Recalling a childhood
Family or authors?
Sad to say no contest
Flowers I love for
They leave me be
So sing me to sleep then
Then sing me awake again
O sing me to death and back
Before sheepishly I cry wolf
Both before and then after
Bayed, bays, bays and shall bay
“Have you splayed and displayed?”*
Lately lapsed warden strayed
Way far beyond the garden fence
Among the shadows in the wood
Took an unexpected turning
Somewhere down the line
Washed up hereabouts drowning
Within my own drying bones
While the near by is far awry
Empty of troths
Until one lone day
Alone no more
Retired to lick my wounds
Noli me tangere
No mean danger
No bedroom headroom
Time to fight my own fight
Overstand the web of soul
For flowers I love for
They leave me be
* “For those of you who live elsewhere “Have you paid and displayed?” is a common sign in English car parks, referring to purchasing a ticket from a machine on arrival that needs sticking on your windscreen to cover a specific time period.” (https://365project.org/casablanca/365/2017-06-03)
GLASS UPON GLASS
One glass reflects
Another glass refracts
Another sends us spinning
Adrift in a hall of mirrors
And in the ashes … phoenix
CORNER OF THE EYE
(A touch of faery sight)
I see, and not quite see, this sleek man in blue
Quietly through the oak woods of Sunart,
(Just so, as through your own mind now),
The whispered past and the roaring futures.
Green rock, black root, the boulder house split,
Door leaning ajar, and the elders:
Roof and walls of a tumbled croft,
And hearth music in the song of insects
That drub the late summer air
In the folded waiting of the far north.
Listen to a tuning fork, high and clear struck.
The sense of it continuing on, a breath on sound,
A pulse of wingbeats. That is how it feels,
Stepping between the path and the oak
And the high larch, and the dripped lichen.
Watched by the timeless, curious eye.
Gone, to them, in a single blink,
As they to me, a flit of mind
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“When the eye is unobstructed, the result is sight. When the ear is unobstructed, the result is hearing. When the mind is unobstructed the result is truth. When the heart is unobstructed, the result is joy and love.” – Anthony De Mello.
BECAUSE OF THE RHYMES
Like the Doctor says,
“Poetry, physics, same thing.”
Who’m I to argue?
Illustration by Arushi Gupta
Forgiveness is giving up all hope of having had a better past.
– Anne Lamott
If Hope were a guest I would lock her in a cellar.
If Hope were a movie I would not eat the popcorn.
If I saw Hope on a sidewalk, half broken, I would keep on driving.
If Hope knew the real me she would run screaming.
If Hope were a digestive biscuit she would be full of animal fat.
If Hope attended your wedding you can be sure you’ll end in divorce.
If Hope were sitting here I would tell her I want her back.
If Hope saw me naked she would say, We’ve got work to do.
If Hope found this poem she would burn it.
If Hope were a bartender everything would be on the house.
If Hope were a fruit she would be an apple.
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