(London, the 19th of July 2013)
I lay awake
In the dark room
Soaked in your stir
I think of you
A loom spinning
Amidst dresses
Splayed across the floor
Like pregnant seals
The dawn not yet a blur
You thump, strop and slam
Mining space for a pocket of order -
Are you filling a case
Or bracing in mortar
The broken soul
Of the castaway.
Heat came
(By Gub, the 19th of July 2013)
That heat came;
Alien
Element
In our otherwise
Tame and tidy world
And rattled
The thermostat
Of our lives
Temporary outcasts though
We were
From the nest
That shaped us.
Now with this
Furnace on our
Napes - we blunder
On and fail to close
The portal
So each day becomes
A tide of effort
Rushing up and down
The beach making
No headway -
We can only struggle with
The surge
The pebble bash
Back and forth
Amidst the
Froth, the curses
And where against
The barnacled stones
We come to rest?
And when can
Play resume?
Is a metaphorical and
Metaphysical test of
Strength as binding
And un bounding
As a simple
Quest
Home?
