magnificent salad

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                magnificent salad

                you take diced red and yellow apple
                and sliced melocotone flesh
                a few dark-shredded prunes and a
                sprinkle of roasted abrezia nuts

                a lightwood table top to eat from
                in the lo-fat custard (with hint of lime
                from the pulled curtain) apartamiento
                and the blood-orange shirt discarded

                from the morning’s walk, in the burnt
                orange street of a constant 30º Granada
                of a currently perpetual 2 pm, then
                just a twist of no-tickets to the Red

                Castle all week; a cup of milky coffee
                waiting, but not before I drink the
                run-off olive oil and soy sauce from
                the green and bluely leafed plate

 

 

 

————w(O)rmholes________________________________|—–

acceptance wormhole: and smile / like a bud
being wormhole: cut while you’re ahead/cut while you’re a thread – poewieview #35
blue wormhole: hello, luvvey, do you want a cup of tea?
brown & red & yellow wormhole: Lapping Reflections [Deep Within Waters] – … as the new town marches in
coffee wormhole: quick inventory after coffee
green & walking wormhole: The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J Redford – A Sign of the Times
holiday wormhole: Granada holiday …
lime wormhole: AT-tennnnnnnn – waitfrit waitfrit – SHUN!
morning & table wormhole: The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J Redford – Safe Home
oppenness wormhole: The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J. Redford – A Precious Moment
orange wormgole: The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J Redford – Simon Upon The Downs
time wormhole: moment

 

Granada holiday …

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OK maties; during the last two weeks of September I was on holiday in Granada in the south of Spain with my good pal and wife, Carol; it is the first holidy we have been able to take outside of the school holidays for 29 years, but now that I am retired we’ll holiday in all sorts of times and places; it was also noticeable because I was able to write some good stuff which I am excited about and it’s always good to have it reaffirmed that you’ve still ‘got it’ as you get older …

I’ve also stumbled into the middle of an idea which is quite intriguing me: in the tourist shops were some ‘librettas’, note books, really, with nice Granada-y covers; I bought one for myself to have as a notebook to write poems while I’m out and about, but then it occurred to me to ‘write a book’, just like that; it’s an alternative to publishing and revives the art of writing by hand: I will write out a collection of my poems – those written in Granada and those ‘affiliated’ as I find them – into the book, in my best handwriting, nicely spaced and arranged, an edition of … one, only and unique; it will take a few months (240 pages), and then I will give it to someone who wants it; and then do another if I enjoy it

… now if that’s not self-publishing, I don’t know what is

meanwhile, coming up next is a fresh poem written in Granada …

 

 

 

————w(O)rmholes________________________________|—–

holiday wormhole: travel
publishing wormhole: bloogying
writing wormhole: cut while you’re ahead/cut while you’re a thread – poewieview #35

 

moment

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       I become better and better at sitting
       the more I realise I cannot settle
       even for a moment

       and when I realise just how much I cannot settle
       even for a moment,
       how the whole of my life is wound round

       and weaved through all of my time
       all of the time that I cannot settle
       even for a moment,

       what a relief –
       all this building all of this plotting all of these clever ripostes –
       I can detach from them all

       just for a moment

                 –o–

       may I dwell in this my true and only nature
       and may no one no one
       be missed out

 

 

 

————w(O)rmholes________________________________|—–

compassion wormhole: reaching branch
life & time wormhole: cut while you’re ahead/cut while you’re a thread – poewieview #35
love wormhole: 35 years ago …
mind wormhole: The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J. Redford – On Doing Nothing
realisation wormhole: fresh destiny
settling wormhole: and smile / like a bud
sitting wormhole: The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J Redford – A Sign of the Times
talking to myself wormhole: let it all go

 

mlewisredford is five and m lewis redford is retired

mlr

lookatim – he hadn’t yet been to university, married, had children or worked for 29 years when this portrait was drawn; do you think he could be a writer, a lover, a father, a teacher … a superhero; I don’t know, and I drew the portrait, trying to find out what exactly it is he is doing here; about 39 years later I still don’t know, and neither does he; he has long held the suspicion that he has been all these things (well) to the exact inverse ratio that he has tried to be the superhero about it all to validate that he is here, that he, and his life, are defined by the absence of what he felt he should be doing in order to make everything meaningful: he does well without trying, he becomes irrelevant when he tries to do better;

mlewisredford was started the year he started working part-time at his job (his practice of teaching could no longer tolerate being extraneous to the performance that teaching had become) making use of the words he had neglected writing for so long; but he remained part-time extraneous (and almost quantum) until the tenuous link finally sundered at the end of this August; this MIGHT mean that he has more time for his words and his blog … were it not for the fact that he really needs to learn about the dangers and frustration of trying to be the superhero who makes life happen through side-teeth-gritted-in-a-triangle-mouth – so I won’t work damnably hard trying to catch up on my backlog of works yet to be published, I won’t scrabble hard to make the bigger projects come together before they have properly coagulated, I won’t lament when magazines turn me down and visits to my blog turn downwards, I won’t publish every day … unless it comes together by itself simply by my inexorable and ‘almost indefatigable and quietly militant naïveté …’ of being present …

here are some thankyous:

mlrstats2016mlrwordlmap2016mlrtopviewed2016mlrcommenters2016

I still seem to be getting most notice, by far, from America; intrigued to find some interest from Russia and Korea this year; tearful thankyous to Jilanne Hoffman who reads so well, although she seems to be having WP problems at the moment with little solution in attendance; to Johnny (nee Crabcakes) who is being swallowed whole by work at the moment; to Johnbalaya who has also recently gone quiet – I wish him well whatever is happening; to Rhino who had already stopped his blog (but he just can’t stop hitting that ‘return’ button) who kept reading nevertheless; to Bonnie, who is also quietning of late; to Wayward who dipped out of my list, then back in again whenever we have a silly chat (speaking of silly chats I still miss Philip Vermaas); to Jana H White who snuggles in (in her beutiful pea-green boat) whenever a Boats of Vallisneria floats across the horizon; also to Jennifer G. Knoblock, UpChuckingwords, Suzy Hazelwood for including me in her magazine, Amy Jo Sprague, Silvia Springorum; (there are a significant few bloggers whose company I enjoyed who have just suddenly stopped over the years, or have gone private …); to all of you …

–~~~ “M” ~~~–

this blog started 14th September 2011, the day my Mum would have turned 78 years old: at the very least I will commemorate her birth day in this blog:

mum

cut while you’re ahead/cut while you’re a thread – poewieview #35

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            cut while you’re ahead/cut while you’re a thread

            in all ongoing history, queasy quotidian iteration,
            of all the plaited threads, this particular will always

            splay without of the weave; strangely aligned with
            aquiline possibility ‘leave them alone and they’ll

            come home’ transgressive tales behind them,
            all dressed-up in words with open collars throaty

            upon a time improbable, hidden in plane site,
            hiding in plain sight but easiest found in wardrobes

 

outertextual in The Bewlay Brothers from 1971; there are more from here, but not now …

 

 

————w(O)rmholes________________________________|—–

being & identity wormhole: [once a] dilemminal [always a dilemminal]
Bowie & death wormhole: through the pane – poewieview #34
history & voices wormhole: and smile / like a bud
life & society wormhole: Lapping Reflections [Deep Within Waters] – … as the new town marches in
searching wormhole: chartless …
time wormhole: The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J Redford – A Sign of the Times
words wormhole: poessay III: jijimuge
writing wormhole: AT-tennnnnnnn – waitfrit waitfrit – SHUN!

 

[once a] dilemminal [always a dilemminal]

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                                                                        dilemminal

                        when I work for recognition
                        I am flirting with a game

                        the game is confusing and shifting and
                        I don’t like playing games

                        to go ‘public’ for profile, even so little
                        as acting independently,

                        is to enter a place of breaking ground
                        and flying objects to which I …

have to react

 

I retired at the end of this academic year; I am free – but I will never recover from the damage to my self that being the self that I was obliged to be in order to be recognised that I was doing the job at all, did …

 

 

————w(O)rmholes________________________________|—–

being wormhole: happen//ing
doing wormhole: through the pane – poewieview #34
game wormhole: we play / the game
groundlessness wormhole: chartless …
identity & pointlessness wormhole: let it all go
teaching wormhole: lonely and free

 

Lapping Reflections [Deep Within Waters] – … as the new town marches in

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            there are great mountains of cumulus
            towered above, shadows course over
            grey-yellow stubble, gulls hackle rooks
            in leaning elms while red and black-

            berries hang in the hedgerow … run,
            run downhill, stretch my legs in boundless
            stride, stream through the air from boy
            to man, flood the plain with open memory;

            or maybe: scale a furtive upward glance,
            through boughs of avenue, a third
            dimension, to survey, to just survey all
            the song of all to sing ‘laaaaaark’; but

            I’ll just rest here, now, sit beside the gate
            sit under the signpost, and listen … foliage
            turned dark and almost brown, the earth
            awaits the golden plough while dancing

            rose-hips watch skeins of Friesians
            work meticulous across the skyline and
            … everything will change, piped rippled
            through bygone years – there will be ghosts

            in the ditches, there will be paths adrift
            of leaf, the ivy will reach up from the post
            which points only to the wind now leaving
            autumn mists to drift like webs into the

            corners of paddocks; and there is a strange
            silence in the sky … as the new town marches in

 

read the collected work as it is published: here
this is an appliquiary to: The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J Redford – A Sign of the Times

 

 

————w(O)rmholes________________________________|—–

autumn & branches & brown & change & childhood & clouds & field & grey & hedge & leaves & life & mist & path & red & seagull & silence & sky & skyline & trees & wind & yellow wormhole: The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J Redford – A Sign of the Times
ghosts wormhole: just saying, is all IV: // lost
gold wormhole: Lapping Reflections [Deep Within Waters] – autumn
listening wormhole: through the pane – poewieview #34
shadow wormhole: the purple mist between
society wormhole: poessay III: jijimuge

 

let it all go

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                                              strong habit
                                abstracting
                from a pointless world

                                              me versus the world
                                whenever it solidifies
                centripetal to my centrifugal

                                I should let it all go

                                              by looking
                                where I am
                geographically

                                              emotionally
                                completely
                cleanly

                                              once again
                                hundreds of times
                all the time, and

                                              emerge
                                from it and
                watch myself

                                              and the world
                                spring up
                like illusion

 

 

 

————w(O)rmholes________________________________|—–

identity & looking wormhole: AT-tennnnnnnn – waitfrit waitfrit – SHUN!
letting go wormhole: trying to focus / on walking
pointlessness wormhole: hello, luvvey, do you want a cup of tea?
practice wormhole: substance
talking to myself wormhole: happen//ing
world wormhole: travel

 

poessay III: jijimuge

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                poessay III: jijimuge

                to allow any knowledge
                to accumulate
                it must be valued
                as        relative

                therefore       a-valuable
                so that it cannot render
                understanding;
                you cannot find a Way

                with accumulated knowledge
                you become anodyne
                to discussion and open
                to hijack and manipulation of the agenda

                communication becomes a wrestle –
                thrown grunted slammed –
                but nevertheless loosely
                choreographed

                words become the stock of the exchange
                but not the value
                each word just a nickel or a dime
                the value of words today

                is as means to exercise
                power              through allegiance
                to the notion of a freedom
                inherent in democracy

                I would rather look through
                a perfect glass stone
                look through one facet and see
                all other facets either near or distant

                but all related
                and then another facet
                still allincluded but interrelatedly interreferenced intervaluably intersemantically
                not dispersed            like gas

 

The world of ji: one in one, when one is taken-in by all, one enters into all.   The world of ri: one in all, when all is taken-in by one, all enters into one.   The world of ri and ji perfectly interfused: all in one, when one is taken-in by one, one enters into one.   The world where each individual ji is seen as interfused with every other: all in all, when all is taken-in by all, all enters into all.   This last one, jiji muge hokkai, is said to be the highest world of Enlightenment.

adapted from the words found in: http://www.taichido.com/chi/newbud/sato3.htm

 

 

————w(O)rmholes________________________________|—–

communication wormhole: lonely and free
glass & society wormhole: fresh destiny
knowledge wormhole: The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J. Redford – On Doing Nothing
power wormhole: the purple mist between
understanding wormhole: listen willya
words wormhole: 1967

 

happen//ing

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            happen doesn’t happen
            through will or decision
            creating chaos like an oar in water

            it doesn’t happen
            through positioning becoming part of the chaos
            riding a ripple

            neither does it happen
            by going with the flow
            becoming part of the chaos riding the trough

            or by not caring
            becoming submerged and possibly drowning
            happen happens

            when it is recognised
            amid the will the positioning the caring
            then

            the will the positioning the care happen
            like water poured into water
            ing

 

 

 

————w(O)rmholes________________________________|—–

being wormhole: trying to focus / on walking
flow wormhole: the both passive and transitive / non-presumptive pre-conceptualist attenuation of being
politics wormhole: listen willya
recognition wormhole: ashramas
talking to myself wormhole: magnetic field
water wormhole: one day / in 1956