(By Gub, Toronto, the 13th of March)
...the dark arc of the firmament
This edge of fire,
Burns like phosphorous
Against a flotilla of stars.
Circle back
Through breathes
Of time
Capture each second of
Wakefulness,
Each nuance
Missed,
A child’s cough, a
Chuckle of laughter
Those red rose petals
Crushed flat by a kiss.
The shift in your gown,
As Love opens
That draft of bliss.
Drift through heaven
Alone,
The past
Behind me closes,
Home seems hopeless
And far
Ridiculous
Your closeness in my heart.
Time and space form a celestial
Body,
An unholy bar.
Tuesday, 15 March 2011
Thursday, 3 March 2011
3 Minute Poem
(By Gub, the 3rd of March, Toronto)
I'm drifting in
And out
Of this meeting
And wishing I
Could leave
My body,
My mind
Depart please
Now
Over
The sea
It's 4pm in my world and
Midnight in yours.
The women are droning
Horse-voiced
Wraiths
Dry and sharp
Arid
Humorless
I yearn
To laugh
Flex ribs
Around a
Funny cotton-reel
Wound tight around a
rubber band and a pencil
Play tanks across the grass
See you smile, watch our son
Roll down the bank
Our dog dive in and out
Of the daisies and butterflies
Flirt free....
I'm drifting in
And out
Of this meeting
And wishing I
Could leave
My body,
My mind
Depart please
Now
Over
The sea
It's 4pm in my world and
Midnight in yours.
The women are droning
Horse-voiced
Wraiths
Dry and sharp
Arid
Humorless
I yearn
To laugh
Flex ribs
Around a
Funny cotton-reel
Wound tight around a
rubber band and a pencil
Play tanks across the grass
See you smile, watch our son
Roll down the bank
Our dog dive in and out
Of the daisies and butterflies
Flirt free....
Wednesday, 2 March 2011
Spring Chorale
(the 2nd of March, 2011, London)
Just a little sunshine
Just a little push
A child's
Rhymed promise that
Crocuses will show
And leaves unfurl
Lush
Hailed freedom from
Basement entrapment
And straggled
Sofa encampment
A spirited stride
Into spring's
Chorale
To crush
The bitter seeds
Of winter
Exile
Just a little sunshine
Just a little push
A child's
Rhymed promise that
Crocuses will show
And leaves unfurl
Lush
Hailed freedom from
Basement entrapment
And straggled
Sofa encampment
A spirited stride
Into spring's
Chorale
To crush
The bitter seeds
Of winter
Exile
Monday, 28 February 2011
Uninvited
(the 28th of February, 2010, London)
I wasn’t invited.
At the banquet
I wasn’t offered a seat
No food was laid before me.
Empty
I watched others eat
And foraged for leftovers
When
Beyond replete
No one but me
Was left wanting
The excess meat of
Extravagance
Eyes alight
I wondered
What it would be like
To never question
Your right to be
To wear the seamless coat
Of entitlement
Like 'The Free':
With nonchalance
And grace.
The sure-footed.
Admire their solid ankles
Their feet
Heavy anchors
Secure against
The shifting sands
Of society.
The tilted chin
The assertive grin
They use up the space
Unapologetic.
They take their time:
Monologic.
Once you believe
There are Gods
Walking amongst us
Royalty
Unburdened by doubt
How would you not want
To neighbour them
In that exclusive
Dwelling of
Satiated
Sanctity?
I wasn’t invited.
At the banquet
I wasn’t offered a seat
No food was laid before me.
Empty
I watched others eat
And foraged for leftovers
When
Beyond replete
No one but me
Was left wanting
The excess meat of
Extravagance
Eyes alight
I wondered
What it would be like
To never question
Your right to be
To wear the seamless coat
Of entitlement
Like 'The Free':
With nonchalance
And grace.
The sure-footed.
Admire their solid ankles
Their feet
Heavy anchors
Secure against
The shifting sands
Of society.
The tilted chin
The assertive grin
They use up the space
Unapologetic.
They take their time:
Monologic.
Once you believe
There are Gods
Walking amongst us
Royalty
Unburdened by doubt
How would you not want
To neighbour them
In that exclusive
Dwelling of
Satiated
Sanctity?
Monday, 21 February 2011
Depart
(By Gub, the 20th of February, Toronto)
I had a dream
While you were sleeping
That the world was dead.
Aside from you
(And me) and
The things
In our heads;
Theo and Mia
And the houses
We loved and the kids
Staying over
And beaches
And barns
And camping in clover...
All safe from harm.
Safe in the story
The past
Our charm
To ward off
The warlocks
Keep evil
At bay
The unremembered
World dies
For sure
Recall the day.
I had a dream
While you were sleeping
That the world was dead.
Aside from you
(And me) and
The things
In our heads;
Theo and Mia
And the houses
We loved and the kids
Staying over
And beaches
And barns
And camping in clover...
All safe from harm.
Safe in the story
The past
Our charm
To ward off
The warlocks
Keep evil
At bay
The unremembered
World dies
For sure
Recall the day.
Sunday, 20 February 2011
Arrival
(the 20th of February, 2011, London)
Lay
Unfamiliar mound
With crumbs of
Dreams and
Tangled threads
To find
A way bound
Lagging way behind
Pursuit
Is a restless hound
I carry fear and
Hope that
All things missing
Will soon be found.
Ride
Taxis, planes
Underground trains
Cross
Bridges over parallel
Muddy memory lanes
Finally arrived
Shattered
I sink into your arms
Thawing snow dissolved into
Thirsty ground.
I'm not your rock.
Just hardened
Play-dough
Warming
In your hand.
Lay
Unfamiliar mound
With crumbs of
Dreams and
Tangled threads
To find
A way bound
Lagging way behind
Pursuit
Is a restless hound
I carry fear and
Hope that
All things missing
Will soon be found.
Ride
Taxis, planes
Underground trains
Cross
Bridges over parallel
Muddy memory lanes
Finally arrived
Shattered
I sink into your arms
Thawing snow dissolved into
Thirsty ground.
I'm not your rock.
Just hardened
Play-dough
Warming
In your hand.
Monday, 7 February 2011
Being Normal
(the 8th of February, 2011, London)
I hear your plea.
What you want
Is to navigate
Across the wheezing sea
You dream
Of that mythical land
Where only the Good
Can hear the paradise bird sing.
But all you have is
A toy boat -
An old wind-up
With a broken spring
I hear your plea
For I am a fellow
Pilgrim to that holy place
Peddling distance
Between myself and
The ugly, twisted face
Of my inheritance
I do fear though
That if I ever
Enter
This promised heaven
Where the sage
Are always on the same page
Normality
Will turn out to be
Nothing more than
A colossal gilded cage.
I hear your plea.
What you want
Is to navigate
Across the wheezing sea
You dream
Of that mythical land
Where only the Good
Can hear the paradise bird sing.
But all you have is
A toy boat -
An old wind-up
With a broken spring
I hear your plea
For I am a fellow
Pilgrim to that holy place
Peddling distance
Between myself and
The ugly, twisted face
Of my inheritance
I do fear though
That if I ever
Enter
This promised heaven
Where the sage
Are always on the same page
Normality
Will turn out to be
Nothing more than
A colossal gilded cage.
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