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                                  from my childhood

                        untied            un-navigated            foggy
                        in the house on the hill now too big for us

                        out of the dreams of colours and glass
                        ‘… need to be the Man of the House now’

                        something high and far-out to be
                        constructed                reaching

on the edge of a collapsed crumbling viaduct – a society that no longer thrives

                        but persists – I will never succeed in building
                        on such a structure                scared of falling

                        buildings too high to raise my eyes
                        ledges too narrow to ste-        pp

                        hills becoming vertical as I climb
                        branches lurching with my weight

but this is all I know to do                                  
this is all I have done                                  

            but then I didn’t have to be
            anything other than what I was I was

sufficient as I was to be everything                                  
that was needed to be                                  

            the Man of the House ‘the Man
            of the House’ made me other

because I reached after the sublime                                  
to be the Man of the House                                  

            I don’t know myself
            I am someone who has striven

beyond himself all his life and yet                                  
there isn’t a hidden me covered over                                  

            waiting to be found I am what I have striven
            not what I have striven away from

I should accept me as I am and sit and                                  
when the fear and failure come up accept them                                  

                        when the anger and violence
                        come up accept them

                        when the reading and sublimity
                        come up accept them

                        these are the child who stood
                        in the garden smiling at the sun

                        through the branches but frozen
                        because they were moving

                        delighted but bewildered
                        reaching but blinded

 

 

 

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

branches wormhole: Plumstead Common / Road
buildings wormhole: ‘awareness is like a huge arc light CRACK! …’
childhood & viaduct wormhole: ‘from the basement room …’
divorce wormhole: ‘the smell of gloss paint …’
Eglinton Hill wormhole: uphill
living wormhole: I could smile
sitting wormhole: sitting
speech wormhole: ‘in the bookshop …’
sun wormhole: the receding / roads of Hejira

 

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