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Title: Whispers
Author: Paul Cameron Brown
Release date: September 26, 2009 [eBook #30101]
Most recently updated: October 24, 2024
Language: English
Credits: Produced by Al Haines
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WHISPERS ***
Whispers
By
Paul Cameron Brown
Copyright © 1977 by Paul Cameron Brown
All rights reserved
All rights reserved
CONTENTS
Part IRAIN FILM9 UNDULATE, MY TONGUE
10 RAIN FILM 11 ISLES AND RIVULETS 12 SEAWARD 13 MALINGERING 14 VOYAGE 15 CHRYSALIS 16 THE BELLS 17 THE WORLD OF DYING LOVE Part IIWHISPERS19 DARKENING GREEN
20 WHISPERS 21 TRESPASS 22 FOREST SPITTLE 23 SEAGULLS 24 LA DOUCE MER 25 GOURDS 26 RESIGNATION 27 THE BREATH OF CANDLES 28 GREEN EYE SHIELDS 29 INVESTITURE 30 THE SPOKEN WORD Part IIITESTIMONY32 SMEARS
33 TESTIMONY 34 FORTRESS SNOW 35 CIENFUEGOS 36 DEVASTATION 37 BEE AN APPLE 38 EMPTINESS 39 CLAWS 40 MOON DARK WORLD 41 THE ELYSIAN FIELDS 42 BARBARY WHITE Part IVTHE BURNING44 PENCIL SKETCHES
45 EMPTY WARRIORS 46 THE KEEPER OF THE JEWEL 47 ROWING WITH CRAYONS 48 COLLUSIONS 49 GOSSAMER THREADS 50 A FACE 51 THE BURNING Part VTHE GATHERING OF DEAD WOOD |
Part I
UNDULATE, MY TONGUE
My tongue undulates, a wave to shore,
knocks a vigorous reef,
then slides to sea once more.
The coral pink horizon of the mouth,
cavernous shores,
my tongue laps pier white teeth
in servitude like an oar.
Heavy drifting, bobbing as a buoy,
the tongue sinks slowly down before
surprising saliva
going ashore.
[9]
knocks a vigorous reef,
then slides to sea once more.
The coral pink horizon of the mouth,
cavernous shores,
my tongue laps pier white teeth
in servitude like an oar.
Heavy drifting, bobbing as a buoy,
the tongue sinks slowly down before
surprising saliva
going ashore.
[9]
RAIN FILM
On the night of the rains,
water was oozing out from
the sky's swollen stitches,
a rash developed across
the meaning of the heavens.
The wooden floors of my attic place
strove for a deeper tone,
a hoarse calling
grew louder as I paced
trying to see rain.
I followed the gravity of the treasure hunt
where each bounce meant a slap
across a table top of tension,
where the window basted winter black rain
and silence paid another call.
I am as much as this water flower, rain.
I am as impressionable as the city that stops for rain.
And I lack the same substance that dooms water to be
a soft pillow feather; excepting this,
I may still shatter this thing, March routine existence
by dabbling in destruction.
[10]
water was oozing out from
the sky's swollen stitches,
a rash developed across
the meaning of the heavens.
The wooden floors of my attic place
strove for a deeper tone,
a hoarse calling
grew louder as I paced
trying to see rain.
I followed the gravity of the treasure hunt
where each bounce meant a slap
across a table top of tension,
where the window basted winter black rain
and silence paid another call.
I am as much as this water flower, rain.
I am as impressionable as the city that stops for rain.
And I lack the same substance that dooms water to be
a soft pillow feather; excepting this,
I may still shatter this thing, March routine existence
by dabbling in destruction.
[10]
ISLES AND RIVULETS
On your brow, the steppes of Asia
are fetched by deep set eyes.
A colouring distict with mystery
perceives the Polos greeting the Great Khan,
the golden isle of Ciphangu, the sultry east.
I revel in the mystery
of my warm, wet flower.
A pollen bee laden with honey
squirms, embraces with me,
in the abrupt opening of our jar,
serrated edge of the known world.
The air, buoyed and elastic with pleasure, belongs to me.
Tawny, pale rose, your oriental skin
peels back
the tiny veils separating our cultures.
I peer in to find Confucian
lilac, towers of silence,
opal pheasants.
Harmony strains all dogmas.
Rain darts penetrate the gathering pools.
The tiny plastic cup
my life,
inseparable from your hand.
[11]
are fetched by deep set eyes.
A colouring distict with mystery
perceives the Polos greeting the Great Khan,
the golden isle of Ciphangu, the sultry east.
I revel in the mystery
of my warm, wet flower.
A pollen bee laden with honey
squirms, embraces with me,
in the abrupt opening of our jar,
serrated edge of the known world.
The air, buoyed and elastic with pleasure, belongs to me.
Tawny, pale rose, your oriental skin
peels back
the tiny veils separating our cultures.
I peer in to find Confucian
lilac, towers of silence,
opal pheasants.
Harmony strains all dogmas.
Rain darts penetrate the gathering pools.
The tiny plastic cup
my life,
inseparable from your hand.
[11]
SEAWARD
Whirl of patterned images,
deep seascape painting
hovering,
rustle, chokecherry
grown in
dark pigmented
stunted cove -
animal growl of pilotless sea,
metallic twinkle of sun
bright, stealing
bitter white
all bird life
rockward;
traces skimming
the intrusion
of pebbly shore,
autumnal night.
[12]
deep seascape painting
hovering,
rustle, chokecherry
grown in
dark pigmented
stunted cove -
animal growl of pilotless sea,
metallic twinkle of sun
bright, stealing
bitter white
all bird life
rockward;
traces skimming
the intrusion
of pebbly shore,
autumnal night.
[12]
MALINGERING
Malingering,
increase drift
of censure
infrared blotted one.
No noise, just
the splashing of the sea
endless, shrill
birds
gaping a way
into the night's chill.
[13]
increase drift
of censure
infrared blotted one.
No noise, just
the splashing of the sea
endless, shrill
birds
gaping a way
into the night's chill.
[13]
VOYAGE
The mystique of the sea,
where waves act as snares,
hang boughs over wet
blackness wherever winds
die driven ashore.
Melancholy vastness-
its pleasure the
dim lights swallowed
in glutton happiness
the further I search
the sea.
[14]
where waves act as snares,
hang boughs over wet
blackness wherever winds
die driven ashore.
Melancholy vastness-
its pleasure the
dim lights swallowed
in glutton happiness
the further I search
the sea.
[14]
CHRYSALIS
Fury of chrysalis, or crepuscular caterpillar's roosting nest,
Fidgeting cocoon dry in annoyance and the reptile caress
Of empty sound.
See it near the trestle,
Above broad November leaves,
Before winter's closing eye.
Comatose pupa, infringing
In dormancy well primed,
And charged with action
Its focus, brittle reality,
Distant life unaware around even itself.
Waiting, the syringe filled ecstasy is
Barest of autistic treasure
Satiate, 'til spilled and
Molten over toughened silken hide,
The outer dormitory
Hustles to rejoin
Compost spring
Controlling a tidy, energy world
[15]
Fidgeting cocoon dry in annoyance and the reptile caress
Of empty sound.
See it near the trestle,
Above broad November leaves,
Before winter's closing eye.
Comatose pupa, infringing
In dormancy well primed,
And charged with action
Its focus, brittle reality,
Distant life unaware around even itself.
Waiting, the syringe filled ecstasy is
Barest of autistic treasure
Satiate, 'til spilled and
Molten over toughened silken hide,
The outer dormitory
Hustles to rejoin
Compost spring
Controlling a tidy, energy world
[15]
THE BELLS
The dangling of bells
...amid faint tingling,
the inspirational nature of their lies
between each peal.
Classical repertoire, then dryness.
Heavy swelter, the green ore
iron casting of the golden bell
clangs into the night.
Its dash against dry stone
a special brand of hideousness.
Naked madness,
the jangle of the noise
torn from the throat of night,
tucked between the rage of sightless villagers;
their torn members
toys of plastic
wedged obscene within the dash of withered bells.
[16]
...amid faint tingling,
the inspirational nature of their lies
between each peal.
Classical repertoire, then dryness.
Heavy swelter, the green ore
iron casting of the golden bell
clangs into the night.
Its dash against dry stone
a special brand of hideousness.
Naked madness,
the jangle of the noise
torn from the throat of night,
tucked between the rage of sightless villagers;
their torn members
toys of plastic
wedged obscene within the dash of withered bells.
[16]
THE WORLD OF DYING LOVE
The long finger of blackness is holding its head for us.
Dingy bue is its shade,
comatose in movement, hazarding a slow swiftness,
it inches toward us.
Relief comes fitfully.
The dragon alone, an upstart
crowned with drunken spending,
has horse colours as ribbons with his eyes.
It cradles a breast of trembling bone.
Misercorde, Misercorde.
I dreamt I saw skeletal slackness
dangling;
the poverty of touch is a casket with love in rumbling sockets.
Craziness is the passion of the engulfed,
dribbling pleasantly.
Presentations extended beyond and into themselves.
Slackness schemes with invalid awareness
in a brothel of hope.
[17]
Dingy bue is its shade,
comatose in movement, hazarding a slow swiftness,
it inches toward us.
Relief comes fitfully.
The dragon alone, an upstart
crowned with drunken spending,
has horse colours as ribbons with his eyes.
It cradles a breast of trembling bone.
Misercorde, Misercorde.
I dreamt I saw skeletal slackness
dangling;
the poverty of touch is a casket with love in rumbling sockets.
Craziness is the passion of the engulfed,
dribbling pleasantly.
Presentations extended beyond and into themselves.
Slackness schemes with invalid awareness
in a brothel of hope.
[17]
Part II
DARKENING GREEN
My mind, rarely with me alone,
parts with energy,
the floor boards scuffed
and landing beams just
roosts big enough for pigeons
on leave from fields
darker for their grain.
[19]
parts with energy,
the floor boards scuffed
and landing beams just
roosts big enough for pigeons
on leave from fields
darker for their grain.
[19]
WHISPERS
Suppose and this is just supposing,
though it is a supposition of the highest order,
I were to die tomorrow
A roar denoting silence?
At work, if tradition is the dictate,
something eulogistic would find itself being said.
I am more calm.
I perceive their layers more shrilly.
Past the lipservice
and shocked surprise,
whispers, rumours and
the grapevine would bruit
around a different legacy.
And the open bier?
An embrassassment.
What more could be left unsaid?
[20]
though it is a supposition of the highest order,
I were to die tomorrow
A roar denoting silence?
At work, if tradition is the dictate,
something eulogistic would find itself being said.
I am more calm.
I perceive their layers more shrilly.
Past the lipservice
and shocked surprise,
whispers, rumours and
the grapevine would bruit
around a different legacy.
And the open bier?
An embrassassment.
What more could be left unsaid?
[20]
TRESPASS
I would imagine
the eyelids fail,
fall closed, shut,
as icicles sit
on porch doors
where old nails rust.
[21]
the eyelids fail,
fall closed, shut,
as icicles sit
on porch doors
where old nails rust.
[21]
FOREST SPITTLE
The preciseness of that little moment,
bowler eyes in hot, top rays
effervescent through
spongy forest gloom,
the wet of the happy
unreconciled with the dry outside.
[22]
bowler eyes in hot, top rays
effervescent through
spongy forest gloom,
the wet of the happy
unreconciled with the dry outside.
[22]
SEAGULLS
I see many thoughts from a window.
Seagulls in the fashion of summer
and leaves as they quit the year.
Sense impressions, if they are this,
are only images
of what we refuse to follow.
[23]
Seagulls in the fashion of summer
and leaves as they quit the year.
Sense impressions, if they are this,
are only images
of what we refuse to follow.
[23]
LA DOUCE MER
Too greedy hormonal levels,
savouring drives and swooned walrus tusks
behind the deep belly
of tireless sea,
propel ocean crates
looser for their water
than blood
to devour cavernous shores,
swilling miniature inland
sweet water seas that
father Champlain called
douce mer lakes;
dubbing there a blow for courage.
[24]
savouring drives and swooned walrus tusks
behind the deep belly
of tireless sea,
propel ocean crates
looser for their water
than blood
to devour cavernous shores,
swilling miniature inland
sweet water seas that
father Champlain called
douce mer lakes;
dubbing there a blow for courage.
[24]
GOURDS
A cemetery overgrown
such that each tombstone is a pauper fungus
crowded, dark with leaves,
or hollow gourds hideous,
in a forest sleep.
[25]
such that each tombstone is a pauper fungus
crowded, dark with leaves,
or hollow gourds hideous,
in a forest sleep.
[25]
RESIGNATION
Petals that fall into a woodland pool
are servers at a banquet.
Each one dresses for the occasion
like an employee with regrets,
that leaves the house in a somber mood
the morning after his resignation.
[26]
are servers at a banquet.
Each one dresses for the occasion
like an employee with regrets,
that leaves the house in a somber mood
the morning after his resignation.
[26]
THE BREATH OF CANDLES
The breath of candles,
hot and murky,
on the still air.
Giant factories wave wands
in luxury;
contaminate roving commuter bands
brown, from dirt knitted through white bread hair.
[27]
hot and murky,
on the still air.
Giant factories wave wands
in luxury;
contaminate roving commuter bands
brown, from dirt knitted through white bread hair.
[27]
GREEN EYE SHIELDS
I have stars drying in my eyes.
Heavy seas, in wind.
They have sealed me from the heavy
dragging sockets, otherwise my green eye shields.
I have scars all over my eyes,
to bear the horrible imaginings
that try to come through.
The horror of being alive.
The crusty scenes that pry into trees
glide down, touch me,
a glitter of awful gold steals me,
in its triumph of glow.
[28]
Heavy seas, in wind.
They have sealed me from the heavy
dragging sockets, otherwise my green eye shields.
I have scars all over my eyes,
to bear the horrible imaginings
that try to come through.
The horror of being alive.
The crusty scenes that pry into trees
glide down, touch me,
a glitter of awful gold steals me,
in its triumph of glow.
[28]
INVESTITURE
Our nights have cruel eyes
And have cast us about too thinly,
Fallen upon us,
Divested the attention of the wind.
Night comes to develop us,
Will polish our minds with
A precision lasting 'til daybreak.
Its damp coolness peaks with wretched effect.
Autumnal decay
Whereby the slow process of vegetation
Displeases the nostril,
Is but a preamble to greater violence
Leading tepid legislation in an orchestra
Toward greater effect.
The thin harmony of our lives
Positions no alarms whereby
We might use them.
The fabric mixture of existence, nothing but investiture,
Props to heighten necessary lies,
Strains at extinction,
The volcanic instrument life itself.
Goals are these same vehicles
To operate weak desires.
Frustration defeats a goal
That will not fit.
[29]
And have cast us about too thinly,
Fallen upon us,
Divested the attention of the wind.
Night comes to develop us,
Will polish our minds with
A precision lasting 'til daybreak.
Its damp coolness peaks with wretched effect.
Autumnal decay
Whereby the slow process of vegetation
Displeases the nostril,
Is but a preamble to greater violence
Leading tepid legislation in an orchestra
Toward greater effect.
The thin harmony of our lives
Positions no alarms whereby
We might use them.
The fabric mixture of existence, nothing but investiture,
Props to heighten necessary lies,
Strains at extinction,
The volcanic instrument life itself.
Goals are these same vehicles
To operate weak desires.
Frustration defeats a goal
That will not fit.
[29]
THE SPOKEN WORD
I touch your face -
where strands of whispery hair
dangle your thoughtful gaze through mine.
Clutching,
all the words not said
lie pale and broken
beneath forgery lies.
Eyes, our facial minnows, the mirror
images, flash too brightly
out of the shallows,
out of their stony commitments
towards believing
we cannot agree.
[30]
where strands of whispery hair
dangle your thoughtful gaze through mine.
Clutching,
all the words not said
lie pale and broken
beneath forgery lies.
Eyes, our facial minnows, the mirror
images, flash too brightly
out of the shallows,
out of their stony commitments
towards believing
we cannot agree.
[30]
Part III
SMEARS
TESTIMONY
When snow falls, there lives
the shrill cries that
leaves are not alone.
Each flake, a mute testimony
not a leaf falls before
surgery prunes the individual tree.
Cold November after
brown and white conspire,
the forest leaves a bleeding crust,
scar tissue from natural wars.
[33]
the shrill cries that
leaves are not alone.
Each flake, a mute testimony
not a leaf falls before
surgery prunes the individual tree.
Cold November after
brown and white conspire,
the forest leaves a bleeding crust,
scar tissue from natural wars.
[33]
FORTRESS SNOW
The embankment lies as heavy
edges on our lives.
The shadows of the rock,
piled drifts huge monotony's ledge,
accumulations by the side of the tree
wear thin visages;
the breath of summer eclipsed.
Snow reigns supreme;
teeters about the rim
of the city's existence.
Pettiness of man's realm -
pretty foliage of the transient,
wrappings upon our lives
brittle near the storm.
The reply of the eternal,
fire on stone
blazons reality
the peaked remains
of snow streaked sun.
Immensity governs us;
clarity of the temporal
fire set by the staccato
of man's rhythm.
[34]
edges on our lives.
The shadows of the rock,
piled drifts huge monotony's ledge,
accumulations by the side of the tree
wear thin visages;
the breath of summer eclipsed.
Snow reigns supreme;
teeters about the rim
of the city's existence.
Pettiness of man's realm -
pretty foliage of the transient,
wrappings upon our lives
brittle near the storm.
The reply of the eternal,
fire on stone
blazons reality
the peaked remains
of snow streaked sun.
Immensity governs us;
clarity of the temporal
fire set by the staccato
of man's rhythm.
[34]
CIENFUEGOS
The white pin wheel of heat turns up the grasses' edge.
Some dried plant stalks shrivel,
then melt openly into layers of fire.
It is end - time for the community's Christmas trees.
Something akin to burnt offerings,
reluctant souls or
hedging captives kept alive
ghoulishly for some cannibal's feast;
this festival of crackling.
They have served their purpose, now.
Bound, no faggots need be applied.
Contumely, the quiet desperation darkens
the child's face.
The headlights rain down on Christmas' debris.
A hundred little fires as cigarette warnings
daub the night air.
The forest of smoke, canyon of the torch,
where black marauders poke the nostril.
[35]
Some dried plant stalks shrivel,
then melt openly into layers of fire.
It is end - time for the community's Christmas trees.
Something akin to burnt offerings,
reluctant souls or
hedging captives kept alive
ghoulishly for some cannibal's feast;
this festival of crackling.
They have served their purpose, now.
Bound, no faggots need be applied.
Contumely, the quiet desperation darkens
the child's face.
The headlights rain down on Christmas' debris.
A hundred little fires as cigarette warnings
daub the night air.
The forest of smoke, canyon of the torch,
where black marauders poke the nostril.
[35]
DEVASTATION
Little red berries are
the crop of this stump tree.
They are the prize stubble
where little growth is come.
A transplant of hair after
a serious illness
or after fire ravages
the body's wilderness
is that first sip of broth taken.
Little by little, they bring cautious
hope that more will
stumble into other pocket crevices,
the bits of life amidst the spores of stillness.
[36]
the crop of this stump tree.
They are the prize stubble
where little growth is come.
A transplant of hair after
a serious illness
or after fire ravages
the body's wilderness
is that first sip of broth taken.
Little by little, they bring cautious
hope that more will
stumble into other pocket crevices,
the bits of life amidst the spores of stillness.
[36]
BEE AN APPLE
The taste of an apple,
the cringing of a bee
as sun stops turning
a ladle over their skins;
the fire gold stains
on apple's skin,
the honey yellow, black bits
a hornet wrinkles in.
[37]
the cringing of a bee
as sun stops turning
a ladle over their skins;
the fire gold stains
on apple's skin,
the honey yellow, black bits
a hornet wrinkles in.
[37]
EMPTINESS
The threadbare uniforms
we let stare at others
we would refuse ourselves.
The bare walls, misunderstanding,
Support nothing,
taut empty sounds.
The inclusion of everything
excludes nothing
except why it was done.
[38]
we let stare at others
we would refuse ourselves.
The bare walls, misunderstanding,
Support nothing,
taut empty sounds.
The inclusion of everything
excludes nothing
except why it was done.
[38]
CLAWS
Unfolding gazes
throw over
the little reality
surly door.
The dumb
clatter
of ripples
shudder the better life.
[39]
throw over
the little reality
surly door.
The dumb
clatter
of ripples
shudder the better life.
[39]
MOON DARK WORLD
The trees
are forming hands
to cloak the sky
with pillow whispers,
until the soft equilibrium
behind laughing eyes
departs down the moon dark world.
[40]
are forming hands
to cloak the sky
with pillow whispers,
until the soft equilibrium
behind laughing eyes
departs down the moon dark world.
[40]
THE ELYSIAN FIELDS
The Elysian fields
gained commensurate with ability
quiet and shimmering in the sun;
varied realms
inverted islands
the angry blessed ones -
thrice born with
the option to survive
on into flesh and blood form.
The conveyer belt of souls
carrying the damaged ones
far into the night,
spitting out the lukewarm
with plenty of latitude
to manoeuvre
in between.
Lavender and the dye from purple shells
in piercing shrieks
extracting the enacted will
of Nietzscheans before their time;
fledglings in a world
ill begotten and
barely within a choosing.
[41]
gained commensurate with ability
quiet and shimmering in the sun;
varied realms
inverted islands
the angry blessed ones -
thrice born with
the option to survive
on into flesh and blood form.
The conveyer belt of souls
carrying the damaged ones
far into the night,
spitting out the lukewarm
with plenty of latitude
to manoeuvre
in between.
Lavender and the dye from purple shells
in piercing shrieks
extracting the enacted will
of Nietzscheans before their time;
fledglings in a world
ill begotten and
barely within a choosing.
[41]
BARBARY WHITE
How death will steal, from life, to claim us all,
Happy to wrap us in barbary white,
By tapping ash tight fingers, the steel laws of fate,
Will deaden our faces, wrapping our feelings from earthly sight.
[42]
Happy to wrap us in barbary white,
By tapping ash tight fingers, the steel laws of fate,
Will deaden our faces, wrapping our feelings from earthly sight.
[42]
Part IV
PENCIL SKETCHES
Staying home,
I caught naughty elves
watering my piano,
growling inside my head.
Faucet drops
beating out in harmony a drum tatoo
to the tune of a plugged drain,
the careless postures of indifference
retold lives lived on spindle shanks
caught on the obligatory
insipid train
of obliging a pantry full
of ones you love.
[44]
I caught naughty elves
watering my piano,
growling inside my head.
Faucet drops
beating out in harmony a drum tatoo
to the tune of a plugged drain,
the careless postures of indifference
retold lives lived on spindle shanks
caught on the obligatory
insipid train
of obliging a pantry full
of ones you love.
[44]
EMPTY WARRIORS
The jungle where the meow goes in, is
a forest for hoodlums.
Trucking up, the empty warriors
breakfast on lost impatience,
apricot fields away.
Now see them speed away.
Their lollipop cars drizzling in the sun.
Their apathetic stares really cantaloupe harvests,
left too long in the sun.
[45]
a forest for hoodlums.
Trucking up, the empty warriors
breakfast on lost impatience,
apricot fields away.
Now see them speed away.
Their lollipop cars drizzling in the sun.
Their apathetic stares really cantaloupe harvests,
left too long in the sun.
[45]
THE KEEPER OF THE JEWEL
The keeper of the jewel.
I file it down,
keep it smooth.
I can be found any day,
busy disguising the
jaded and unproved.
I follow forget-me-nots
in a forest pool.
I undo knots
in groves of shallow trees.
I pretend unfit sores can sit
alongside water smoothed
pebbles in a sunlit stream.
[46]
I file it down,
keep it smooth.
I can be found any day,
busy disguising the
jaded and unproved.
I follow forget-me-nots
in a forest pool.
I undo knots
in groves of shallow trees.
I pretend unfit sores can sit
alongside water smoothed
pebbles in a sunlit stream.
[46]
ROWING WITH CRAYONS
I see children rowing with crayons
across a park lagoon.
They are sagging,
they have just killed a blackbird playing:
the lot of you,
scribbling to school.
Later on, I retrieved
the pieces of paper, ink covered, from a field.
[47]
across a park lagoon.
They are sagging,
they have just killed a blackbird playing:
the lot of you,
scribbling to school.
Later on, I retrieved
the pieces of paper, ink covered, from a field.
[47]
COLLUSION
A surtax on the ecosystem;
so many raindrops, mists
and bud breakings
record spring days,
that the movement of sap
fluids and other vital
juices involves all life on a colossal
scale; beyond puny human understanding
why green shoots shed restrictions
at the parochial level.
[48]
so many raindrops, mists
and bud breakings
record spring days,
that the movement of sap
fluids and other vital
juices involves all life on a colossal
scale; beyond puny human understanding
why green shoots shed restrictions
at the parochial level.
[48]
GOSSAMER THREADS
I feel like cutting my finger,
hiding upside down
clinking a canteen
shelling peas along the floor.
From the focal point above
anything could be.
Light dripping upon
forlorn gossamer spreads
like a balloon.
Merely the vantage point
of a perspective
quietly threading.
[49]
hiding upside down
clinking a canteen
shelling peas along the floor.
From the focal point above
anything could be.
Light dripping upon
forlorn gossamer spreads
like a balloon.
Merely the vantage point
of a perspective
quietly threading.
[49]
A FACE
A face in the mist, with rain around,
clings to bare leaves frowning.
A face through the mist, convulsed,
plays stationary, perching from twigs.
A face, not knowing it, trust it is good.
[50]
clings to bare leaves frowning.
A face through the mist, convulsed,
plays stationary, perching from twigs.
A face, not knowing it, trust it is good.
[50]
THE BURNING
The sun is a burning magnet on the water.
Durable, our boat is a sizable pretzel in the arms of the bay.
Warmth with contortion, the clash of passions
tug the funnelled swooned water.
Greenery, that inlet of the ocean,
lies precarious and submerged.
Life, subsidized by water,
is within its hope, bubbling in embers,
froth drunk with suds
hammered against the boat's edge.
What is this, this sky
home of the transparent sun.
Blue agony,
burning up with delerium,
the wet pastel illusion slides against our craniums.
Crass, crass the movement of the waves
across a low bow, excessively pleasant.
All the more
troubled vistas
blue with hegemony over earth,
drowsiness dropping a plague of lapping edges;
a strength pried from graves.
This sea of ours sags, heaves in deep
displacement, fulfills my liquid caress.
[51]
Durable, our boat is a sizable pretzel in the arms of the bay.
Warmth with contortion, the clash of passions
tug the funnelled swooned water.
Greenery, that inlet of the ocean,
lies precarious and submerged.
Life, subsidized by water,
is within its hope, bubbling in embers,
froth drunk with suds
hammered against the boat's edge.
What is this, this sky
home of the transparent sun.
Blue agony,
burning up with delerium,
the wet pastel illusion slides against our craniums.
Crass, crass the movement of the waves
across a low bow, excessively pleasant.
All the more
troubled vistas
blue with hegemony over earth,
drowsiness dropping a plague of lapping edges;
a strength pried from graves.
This sea of ours sags, heaves in deep
displacement, fulfills my liquid caress.
[51]
Part V
GREEN ANGELLIGHTS
Green angel lights
stream from the willow tree,
in direct symmetrical bearing
three birds are drawn to it.
In gold, soft patches
of light overreach
the earth,
shadows trace ridges
to surround each teak blown colour.
With fakir lowliness,
the throb of water
takes petals from
the sun,
shimmers its passing breath
to a euphony sobbing
in movement.
[53]
stream from the willow tree,
in direct symmetrical bearing
three birds are drawn to it.
In gold, soft patches
of light overreach
the earth,
shadows trace ridges
to surround each teak blown colour.
With fakir lowliness,
the throb of water
takes petals from
the sun,
shimmers its passing breath
to a euphony sobbing
in movement.
[53]
EYES INSIDE
THE HYDASPES
And I, cooing in my saddle, with lost time.
His weapons and horses the finest.
Beloved of God, engendered fiercely
for the occasion -
with pin stripes
and a drinking vessel
of the most expert silver.
Pharaonic splendor,
ingots of the heaviest gold
borrowed sun bright yet so untarnished
they hold up the morning sky.
Two hands encase that handsome volume -
finest of imported leather and
saddle soap transparent to the eye
so that all might ring forth
its belated vision;
not be dreary earthed with brine
but terse,
furtive inside the gathering glade.
[55]
His weapons and horses the finest.
Beloved of God, engendered fiercely
for the occasion -
with pin stripes
and a drinking vessel
of the most expert silver.
Pharaonic splendor,
ingots of the heaviest gold
borrowed sun bright yet so untarnished
they hold up the morning sky.
Two hands encase that handsome volume -
finest of imported leather and
saddle soap transparent to the eye
so that all might ring forth
its belated vision;
not be dreary earthed with brine
but terse,
furtive inside the gathering glade.
[55]
SLEIGH BELLS
In fury, come the Heavens,
the days, our horsebells
upon a crystal sleigh.
Up slowly until,
the horse carriage wet
and coming up the evening
walk pauses; then snow
before a vanished world.
[56]
the days, our horsebells
upon a crystal sleigh.
Up slowly until,
the horse carriage wet
and coming up the evening
walk pauses; then snow
before a vanished world.
[56]