In the mist . . .

fog
lying on a distant ridge
fog light fog white
mysterious
grey
fading into
green

Read Full Post »

Firewood Plateau

1
Pale clumps of grass in shallow soil
cold winds out of the south for hours
and in the afternoon high clouds
white books that drift across the sky
wild birds like words sung into flight
a stand of trees in silhouette
the slant roof of a sleeping house
dipped in the deep blue ink of midnight
on the razor’s edge of dawn
faint rainbow [...]

Read Full Post »

Tarsya

formed in the core of a bursting star
and scattered on the winds of space
i am a windswept mountain peak
a grain of sand lost on a beach
a stone turned over in a field
a pebble in a rushing stream
worn down by weather and by time
i am the soil on which you stand
the underworld beneath the street
where worms [...]

Read Full Post »

Fertility is Emptiness

Intensities of bent invention
sidestep personal intention
on a hieroglyphic journey
through the drift into the dream core
through the crossroads
out a tunnel
as if on a ferry floating
on the waters of a story
past an empty railroad station
filled with ghosts and flickering memories
out onto the raven’s highway
under blue skies in the throne room
clouds like sombre silent kings
emerging as the daylight [...]

Read Full Post »

Gretel in Winter

Small flurries of forgetfulness
blow white through her declining years
as everything around her sinks
beneath the weight of snow.
In winter everything is simple.
Fading memories extinguished
form a dazzling empty backdrop
for the memories in colour that remain.
And all is well. Each note is right.
Each chord and harmony combines
to concentrate her straying mind.
The music of the past is hers.
Remembering again [...]

Read Full Post »

In Thunderbolt Pagoda

between the boredoms and the dark
in twilight as the doldrums strike
sometimes i look into my soul
and realise there’s no one’s there
and everyone i am has fled
delf sah ma i enoyreve
and then the music changes
and the room is just a room
and things are as they were before
and what i am is how i feel
and everyone is [...]

Read Full Post »

Who is Who

When I don’t have anyone to speak to
I’m so glad you’re here to speak to
and I’m glad that you’re my friend.
I dial your number on the phone
and call you and you sound so pleased
to hear from me I spill it out
I tell you everything
for hours on end.
Or else we’ll meet up somewhere later
for a drink [...]

Read Full Post »

Only Last Summer

(1967)
Long days spent with imaginary friends
in a field of cows obscured by clouds
beneath grey skies and stumbling home
down winding green lanes in the rain
through the mist and loneliness of England
peaking . . . coming down . . . still tripping
staring out a frosted window
tracing patterns drawing faces
in the foggy condensation
while a snake slides through your [...]

Read Full Post »

Fishing Port

From bridge to bridge, beneath the moon
a river flows and opens out
into a harbour. Ships and wharves
knock hollowly together
as the tide begins to turn.
Fear like a form of sentient fog
a cold and predatory throng
prowls through the twisting winding streets
on which each house in every row
seems like a crudely fashioned face
with lighted windows shining bright
for eyes, [...]

Read Full Post »

Funhouse

The black tar street is strangely lit
Harsh smoulders in the afterglow
Of words flung head high words like fists
Like fires lit in the wilderness
Harsh crackles underfoot the leaves
A child ran trampling through the woods
One lost and smoky afternoon
Harsh blisters in the memory
In silence ever deepening
An afternoon of fear and dread
When childhood woke into youth
And found it [...]

Read Full Post »