Tags
2012, 8*, alley, childhood, divorce, growth, Herbert Road, identity, life, lifetimes, mauve, music, pointlessness, reading, streets, Sunday, superhero, talking to myself, teaching, trees, writing
the spectre
titanic invisible but always close
always dissipating to a high street on a
Sunday afternoon shops closed
shall I proceed along the street maybe
shall I take another route through the alleys and back roads
shall I not be here at all
it makes no difference
everything is inert
everything is lifeless
everything is pointless
and when daddy left to live
another life
it was only then
that I had a name for it
invisible but always close
but I grew on
I became a superhero
and studied the frames
of a hundred different ways
to be fantastic
with a secret identity
only I
became the poet who saw the peaks
in others’ writings that broke the mists
I travelled far visiting the cities and landscapes
of others’ vistas in each shift of music
and only I
noticed the scrolling credits
of others’ lives
I married and fathered myself
bodhisattva to the lives of others
but they lived incidental
and carried me along for the ride anyway
I built a panacea for the art of teaching –
fading fast, not sure how long she can hold on – but found that it was a nathema
and all along was the writer
who rubbed off the film and grime
both here and there and found
the colours dark but radiant
and yes I should take
the alleys and backstreets
and notice the tall trees
shapely and mauve
and never noticed before
behind the shops
————w(O)rmholes________________________________|—–
childhood wormhole: ‘a walk up the path …’
divorce & lifetimes & superhero wormhole: wakey wakey / time to get up
Herbert Road wormhole: passing
identity wormhole: my struggle
life wormhole: my awareness / and growth / are like my abdomen
mauve wormhole: bench / corner of Cantwell Road / and Eglinton Hill
music wormhole: ‘the walking stick …’
reading wormhole: ontophilology
streets wormhole: The Smoker You Drink The Player You Get (1973) – tribute
Sunday wormhole: when
talking to myself wormhole: so much
teaching wormhole: dream / career / 040712
trees wormhole: stamina
writing wormhole: relationship
Waywardspirit said:
Behind the shops
credits
others lives
I’m carried away by these…
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m lewis redford said:
… on a magic carpet ride?
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Waywardspirit said:
You guessed
Gene?
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Bruce Ruston said:
It reads like a walk were you seen things a 100 time but still now there is a newness
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m lewis redford said:
ah yes – it is such a precious thing when someone reads so closely, thank you …
… also a walk back through time; in the 1970s EVERYTHING shut on a Sunday, the streets were eerily quiet
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Dizzy said:
I’m rather nostalgic in general… (Who knew? lol) I miss the world when it used to close shoppe. Get quiet. Go to sleep. You just don’t get those Scary Monster bus rides anymore, hey?
Yes, take the alleys and backstreets. I’ll most likely see you there. Just watch for the mauve I shan’t be far off… at all.
Recently saw something cool in my forest for the first Time. I’ve been going there 15+ years. Granted, it was an evolution, a work in progress. It didn’t just pop into being. Or, maybe, it did…? I don’t know how to paste the pic here or I would. All I can say is it looked like a tree spirit. Possibly sporting whiskers? I dunno?
So. REALLY ❤ your poem. I’m in the now. I like to really experience where I’m at. All you have to do is open your eyes, take the road less travelled and there’s a Cool World waiting for you. Just waiting for you. Or… conversely, my life can be just one heckuva flashback?! 😋 lol Either way? *shrug*
It’s full-on Halloween until the 1st for me. But I do have trouble staying away. Suppose I should post more on my own blog. I find everyone else infinitely more interesting than I find myself, hey, and my Time is finite at present.
Hope you have a spooky weekend! 💋
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m lewis redford said:
… a spooky weekend – with whiskers!
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