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Posts Tagged ‘waking’

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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.

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DREAM BETWEEN DREAMS

It shall be called
The dream between dreams.
It shall have the sound of rudra veena
Howling the low, long song
Of mountains.
A doorway that vanishes
In walls and moments,
Hunters of persistence and cunning
That track betweens
With such eager precision.

A sepia lithograph of ancestors
Scattered with scratched code.
A stuttered sunrise,
A mumbled equation.
Fragmented, woven storeys.
Intercepted thought-
A patterning of stars.

It shall take beauty to itself.
It shall wear a body
Suspended and gently packed
With birdsong.
It shall have a sunrise
Located in a northern way.
Magnificence untranslated and untranslatable.
A verticality, a rotation, a specific gravity.

Freed from the body
It twists to a certain extent,
A mind will take colours to itself
As murmurs of joy.
A shuffled deck of cards
(Where all images are constantly changing),
Vapour words uttered to themselves and gone,
Drawn from all tomorrows,
A suffering of beauty.

The rudra veena says:
“Music is the very means
Ye shall venture through vastnesses,
The telemetries of time and space,
Control panel of deity,
Bender of physics, answer to worlds,
Mating call of galaxies.”

The rudra veena is an instrument of South India, a pumped up, pimped up sitar, more growling even than the surbhahar ( a bass sitar). It has two huge gourds at either end, that wrap around the person holding it, and a long,wide fretboard. It has a monumental, alien sound in recordings. Live, it probably vibrates bones and deepest soul. Beyond human, the rudra veena is the player, human being the instrument.
( search ‘rudra veena’ into youtube and give yourself a thrill!).

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a href=”https://simonhlilly.files.wordpress.com/2013/05/frog-garden.jpg”>frog garden

1
pillow rain
blanket breeze.
dream fever.

2
dream fever
waking suddenly
heartbeat!

3
heartbeat,
ticking clock.
suspended weightless
between dream and sleep,
between day and night.

4
tangled drifting words
dream images
ticking clock

5
a tumble of words
dreams slipping away
this floating world

6
this floating world
sinking, bobbing,
rain-soaked curtains.

7
curtains of air.
moon behind cloud.
poet scribbling in darkness.

8
moving carefully
so as not to wake others-
it never works well!

9
the wind
the rain
tears well up,
sutras of hollowness.

10
wriggling dreams
half-formed.
aching heart.

—–

carp pool2<

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Solstice: words revolve a standing sun.

I

On Momentous Occassions.

Not to be missed.
A once-in-a-lifetime experience!
This breath.

II

The Pleasurable Joy of Insignificance.

A seed on the breeze
Safe floating
Away from reach.

So small
In the hands
Of the world.

So safe
Amongst the cloak
of stars.

So small
So safe
No threat.

Floating free
Insignificant joy
Sparkle of bliss.

III

Two weeks of rain.
Finally, the moon!
An embarrassed smile.

IV

Hemlock and mallow.
The dead revived,
Stretch thick green limbs.

Cat’s ear and wild privet.
The living exhale
To fuel the world.

Yarrow and blood poppy.
The skylark’s song:
Blue and vast.

The apple, the cherry,
Yet small and hard,
Dreaming of sweetness.

Elder, oh elder!
A circumference of passion,
Honey cream and pensive.

The thick warm air
Slow, turning.
The world wants not,
Waits not,
Curls and moves:
A sleeping cat.

V

When I look into your eyes,
Moon of Guru Purnima:
Silver ripples across my heart.

VI

Steady rain.
No moon tonight,
Except the disc
Upon which you dance,
Goddess of Wisdom.

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Another star poem:

NIGHT PATTERNS

Looking tonight
It was a child’s game,
A peasant’s carpet.

Patterns of light
Stuck on the slow swing
Of the sky’s bowl.
Refusing to flee farther
Than over the rooftops,
Beyond the field.

Try as I might
They adhere to old
Cosmologies:
Telling stories,
Whispering names,
Herding seasons.

Yet
One spark from a star
Lodged fast in my soul.
A splinter of light,
Lost tombed in my eye.
Quick burin of night
Engraving my brain.

As I lie now
Echoes sift
The skull’s dome.

Suspended
From a million threads
I turn slowly, slowly,
About a still Pole
Whose name is mine.

————-

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Followed by another night poem:

NIGHT RAIN, SUMMER RAIN

Ripening moon
Warming breath

Through race of wind
Sharp scent of stars

Rain-grass taste
Blue supper

Black towers
On whistling wheels
Wing, scud
Trundle
Timewards.

With their first lick
Our Lady’s sides shiver

Embraced in shouts
She melts and fades

As night rains
So silk fish leap,
Flash and ripple
On the water’s face

But She swings
Like silver
Wings
Like silver bell
Around the dark dome

Rings
Sings
Shakes light
Sinks shrouded

———

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Followed by two poems of waking:

HUNG AS A HAWK

Hung
As a hawk
On the cross-beams
Of tick-tock

Spliced
By light
With the blackbird’s
River

A slim wedge
Pricks this
Bubble bright
All-swirl

The riddle orb
Cascades.

The shadow flock
Leave whispers:
Pool worlds
Flash and floating
High and dry

Leavings
Purchased with oceans-
This blanket demesne
Whose senses
Night’s scythe
Dismembered

Strewn grains
They sprout
Strong cauldron

Tinker tailor
Whets and sews
Resurrection

Nerve and sunbeam
Weld the spark
To Jolly Roger’s
Skull and bones

Ahoy!
The Last Trump!
The Seven Citied Isle!

The five floodgates
Open.

R.I.P
Drowned
In daylight.

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THE SHELL’S SONG

So long lost,
Save what is saved
For the brave wave’s winnowing.

Cast on the drift,
Drowned in the deep oh,
Drawn down in sleep,
Slip the fathoms,
The far fathoms fine.

Tumble slow in motion,
Heels over head,
And leave to care
The coves and caves,
The sloping sand
Losing time in tides:
Each beach that speaks
The long waves reach.

Breathe green for aye
The deeps
No eye
Has seen.

Sink in seven seas:
The eighth ocean
Where fishes kiss
These fingertips-
The slow shoals
Of sweet dream.

Where stars fish
The deep green dream of hue,
The skein of scale,
Glimmer shimmer of tail.

The sigh
And sough of sea
Within the shell’s siren ear.

Sigh and sough,
Sigh and sough.

Now
Fish the sea’s eye
And rise on tide’s wings.

The wind-washed world
Calls the length of leagues
To the seaweed tangle
Of your thought.

Bleached shell
Rolls a line to and fro
And rising,
Floating,
Sleep ebbs away.

Eyes closed:
The shingle sounds
Of day.

——–

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