Here’s the plan:
Light the fire,
Lie under gravity’s
Perfect blanket
On grass
Lit grey by
Half moon;
Tag Archives: dance
Joy and the Quill
Wearing so perfect well
The charged emotions
Of every beat and every lyric
Who joins her, shares in
The choruses?
When she spins those
Distraction and Disguise
Rainbow flames its brief bridge
Of blazing colours across the April sky;
Sharp showers, darts of cold air.
From up here, atop one-time
Old Howe Ridge, long-time ago home,
Site of ancient farm and a school
That educated all and the one
It is impossible to see the distant,
Grey-cloud blanketed city in its role as
Industrialised, scarred prostitute.
Distance and spring rain are
Distraction and disguise.
We travelled between
Historic limes to get here:
An avenue where, much later,
Joyous wights will chance the
Wedding gambler’s dance.
Image:twistedsifter.com
The Orange Genie
In my head of course
I’ve always been
Master of the
One-legged,
Turn-around,
Tumble-down
Snake and shake shuffle
Between platform five
And the fantasy gun
I aim at the midnight sun.
A Little Mayflower Business
I am planning to be absent for a while.
Planning to swing from cloud to cloud
Across the waters and
Along forest and city trails
On da Vinci’s imagination,
Hold the Future Closer.
Before colours could bleed their
Confidence-trick confusions
Into the new day
The wandering hidden people danced;
Danced to celebrate reaching
Season-border clapper bridge.
Dressed in sliver and grey motley they
Wove loose-limbed,
Long-step patterns around
Rippling pyres of tall, blue pale flames.
The world around lay fierce-choke quiet,
Holding a night-long breath:
Yet I felt the music:
Echo-ghost voices of deep-jet whales,
Ice-heart sibilant percussives,
Vibrations of undiscovered stars,
Chorus winds of dragon-banner conflict.
They shunned me not,
Showed gentle respect and,
Though I know I will not meet them again,
I no longer neither doubt not fear
Their presence here,
For they belong as much as we –
And I hold the future closer, tighter now.
21/2/2013
Related articles
- Tarr Steps: 3,000-year-old bridge ‘where the devil sunbathed’ is rebuilt after floods washed away two-tonne stone slabs (dailymail.co.uk)
- 3,000-year-old bridge known as the Devil’s sunbathing spot is washed away as 2012 comes to a very wet close (thisismoney.co.uk)
- Tarr Steps gets a mention (loiselden.com)
A Million Children
A million happy children
Live in that patterned, souvenir jar;
The one at the bottom of the garden
That held summer evening
Honey scented candles
And future talk fantasies.
A million, maybe more,
It’s really impossible to count.
They perpetually dance in
Their stained glass world
Of pure spectrum colours
Listen, oh so carefully, and you
Will hear them sing,
Sing in joyful tongues,
Under eternal sun,
Believing their fairymoon dreams –
Why not? –
They do not suspect that the
Wide base of the jar
(Carelessly left out in merciless early frost)
Has become detached,
Is missing, indeed.
They have such innocent trust,
Living in splendid abandon:
Why would we
Tell them any different?
What would be gained
By us or them?
4/2/2013
The Brightest Apes
January is a time-torn storm,
Roaring vortex doorway of the year;
Watch-storm wizard,
Wind-both-ways blizzard.
The past is new,
The future a fossil;
Flakes of white are
Memories gone and
Those not yet lived.
We stand on the threshold,
Smug, for after all,
We are the brightest apes.
We stamp-dance, fret or weep
Like small children,
Powerless, startled and chilled;
A little a-feared,
Over-faced, overawed and overwhelmed:
The brightest apes,
the most intelligent fools.
25/1/2013
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