Tangential (stumbled sketch)
TANGENTIAL (stumbled sketch) There: art, not a thing, not a, not owned. Flown. A consummation not consumed. A mirror mirrored. What gods do. Play innocent of consequence. What childen do ( when they...
View ArticleVeil
VEIL Here, embedded in small, lapsed Suspended moments, (Gossamer, silk, turning) Too early, too late, Webbed with inconclusive dream, Stirred spirallings, seed of wind and light. A weighing and...
View ArticleChapter Six Towards Equinox
CHAPTER SIX , TOWARDS EQUINOX As if to remain Were the price. Time tips And we tumble. Vessels pouring into vessels, Our sounds hollow, Certainties measured, Strangely vague. All and nothing, We stand...
View ArticleConversations with Invisible Friends (14)
CONVERSATIONS 14 HOW EASY Wonderful wonderful how easy a cat will purr how easy a flower will open and scatter how easy a smile how easy a hand how easy a good word leads the way becoming a vast flock...
View ArticleSunday Hymns
SUNDAY HYMNS What Is a language That is not spoken? Silence. Silent as the empty cottages, As the deserted fields, The grass-grown tumps, The heaped-up midden. Good men, great men and brave, One by...
View ArticleFlow
Hesitancy on the road. Many paths, choose one and run, or choose none, still taking one, ’til it bursts to flow, making itself, self-born, isolated in shattering glory. Language rivers, language...
View ArticleFragment
FRAGMENT (from Book Of Voices) These tides, these stratigraphies, These meridians, Slightly, gently shifting (boats on a small tide, moored lightly, Testing their freedom, anchored In hierarchies, in...
View ArticleNight Rain
NIGHT RAIN (Book of Voices) White noise, a rain of words (All drops reflecting whole worlds), But free from explanation, no discourse, no argument. Indistinguishable millions falling through darkness...
View ArticleScry ( in parts, various and strange)
SCRY 1 Small things From deep pools We rise. Vaporous things lifting, Turning, Weightless drifting. A lick and dissolve, Ice smoke, sighing, aimless Rise, spin, twist and dissolve, A white fade lift, A...
View ArticleIn the Beginning
In The Beginning.. Words bent to prayer And bent to slaughter (A willow woven, hazel bent Sturdy, slight vessel folded to itself). Sounds imprisoned And sounds emboldened, The revolution of meanings....
View ArticleThe Art of Silence
THE ART OF SILENCE folded breath a volume of murmurs that is all an understanding discarding options so as to mimic peace to sleep, dream or wake. to turn away from friction – a wishful free flow to...
View ArticleA Particular Device
A PARTICULAR DEVICE When we look so close at life inside us, it simply becomes a tree of madness where ghosts host and catcall, swapping bodies and their nightmare mysteries ( from which we have never,...
View ArticleA Truth That Believes
A truth that believes A truth that believes it is the whole of the truth Is a poison. There are ghosts In the dark, draughty attics Believe themselves Kings Who are owed. But it is not so. A point of...
View ArticleSunset 6 ‘Only One, and Not Even That’
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...
View ArticleSunset 10 (this some summer sunset)
SUNSET 10 (This Some Summer Sunset) This some summer sunset, Not enough of it even to work out Which what words and as to emotions, feelings, memories, It is a splash, a fat man’s belly flop Makes...
View ArticleLament
LAMENT The ones who cared for these graves Are in their own now, or gone To the churning, restless cities, Sick of rain and creeping moss And the lament of the kite And lamb and buzzard. Empty on the...
View ArticleIt is rivers
When they speak it is rivers. It is pines roaring in the wind. It is sparrows at daybreak, Swallows in blue open skies. It is the rain in old gutters. Vague as mist-hugged valleys. Harsh as ravens and...
View ArticleSomething to be said (Mayday)
SOMETHING TO BE SAID (MAYDAY) Pauses grow longer, a melancholy may soon creep in. We cannot escape our own voices. ( “We rarely go out these days and visitors, though longed for, are a great...
View ArticleTaliesin Sutras
TALIESIN SUTRAS A collection of rambles through hilly literature with strange, unexpected viewpoints. Could be developed or expanded, elucidated, made easier to understand, be given commentary. But the...
View ArticleThe Words We Collect
THE WORDS WE COLLECT It is the whispers in the walls, The ghosts that breath upon our lips. We dissolve, lost in sounds from elsewhere, From rooms, from halls. Left, empty enough, losing attention, We...
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