Saturday, December 3, 2011

Dawn overslept

Dawn overslept
rubs eyes
opens curtains of night
no apologies for london plane trees
naked leaves with foliage down
 rumpled at feet
as if stepping from cold morning ablutions
 late november's mist and drizzle

i with camera coaxed out of doors
 breaking hush in dim twilight
senses at point
 scan shrubbery for opportune takes
there! amongst ruddy lance-shaped leaves
 pearly droplet clinging to branch
pulsing with urge to let go! did i or did i not .....
 like heartbeat of quivering life
recorded in digital image
 i may hold original finitely in electronic stasis
as it was and never will be again
 aware how gods or no gods
we may enter and be touched by beyond
 beyond what commonly seems to exist
and quench our longing in uncommon splendour

December mmxi

Sunday, October 23, 2011

Of love

     Of  love
               so quick to tongue
     be wary
               tis for young to learn
     we fail by falling
               in and out
     qualified to earn
               how happy     how sorry

     subject to poet's metaphor
               this esteemed estate
     where selves subsumed
               fall under sway consummate
     beyond fancy or expectation
     opening out
               what we share commonly
     and how different
               to meet     to hear     to explore
     this fair intimacy
               arriving through hardihood and puissance
     at matched experience
               cherished in contemplation
     and enjoyed as it unfolds
               so to let be let be
     let become what becomes


Friday, October 21, 2011

of origin ...

... being of itself utmost bounty
calls originality into being
In the beginning
          was the thing most and only alike itself
most alike what it was
          and the beginning
being original arose out of its own spontaneity
          so the beginning was
and always is the beginning
          which we are wont to call right and good
not being able to dance upon the point of π
          harmonious proportion
being itself as itself in every way

you and i     sue     are of that seed and flowering
          being ever alike and not alike
and endowed with a sense of proportion
          in order to declare thisisthis and thatisthat
we shape into particular things     single or many
          each a novel identity even in likeness
droplets of the infinite flux and endless flow
          which are never lost or estranged
except incidentally or to themselves hapless
          for the fulness of being known
is itself being itself in every way
          through spontaneity dancing upon the point of π
or finding own selfhood when seeming most lost


Wednesday, October 19, 2011

Tich, on guilt

From Tich Backhouse`s Confessions

Whan i feelz a spazm o`guilt comin`on, i sez to mesen, Tich, me lad, that horsewhip aint yore owen, tiz relick ob your forefaderz who knew no better, treated thissenz like wild beasts.
So i takes me orf t Blaxmitz Armz fer a pint o wallop ter show i iz kind t dumb animulez.


Monday, October 17, 2011

Hey luv

    Hey luv     let us go a-jaunting    o
        when the red-cheeked sun
in her walking-out attire
        rises laughing over the horizon

scooting by watchful hawk and eagle
        down to the jaunty seagull's hangout
rocky shore    sandy beach    weedy marge
        where tireless tide's urge to push and pull
from bygone sagacity rules
        poseidon's fishy realm and aphrodite's foamy origin
where awareness begat sentiency

yes    our home too: briny and ozone
        whose thriving presence invigorates
while we alert and observant    pole and peer
        thrilled    and often chilled    never want for wonder
for this is a force beholden to no-one
        and like love    provides and demands
generous and severe

L.E.A., mmix

Sunday, October 16, 2011


Take the eye of mind
the longing "i"
the knowing "i"
explore its subtle self
as in a scrying glass
lit by the lantern of the psyche

enter the cavern of the cranium
at the threshold of awareness
where shapeless musings
beckon at the ports of insight

i have explored the passages of self
braved the introspective dark
undistracted by spectral fantasies
in antiquated dress
which spell-bind with doomsay and revelation
those who peep
then look askance

i learned to step ahead
with ear attuned to resonances
echoic as in a void
and slept inside the tomb of yesterday

where sunlight creeps into the eastern hall
there i awake to life
and mingle with that throng
of feelings thoughts appearances
that market-place
my personality
where i belong
my self-meant territory

early 60s, rev. mmxi

Friday, October 14, 2011

body aint what it were

  He didn't ask
  what state
  how low
    he felt
  not himself
  no escape
    his body's travail
    on mundane labour
  slumps in chair
    sees hand
  between thumb and forefinger
    map like vellum
    where veins and skin
  in perspective
  terrain of age
    state he fell in
  poor sod
    his body
  distressed by pain
    demands recognition
  and yes
    briefly mended
  he'll disregard
  and suffer
  known as
    old duffer


Wednesday, October 12, 2011

In company of angels

In company of angels
no doubt music
medium of heavenly expression
for sounds born of where why what if
would be clucked out of marble halls
imperilled as they are with uncertainty

thuswise we keep our feet on ground
under doubt's contrary shadow
in purposeful endeavour
to wring out of refractory consonants
and arbitrary vowels
what stands in for
what is behind standing in for

affinity found by imagination
beyond witness reason
can with agreement
no question raised
join our divided parts
and arrive where wisdom fails
discovering in womb's
combobulative song
eloquent tongue
our throats with wingèd chords
leaping through lusty strains
will dare angelic choirs
exhuberant response:

hail ye boo-ba-boo yeah ...!