Science lesson

 

 

 

                                          Science lesson

                                          the brass tap of the gas
                                          outlet the earthenware
                                          brown of the rubber tube
                                          connection the blue flame
                                          within the Bunsen burner
                                          but through the wide
                                          window so many new
                                          reaches of the silhouette
                                          branches into the
                                          sapphire blue sky

 

 

 

Roan school wormhole: ‘the importance of …’
blue sky wormhole: the bench / on the fourth sister from / Birling Gap before the / wind-brushed scrub and gorse / and the grey-blue sky / smoothed through the / fishtank-blue horizon to / grey-green sea

 

the bench / on the fourth sister from / Birling Gap before the / wind-brushed scrub and gorse / and the grey-blue sky / smoothed through the / fishtank-blue horizon to / grey-green sea

 

 

 

                                                              the bench
                                              on the fourth sister from
                                              Birling Gap before the
                                              wind-brushed scrub and gorse
                                              and the grey-blue sky
                                              smoothed through the
                                              fishtank-blue horizon to
                                              grey-green sea

                           one sugared
                           deep purple
                           blackcurrant
                           fruit jelly

 

 

 

bench wormhole: possible
blue sky wormhole: school uniform
Eastbourne wormhole: varnish
horizon wormhole: my life / of others
purple wormhole: 1967
sea wormhole: objective intimacy
stillness wormhole: at the apex
walking wormhole: dropped ’till you’ve shopped

 

school uniform

 

 

 

                           school uniform

                      grass too deep and green
                           to consider colour
                      stick to the tarmac grey
                           and blue to the step
                      and redbrick and flint stone
                           high to the window
                      small and greensky to reflect
                           and then

                      some boys by the ancient oak
                           have found a
                      natural high crouch and count
                           to twenty jump up
                      and someone pulls you tight around
                           the solar plexus
                      prolonged drift before blackout

 

 

 

Greenwich Park wormhole: ‘the importance of …’
Roan school wormhole: grammar
oak wormhole: grammar
blue sky wormhole: grammar

 

grammar

 

 

 

                           deep into the thinnest pages
                           soft as clean-cut sheets opened
                           either side stepped gently to
                           easy at-ten-tion typeface slightly
                           Edwardian-fine disciplined and
                           careers-old always supported by
                           slightly rubbled covers maybe
                           green maybe blue maybe
                           brown and embossed title
                           and publisher’s crest

                           tireless examples of grammar
                           with locating particularities which
                           only knit into a texture of
                           communication when gazing out
                           through the window at the
                           oaks and elms of Greenwich Park
                           and the deep grey skies over London

 

 

 

Roan school wormhole: dream / career / 040712
gold wormhole: grey air
oak wormhole: Eglinton Hill
blue sky wormhole: morning

 

A206 / Plumstead Road: / perched on a wall

 

 

 

                                                   A206
                                          Plumstead Road:
                                          perched on a wall

            it’s when I wander off

            looking for the angle
                      that will see me straight
            looking for the time
                      that will connect me to my
                                birth
            looking for the change
                      that shows how things
                      are still the same
            looking for the step-aside and crossing
                      that will vindicate my notice

            that I’ll have missed
                      the miles and miles
                      I have walked

            not to mention the street tree here
                      square in its own plot of land
                      before shoals of roaming car
                                its trimmed branches reaching
                                from its sturdy trunk
                                          variously into the sky

 

 

 

a street corner of … Woolwich
walking wormhole: strangers
Plumstead wormhole: bench / corner of Cantwell Road / and Eglinton Hill

 

sunny morning

 

 

 

                      after a night
                                   of no electricity where
                                   the carpets seemed like floorboards
                                              and we snuggled together in bed
                                                              un-asleep

                                              sunny morning

                      high high in the sky
            a wide band of cirrus cloud
                      allows the whole world
                                   to move its rooftops beneath it

                                              more direct
                      a jet trail cuts into it – no
                                              above it –
            drifting at fifty miles an hour
                                   I look back into my book
                      then glance back out at the poem

                      the cloud
            has magnified as it settles behind
                                   the rooftops chimneys treetops
                      the jet trail nowhere to be seen
                                              I’m sure I’d noticed it

 

 

 

chimney wormhole: wide-open / concentration
reading wormhole: the spectre

 

“I / am Spartacus”

I am sorry everyone, things are going into a bit of a meltdown for me these past few days.   I think I need to take a break from posting and reading for awhile.   Get some perspective.   Remember how to breathe.   Á bientôt.

 

 

 

                                                                      “… I
                                                              am Spartacus”

                when mark redford spoke
                                everyone listened to their own plans
                when mark redford offered
                                everyone wanted something else
                when mark redford calculated
                                everyone assumed they had the answer anyway
                when mark redford went quiet
                                everyone carried on ignoring him

                mark redford steps on solid clumps of ground
                                floating in space crumbling at the edges
                                exposing the roots
                under                 and within
                                a shifting greymauvesky
                                with liquid bands of oliveochre merging

                mark redford is lost presumed missing
                                I am not mark redford
                                long live Mark Redford

 

 

 

… and if you’d pruriently like to see what it looks like for a teacher to be riddled then dissolved through the sheer and only power of of ignorance, have a look at the jaunty little site of http://ghostteachers.wordpress.com/

breakdown wormhole: twenty five / year career

 

in a / single / lifetime / sitting

 

 

 

                                                              in a
                                                 single
                                              lifetime
                                sitting

                                the snow
                it just keeps on coming down
                                as I just
                sit here, before I sat here and under a wide
                                grey sky
                as far as can be seen

                                millions
                                millions of specks
                mostly uniformly slanted down to the left together
                     some twirling but still left
                          some bigger but still left
                               some wafting off the edge of rooftops
                                    like steam but still left
                                         some lose speed lose direction
                                              some drift to the right some float
                                                   up a while
                                                        but not for long

                                                             all the while
                                still on the ground
                                silent on the ground
                                the parked cars lose
                                their colour and shape
                                and have given up their
                                proud dreams of
                                getting and being
                                somewhere

                                              and all the while too
a seagull circles
                                                                                              and looks

                                              about and

                                                                                 swoops
                                out of                                view
                                              collecting
                                              nothing
                leaving

                                                                                 no trace

 

 

 

awareness wormhole: meditation session

 

Saturday / afternoon

 

 

 

                                          Saturday
                                          afternoon

                     the sadness of a lighted canopy
                     at the petrol station under the
                       dark-                           en-
                       ing                              clear
                       cold                            off-
                       olive                           sky

 

 

 

olive wormhole: thirst? / hunger?
afternoon wormhole: Batman 168

 

morning

 

 

 

                      morning

                                   is it just fanciful to think
                                   that it rained all the day you died
                                          and I freshly grieved
                                          the hundred times that
                                          I’d forgotten and then
                                          remembered again
                                   and it blew all the night you died
                                          and I recited my prayers
                                          and thought my thoughts
                                          trying hard to keep my mind
                                          on the emptiness you had become

                                                              but this morning the sky
                                                              is bright bright blue and
                                                              the fir trees are leaning
                                                              here and there not quite sure
                                                              what they are doing here
                                                              all brushed up now
                                                              clean and bristling

 

 

 

… in memory of: Bob 1995-2012
blue sky wormhole: Bob // 1995/2012