Monday, 30 May 2011
Monday, 23 May 2011
Wednesday, 18 May 2011
hanging poets
uneven afternoon unlacing the poets
cutting the twine
unwinding tiny bits of wire
floating words laid flat
go home carrying my holey writers
Friday, 29 April 2011
Monday, 25 April 2011
record of secret visitors
who in a certain spirit
claim the place their own
how many coats can a tree have
before I recognise its make
unpruned, overgrown, knolled and prickled,
growth struggling from the ends of trawling branches
gifts to this unknown tree
for going through these uncertain seasons with me
who in a certain spirit
claim the place their own
how many coats can a tree have
before I recognise its make
unpruned, overgrown, knolled and prickled,
growth struggling from the ends of trawling branches
gifts to this unknown tree
for going through these uncertain seasons with me
Friday, 8 April 2011
the bare tree starts to shudder into life
those tiny bows tightly
ruched and gathered along the branches
a pale is-it-green warble of change
butterflies hold still
a quake in the air
there is a swarm somewhere in the thatch
thrumming thrumming thrumming
hypnotic swirl of bees
I take a path away
a few in my hair make temporary homes
then threshold over into the cloudless blue
those tiny bows tightly
ruched and gathered along the branches
a pale is-it-green warble of change
butterflies hold still
a quake in the air
there is a swarm somewhere in the thatch
thrumming thrumming thrumming
hypnotic swirl of bees
I take a path away
a few in my hair make temporary homes
then threshold over into the cloudless blue
Monday, 4 April 2011
monday april 4 Tash Bidgood visit
someone bowing in the dock leaves
black-coated
a worshipper in open view
a pilgrim of the low flowers
softly capturing
with a click of care
black-coated
a worshipper in open view
a pilgrim of the low flowers
softly capturing
with a click of care
Wednesday, 30 March 2011
Tuesday, 29 March 2011
Monday, 28 March 2011
spring hawthorn
glittery branches float
air-heavy shimmer
sleep
breathless quality of trailing threads
sharpness of touch
taloned and grasping
dangerous squiggle of generosity with a thorny heart
air-heavy shimmer
sleep
breathless quality of trailing threads
sharpness of touch
taloned and grasping
dangerous squiggle of generosity with a thorny heart
Tuesday, 22 March 2011
Sunday, 20 March 2011
Friday, 11 March 2011
March 10 Earthquake japan
sun arrives on this mildly extravagent spring moring
sky striped with white
rough chalk sketches, lining the blue with line-messages
as if we were drawing a bowl of string against the sky, around the earth,
so many, someone could pull the end and tighten...
the world is parting company with itself
sky striped with white
rough chalk sketches, lining the blue with line-messages
as if we were drawing a bowl of string against the sky, around the earth,
so many, someone could pull the end and tighten...
the world is parting company with itself
Monday, 7 March 2011
Thursday, 3 March 2011
march 3
this human earth
Are we as alive as each other -
this human earth
creature or leaf
bone or apple
brick or tongue
I turn the pond upside down
and lay it flat on the sky.
Like a weightless, million-skirted wasps nest
who can tell what depths they both hold
I have to return to certain worlds.
Oh earth, hold me up as I find my way down.
Are we as alive as each other -
this human earth
creature or leaf
bone or apple
brick or tongue
I turn the pond upside down
and lay it flat on the sky.
Like a weightless, million-skirted wasps nest
who can tell what depths they both hold
I have to return to certain worlds.
Oh earth, hold me up as I find my way down.
Monday, 28 February 2011
feb 28
the fall of day
still chill
old dinner-plate grey clouds
flip and wiget of wings of the nesting bird in thatch
lisp of one higher in the air
the curling one
clipping and sighing, dancing and simpering, kettling, rambling, ticking, chucking,
mixing, delegating, jumping,
jittering around the valley
the edges mute up as light leaves
a silent swallow gently flippers across the sky
still chill
old dinner-plate grey clouds
flip and wiget of wings of the nesting bird in thatch
lisp of one higher in the air
the curling one
clipping and sighing, dancing and simpering, kettling, rambling, ticking, chucking,
mixing, delegating, jumping,
jittering around the valley
the edges mute up as light leaves
a silent swallow gently flippers across the sky
Thursday, 24 February 2011
february 25
4 visits later
this morning - sun, two dogs appearing more scared of me than me, with their trecker doing her round,
gratitude is shared
to have a boundary
to have no boundary
to have this world to hold me up
light turns and colour bathes the view
dense, damp, drying, jumping, laughing, strumming, slipping, sectioning, dripping, marveling, musing,ricocheting, deep sound of woven bird language, cows, hawks, trucks, dogs and droning cars, a yawning mow, a tripping rapid release
all this noise greets the sun!
Someone in the two days has chopped back the growth of thorns and reeds
two mornings earlier, a mist, a soggy trip
a visit with Leslie and Scarlett and talks of the event for May 8th
Judith and I and our day with no preparation and its unflowering
this morning - sun, two dogs appearing more scared of me than me, with their trecker doing her round,
gratitude is shared
to have a boundary
to have no boundary
to have this world to hold me up
light turns and colour bathes the view
dense, damp, drying, jumping, laughing, strumming, slipping, sectioning, dripping, marveling, musing,ricocheting, deep sound of woven bird language, cows, hawks, trucks, dogs and droning cars, a yawning mow, a tripping rapid release
all this noise greets the sun!
Someone in the two days has chopped back the growth of thorns and reeds
two mornings earlier, a mist, a soggy trip
a visit with Leslie and Scarlett and talks of the event for May 8th
Judith and I and our day with no preparation and its unflowering
Monday, 14 February 2011
february 14
a slice of sun
an edge of cloud
a lung of life
a twitch on my ragged soul
the littering of catkins
upright and bright
yellow and true
every breath held
give back
my lung of life
my edge of cloud
my slice of sun
an edge of cloud
a lung of life
a twitch on my ragged soul
the littering of catkins
upright and bright
yellow and true
every breath held
give back
my lung of life
my edge of cloud
my slice of sun
Monday, 7 February 2011
February 7
the bare hawthorn ghosts against the yew
like old dresses-
taken away,
leaving the stitches-
little lobs, snitches, knotted lines-
Delicate as long gone perfume
Its blurred outline crimped and lonely.
Revealed only by the greenbacked yew.
I hear a rock band of wind
a dropping, cluttering, bird of noise
the restless traffic of air
It all sways-
cloud to tree to grass to brick
the doors flurry and smash, shocking the walls,
fly and warp like leaves
reverberate and shift
It rushes up
even in the gloom and groan
winter is usurped
like old dresses-
taken away,
leaving the stitches-
little lobs, snitches, knotted lines-
Delicate as long gone perfume
Its blurred outline crimped and lonely.
Revealed only by the greenbacked yew.
I hear a rock band of wind
a dropping, cluttering, bird of noise
the restless traffic of air
It all sways-
cloud to tree to grass to brick
the doors flurry and smash, shocking the walls,
fly and warp like leaves
reverberate and shift
It rushes up
even in the gloom and groan
winter is usurped
Friday, 28 January 2011
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