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Posts Tagged ‘time’

Serry (orality)

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 8, 2013| 8 Comments »

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SERRY

What is said,
This moment,
This word,
Is real, torn, squeezed,
Extruded
From heart and breath
And world.

This sly scribble,
A snake that curves
And curls tight,
Brain deep.
My thoughts
In your voice,
A mask,
A masking.
Laid down,
A trap, cunning gin
Tongue-tying,
Strident
(Though even whispered).
Time bomb.

We sing in chords,
In chorus.
Drum on flesh and earth
Together,
Drum with feet,
Drum with tongues.
Together ululate,
A stampede, a flock.
Syncopate pulse,
We merge.

Never this
String of thought,
Tugged out to tie senses,
Alone, locked on paths
With no cessation.
A spell, an enchanting,
Mazed: ink and electron
Dancing grim tango.

Entangled, entangled
In mind or mouth,
Striving to know escape
Or to know belonging.

The mute language of skies,
The sing of cloud dissolving.

Being nothing
But ourselves
We dive down
And drown.

What i mean is
What eye can mean
What mean is even tranquil
What line dances
What dance thrills out
Worlds words
See spy the key
Notation
Reminders
Remain
Only.

A cool breeze lifts the poplars
A cool breeze learns sound,
Then passes back to silence.

—–

Sparked by a pile of books, a passage of time.
The title, originally ‘Orality’ ( a new word to me, precise and useful but somehow ugly) I changed to ‘Serry’, a very nice concise, old word that sums up both restriction and unity….( I randomly found it whilst checking the spelling of ‘cessation’!).

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Figuratively

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 7, 2013| 10 Comments »

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FIGURATIVELY

Such as it is,

(All immanent),

It fades, fades, flies, falls.

Our art,

The only way

To catch the present moment,

Reflected, mirrored

On this moving, rippled

Lake of memory.

—-

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Harvest Festival

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 6, 2013| 4 Comments »

HARVEST FESTIVAL

Cloud rests, winged.
Feathered, these upland mists.
Green grey the day along
Swathed and shrouded hills.

The still, one prayer, arcs
The scooped valleys.
(Pitted the stones,
Time-pocked).

A bell, a peal:
A gathered fruitfulness,
A hymnal of sunlit days.
In sainted, beached ship,
Sails of praise turn tides.

We become indwelling,
Folded,
The promise of rain,
The blackbird’s quiver-
Heart arrowed, liquid.

——

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Dawn Paints Turner

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , , on September 6, 2013| 7 Comments »

DAWN PAINTS TURNER

Eloquence of moments,
Tuned, fascinated.

Time when time
Turns visible.

Unfold the dawn:
A wooded hilltop
Crowned with
Swaying light.

A tentative colour
Of cloud,
An increase.

A commitment
To form,
A dance.

A fugue
Of entities,
A cascade
Of certainty.

Quiet
In the windless valley,
Soundless,
But for birdsong.

Spacious and vast
This becoming
Is.

Gaze
On the face
Of delight.

—-

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Blink- dream stream ( for Nathan)

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on August 22, 2013| 4 Comments »

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BLINK
(for Nathan)

How is it some patterning of the familiar, some phrase turned this way, that way turns more than echo, enlarges, exponents, fractures into its own chaos pattern?
We blink and the world disappears. We sleep and the universe unravels. We talk to the distance, converse with the invisible, as if our thoughts had pulses. And then there is that silence, in that forest, where that tree falls, unhindered, unremarked, unwitnessed. And the question marks the doubt.
What will be missed?
Slowly turning, slow breezes of distant breath,
We are enwebbed,
Weightless, waiting our turn.
A sweep, a cascade,
A clamour, a whisper,
A yes, an and but,
A slight widening of eye,
A lick of tongue to lip,
A spark, a cinder reseeded.
Upon an ash of dull vocabulary, a sudden dust devil dancing, acrobatic heretic, acrostic cross-stitch. And there it is, temporal flux. Gravity well. A siphon, a vortex, a cascade of neurons inventing new species. A bloom of bacteria basking in the bright futures of near-death.
Nothing is further from the truth, it never crossed my mind, a creature of habit, transfixed in the headlamps. A tumble of the banal: our raw matter to tease out, to squeeze.
I am winged yet
And spinning,
Woven somewhere,
Laced, enbroidered,
Pricked out,
Sketched.
Not quite becoming,
Hesitant.
You were and are a mirror of sorts, silvered, distant. A moon sailing through cloud. There, intimated, expressed, uncovered. A lapse in time. Time-lapse. Shutter speed. Blink. Blink. Forgetting,
Remembering,
Forgetting.
To whom belongs the face in the mirror?( Always looking a little surprised, a little disappointed). Of all the voices in my head, strange rainforest bouquet, there was, is, will be, one more calm, one more complex, a careful equation. News from Nowhere.

” Matter
is merely
mind
deadened
by the development of habit
to the point
where the breaking up
of these habits
is very difficult.”

Stubborn, fixed. It is alchemical. I, alembic, a host of raven wings and a lost crown of kings.
Here, it grows late. There: later or earlier. Those who watch, watch over the sleepers. Those who sleep, dream the waking world. Blink. It begins. Blink. It ends. The mirror remains a mirror reflecting upon what it is not. Blink. Turn away, it ceases. Turn back, it re-appears.
As if never gone away. As if never gone by. As if never gone.
Even, even, they say,
In a complete vacuum,
In a complete darkness,
No matter how dark,
No matter how hard they try,
They say,
There always, always, seems to be
Half a photon
Somehow
Remaining.
Light
Persisting.
(Just
A
Thought.)

—–

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Word of Earth (from “Recitation..”)

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on August 8, 2013| 8 Comments »

kali1e

WORD OF EARTH ( “geo- logos”) – a dream stream.

(from “RECITATION” (3)

Measureless are the layering of voices stratifying the night. A geology of language. A wisdom of the earth. A voice of weight. A voice of remembering. Mutterings over herbs and hunted, mutterings around campfires, incoherant weepings in empty spaces, rocking, rocking inconsolable.
The few
who have pushed through,
who have passed to the other side of the sky,
where the stars walk
on two legs, like people,
in brightnesss,
in brightness.
They find the rhythmic chants spinning out of the web along its thin, strong lines, its reliable patterns, its junctures. They weave and weave in and out of song, free to find and to lose form, to remember and to forget, but always to return to the axis, climbing their own spine-tree just for the view, just for the view.
In the dark,
snakes and daggers.
The hungry fingers, the hungry eyes.
To be sent out
and not to return home
empty-handed.
To never be bereft again, never that spun hollowness where power pulls to the edges and breathes itself away in a silence more devastating than sobs.
Click, clack,
the needles go.
Snip, snap
the shears.
She gathers up,
she gathers in,
she counts the knots,
she raises the winds.
She claps her hands and waves boil. The black cat weaves between her calves, purring. Patter, patter on the wet sand. The strings move deft between cold fingertips. A catching of moments. They are so intrigued, so curious like cats, like moths, these spirits clamber and elbow in to see more. Sticky wisdom traps them as flies. Their syllables mirrored and pronounced, taken from thin lips, pointed tongues, and turned, turned and shaped, malleable soul breath mingled to free the dreaming souls of drowned sailors anchored in the black, black starless deep.
They float and turn slowly.
Increments of light
bounce around empty eye sockets.
Teeth shed like wheat,
like barley, nicotine-stained.
Worn thin
and grazed by little fishes,
little fishes,
scoured by starfish,
bored by worms.
They rise and feel the release of water’s weight. They rise and rise, blow and shatter to powder, diatom dust. Turned song for whales, cathedrals of breathing space.
Oceans : just unfamiliar skies.
Skies : just uncharted oceans.
Skiff and wherry,
stars tacking dimensional tides,
solar winds,
trawling the chants,
the glimmer scale words,
the protection mantras, the seeds, the forms, the road home.

——

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Arched (part 7)

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on August 5, 2013| 2 Comments »

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ARCHED (Part 7)

Stone
Cast in,
Rippling
Time’s pool.

Outwards
And inwards,
A settled pattern
Of comings and goings.

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And the weight
Of the stone:
An anchor, a haven.
Small, still island
In a restless sea.

alder creatures boss

A forest for song.
A forest for silence.
A carpenter’s house,
A house of edge and curve.
A mother’s house,
A house of succour,
Of promises kept,
Of warm dark.

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Artificer’s jewel:
A design
Of forever.

—

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Arched (Part 6)

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 31, 2013| 11 Comments »

clasped1

ARCHED (part 6)

Footfalls,
Echoed whispers.

Slow light
Pools.

Names
Fading slowly.

—-

light2

A thin, cool shell.
A golden cup
For space.

Earth wells up,
Slow bubbled bliss
Under flags and brass.

Carapace,
Remnant, skull.

Outline echoing
Slain god outstretched
(still dreaming),
Vines growing
Through splayed fingers,
Fingers growing into mountains.

Eyes full of light
Coruscating, kaleidoscoping,
A replaying of memory
And sound.

Illumination of dark corners,
Interface and intersection,
Cavity.

Heart
Evaporated:
Chambers
Of song.

—-
quattrefoil screen

Stone’s song:
We, eloquent in edge,
Tumbling meaning,
Disguised as the living,
Guiding, naming,
Numbering the dead.

A condensation of merit
And tears, and beating blood.
A lithophone, an organ
For reverberation.
A song for endless sleep,
A cradle for dream.
An approximate eternity,
Outwearing centuries.

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Arched (part 3)

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 25, 2013| 2 Comments »

caverned1

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.

looking west

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Conversations with Invisible Friends (4)

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 8, 2013| 2 Comments »

Conversations with invisible friends(4). Herewith, before they get overlain with other things, another collection of bits and bobs inspired by the blog posts of others. For which I am very grateful….

BIG ROCK

Warm sun
And the dance of laughter,
Sinking deep.

(The weight of stone
Is its memory
Of moving things).

—-

MOTE

Speculation,
moving specks:
what is in my eye,
I see.
It may be clarity,
or clouded vision.
A message
or misinterpretation.

—-

ORIGAMI POEM

Fold mind
Fold sound
Find word
Sharp lines
Open, closed
Tip of tongue
Held between lips
This way
Then that way
Frozen form flows
Into paper.

—-

SOUND ANALYSIS

Great folds of rock!
A lovely beach of curled words
and washed reaches.
What is not “supplement”?
(such a French word
made clunky 3:4 ,
almost an engine jive
with a touch of 4:4
(that gear change between ‘n’ and ‘t’,
a secret hidden pause as the mouth adjusts).
Mouth music.

—

OLD PORTRAIT PHOTOGRAPH

Black and white
frozen light.

Eternalising
the inconsequent
moment.

LKeeping the fleeting
flicker of instants.

Remembering how easy
it is to forget.

Stealing souls or
letting them live
forever?

—–

WAITING ROOM (FUGUE)

When the real
Pushes hard
We slip shattered
Holding still.

Stretched
Transparent, even,
Beyond help
(though never really).

Timeless
Between events
Distanced, grey,
Ghosted hollow by
Too many endings.

Sloughing skins.
Abandoning identities
That fail
(as if they were ever
Sure or sound).

Uncertain of echoes..
–
Tracing grey worlds
Mapping consequences
Of beginning and ending.

Sloughing identity,
Ghosted hollow…
–
When the real
Pushes hard
We slip shattered
Holding still.

Stretched
Transparent, even,
Beyond help
(though never really)
Sloughing identity,
Ghosted hollow.

Somewhere
Weeping.

—

CELLULAR

It is cellular,
how the body grieves,
despite tutting mind,
bright-rouged beliefs.
It is the bones,
the guts,
mycelial nerves.
The hymn of cells,
eternal charnel and chantry,
never expecting anything
other than to pass on,
to pass on,
to cancel,
to forget,
to never forget.

—

ETERNAL EPHEMERA

How still
The lashes of your eyes
Searching words
How still

How long
The slow rise of your breath
Searching peace
How long

How fine
The enamelled morning
Blue, shadowed
How fine

How light
The dive of swallows
above buttercup shine
How light

How still, how long
How fine, how light,
This filigree life
Floating skywards

—-

SPILT LIGHT

Crackled clear
not yet broken.
Hold on or let go.
You will not be forgotten.

—-

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