dedication / prayer

 

 

 

                                                   dedication
                                                   prayer

                                   not in ambition
                                   not in despair

                                   but in the open
                                   centre of the

                                   universe ever
                                   revolving going

                                   nowhere which
                                   is both wholly truly

                                   and nothing to do with
                                   me

 

 

 

giving wormhole: guru

 

but there …

 

 

 

                                stuck in Sunday
                     build-up of olive-green and damson anxiety

                     lost the freshness of my next breath
                                stuck in a lifetime

                                of Sundays
                     lost the freshness of my own birth

                     but I have glimpsed
                                it isn’t like this

                                my whole life
                                              isn’t like this

                     but my whole life
                                is all I have

                                how can I let it
                                              all go

                                                              but there …
                                … I missed

                                my own birth
                                              again

 

 

 

olive wormhole: Birmingham / 030413
Sunday wormhole: the spectre
anxiety wormhole: sit stay heal

 

dream / 140603

 

 

 

                                          dream
                                          140603

                                we have had another baby

                                I seem to have delivered it
                                          on my own
                                it is Joe born
                                          four years old
                                but older Joe is still alive
                                          somewhere

                                later I deliver
                                          another baby
                                this time a girl but I need help
                                          to cut the
                                          umbilical cord
                                she seems to be Nan
                                          born four years old

                                she asks if she is
                                          going to meet ‘Nanny’
                                excited, wouldn’t it be funny
                                          if she met
                                                      herself

 

 

 

dream wormhole: dream 100213
Nan wormhole: the zen of grandmothers
Joseph wormhole: by

 

thy will be done

 

 

 

                                                   thy will be done

                                                   not in my works
                                                   but in my nature
                                                   that works tumble
                                                   forth like emotion

 

 

 

compassion wormhole: Birmingham / 030413

 

have got // can do

 

 

 

                                                   have
                                                   got

                                   listen
                                   very
                                   closely
                      to what is being presented while
                                   fitting
                                   it to
                                   the
                                   hier-
                                   archy
                      with agreements and connections to
                                   streng-
                                   then
                                   the
                                   domain
                      that you dwell in and identify its
                                   full
                                   body

                                                   can
                                                   do

                                   the details
                                   the legacy
                      the way things are done
                      the way to get round them
                                   to constantly
                                   rehearse what
                                   you know
                                   on the hoof
                                                   feeding
                      off the declarations wrapped up
                                   ingeniously in
                                   adventitious
                                   discussion

 

 

 

society wormhole: dream 100213

 

easily

 

 

 

                                          there is the message
                                          there are the words

                                          the message cannot
                                          be put into words

                                               easily

                                          but when the words
                                          stack up by themselves

                                          the meanings flow
                                          through like water

 

 

 

part of >>> writing & being
meaning wormhole: for so long

 

the discovery of / leaving no trace

 

 

 

                                              the discovery of
                                              leaving no trace

                                the harder I try the wronger I get
                                and there is so much that I have tried so hard at
                                that I thought I could define myself through
                                that always end insufficient

                                              and let’s face it
                                I am of no consequence at all
                                              in so many hard-earned ways
                                I am of no consequence at all
                                              quite unnoticeably so
                                I am so completely inconsequential
                                              nothing to notice
                                              nothing to respond to
                                doesn’t matter what I do or say
                                              or think or not

                                that I really ought to give up
                                              trying
                                and let the things happen by themselves
                                              that I would be

 

 

 

compassion wormhole: coffee shop

 

‘once upon a quarter century …’

 

 

 

                           once upon a quarter century
                           the beat and heart of teaching
                                thousands of birds
                                through all time
                                come to the ancient tree
                           was quantified immeasurably
                           inverse to a fading quality
                                generations now of
                                magpies and crows
                                who bring dispute
                                and change and sit
                                in the tree making
                                loud noises
                           all the better to make the numbers rise and fall my dear
                           consistency and behaviour to within an inch of its life
                                droppings in the branches
                                droppings down the trunk

 

 

 

birds wormhole: mlewis diptych

 

Eglinton Hill

 

 

 

                                     Eglinton Hill

                           the end of Autumn sunlow above the hill
                                     shining down the wet tarmac

                           cars drive slowly up sun visors down
                                     upper mouth open squinting
                                                   cheekbones

                           the oaks have lost their leaves now
                                     apart from the furry ivy
                                     that clothes them
                           you can see more of the river
                                     now below the branches

                           and while cars pull in and out of Dallin Road
                                     when it is quiet
                           a young child shrieks a chasing game
                                     in and out of the front garden
                                     with her brother

 

 

 

a room in the House on Eglinton Hill
autumn wormhole: mlewis diptych
oak wormhole: mlewis diptych
Thames wormhole: Bonus Books

 

tired – diptych

 

 

 

                                                              tired

                     from sleep
                                   dream about to fight someone
                                                   poke my fingers in his eyes
                                   couldn’t control a class
                     even when angry
                                                   tired
                                   from looking for meaning
                                                              when writing
     drove 150 miles
                                                   nothing magical
                     no gorges of grey cloud
                                   to brace my fresh and steely view
                     sunny day
                                   people stupid
                     all acting lost to their wondrous nature
                                                   I, tired
                     and lost to my wondrous nature through judgement
                                                   stupid stupid stupid

 

                                                      ~ ^o^ ~

 

                                                              the Batman
                                                   is on a mission and a vow
                     absorbed and meticulous
                                   in every activity
                                                   the vow to strike fear
                     the mission to make justice
                                   even if he has to do it himself
     all without knowing his wondrous nature
                                                   at all
                     which cause his shadows and nemeses
                                                              to arise
                                   manifest and garish
                                                   askance and twilight-mirrored across town
                     the Joker – his freedom and adjustment
                                   denied and let wild
                                                   the Riddler – his doubt and guilt
                                   refused and shot with worm
     the Penguin – his child and hurt
                                                   abused and reviled by hope
                     the Catwoman – his love and beauty
                                                                      un-held and awkward to speak

                                   he climbs the outside of buildings
                                                              stupid stupid stupid

 

 

 

part of >>> Batman
travelling wormhole: travelling is fresh
mirror wormhole: ‘small town busy …’