fragment from a handheld device #10

withal

she turned and walked away

fast

toes pointed straight ahead

fragment from a handheld device #5

who would know better than we

to fear

the ones who come in boats?

Simply (the river)

 

(fragment):

      its water comes from the ocean
      travels across the sky
      leads to the mountain

the river is always and only

beginning

its water comes from the sky

its water comes from the ocean

its water comes from the mountain

its water comes from

the river

the mountain is

the mountain

the river

is the river

the sky is a cupped hand, palm

turned towards the ground

let us gather all our sadnesses

in that.

Arian Tejano is for me one of those poets whose work often provokes a powerful and immediate desire to engage and respond.

these lines speak directly to his poem Simply, at his blog ANoiseless Patient Spider

they also serve..*

  (a sonnet for Anzac Day)

With all the rest you stand and wave,

and from your summer dress your arm

exalts and lifts your brave

heart too, as striding down the palm-

strewn avenue they come to raise

you up.  With fluttered hand you bring

them on;  your fingers writing praise

and lifting voices up to sing.

You raise your arm to wave,

and in its secret hollow:  blue.

Still smooth from your last shave -

and this so very mortal part of you

just in this moment makes things good.  It makes things well,

and makes a lighter journey of the heavy steps from hell.

*from John Milton's sonnet   "On His Blindness"  

foucault's pendulum

the Huma bird

(may its shadow touch us)
      it is said, once it has
taken to flight
      will not

alight

     until at last it must
fall
     back


              to
        the rocks which bore it.

no perch
no roost
no tuck of
                            head
           beneath
wing


foucault's pendulum
completes no circles
 

it is the earth that moves.

fragment from a handheld device #1

there is a flavour of air, in each September,

that tips me down a rabbithole, now

more than twenty-five years long.

i greet it like the mother one must love.

 these lines directly inspired by Karuna Chandrashekar, at her blog Hysterics and Poetics

enlarged, enveloped, and allowed to breathe at Maekitso's Cafe

cannonballs

we float

      arc’d

  we are

     calculated mid-flight

        our past:  a curved conception

          of perfect beauty

               we are

                  an equation

                    our present:  a sum

                       of averaged and intangible points

                         and infinite tangents

                           described

                            with perfect beauty

  

                                we are

                                  a mathematical purity

                                    our future:  ordained

                                      by the plane which cuts

                                       our paper hats.

                                        parabolae.

                                         we are parallel.

                                         para- ll -el.

                                        parallel. 

                                      infinite in

                                     approachment

                                    rapprochement

                                   reproachment

                                  but always

                                 and finally               

                                unable  to  touch

                           at apogee burned, blinded by light

                         wings already melting.

                        at perigee, in ageless dark

                       stuffed down the barrel; buried

                     near the target

                    and  So  so    cold.

                  subject to

                the gravity

              of the situation

           surrendering to the fall

            

            arc’d

like cannonballs

advice to travellers

whenever you come upon a well

you should lift its bucket to your lips

and drink deeply.  wells may be few,

and far between.  thirst

is always nearby.

when lost at sea always sail

in the direction of the dragons, sea- serpents,

and mer-people.

they have escaped, as you must, the cage

of latitude and longitude.

when in a foreign city, take care.

to be wordless is not to be silent

and you are shouting at the passers-by.

when you meet a stranger

offer a name.  it is harder to do harm

to another whose name one knows.  do not

offer your secret name.  it is easier to do harm

to another whose secret name one knows.

do not seek to know names.

never draw a map in hope

of helping a friend to find you.

when you have drawn a map in hope

of helping a friend to find you,

keep it safely in your pocket.   points

of departure can be tricky, destinations

are trickier still, and maps, and people,  and other things,

are so easily mislaid on journeys.  besides,

no doubt your friend already owns a map

and will not thank you.

if you find yourself in a desert

looking at a shining city,

head towards the shining city.

if you find yourself in a shining city

looking at a desert,

head towards the desert.

if you find yourself at home

drink deeply and then

cover your well.  admit no travellers.

beware.

if you go to any city, or desert, often enough

or stay long enough

it will become a lover, and

travellers are the death

of lovers.