of neurons.
All dreams – a continuing rumble of juxtaposition,
A sunrise and sunset, of edge and horizon,
A slipping through gaps.
Avoidance of the void is the creation of pain and of beauty.
Race westwards: eternal sunset.
Race eastwards: eternal dawn.
Each view only as true as its edges.
Each poem, a breath to be neither accepted or rejected,
Not certified nor censored.
A sign of something passing by, that is all.
Cloud banks over a setting sun,
Hills caught golden, pricked out and pounced.
Delineation of the immeasurable.
A noble picture, or perhaps an articulation of foolishness.
A fragment of eternity rushes by.
The emperor sits on his throne and does nothing,
Yet all revolves about him.
The old sage leaves by the western gate.
No one see his ox cart winding down the road.
He whistles to himself between his teeth
A folk song of the river and the moon.
The sun has set now.
The lights of the distant city begin to show.

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FADING

It is a wonder we remain so long,
So pitted against the odds,
So tossed by ill-considered notions,
So ill-equiped,
So abandoned by squabbling gods
Who sense their own slow demise,
( the flowers of eternity caught
In first frost, petals bruised
And falling.

They will let go, even,
They will forget the juice
Of absolute power,
Leaving their cities
By the ocean’s side,
Leaving their phosphorescent palaces,
Their plastic groaning tables,
Their self-absorbed contemplations.

Before they smell the rot
And sink to feed the soil
They will wander into the mountains,
Mendicants with eyes on fire,
Find caves, light lamps,
Light incense,
Searching for that place
Where they took that wrong turn,
Missed the point,
Laughed at the wrong line,
Stepped across a void,
Instead of falling.

And they shall stay
Until they, and we too,
Fade to a line of footprints,
( they were moving quickly,
Hand in hand),
Shallow dips slowly
Filling with rain,
Reflecting the spindrift
Birth and death
Of spiral galaxies.

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