under the blue and blue sky

Tags

1930s, 2020, 6*, blue, city, dome, horizon, identity, interdependet origination, London, lost, Ludgate Circus, morning, passing, pavement, seeing, sky, space, St. Paul's, stopped, sun, thought, time, traffic, work

                I stopped short
                caught on the kerb-

                side, traffic past,
                crawling from the morning

                sun; there was space
                before me here, but a

                city all about as far
                as I could see uphill until

                the consoling dome
                of St. Paul’s, deep behind any

                horizon, confirmed,
                yes, yes, it has come to this

                that you are found
                dressed dark and sober for work

                and lost
                under the blue and blue sky

 

 

who is it, who is it: that noticed or wrote or snapped or talked or stopped or dressed or read …?

 

^{————w}(O)rmholes_________________________________|—–

blue & horizon wormhole: meanwhile
city wormhole: The Atlantic City Convention: 1. THE WAITRESS by William Carlos Williams
identity & time wormhole: sweet chestnut
London & sky wormhole: ‘she shook the sweets …’
morning wormhole: riders of the night
passing wormhole: YOUNG WOMAN AT A WINDOW by William Carlos Williams
seeing wormhole: ‘not sure …’
space wormhole: Lapping Reflections [Deep Within Waters] – I took my camera into the fields
sun wormhole: silence
thought wormhole: poessay XI – piquant love
work wormhole: slight sneer

 

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Exceat to Cuckmere Haven

Tags

1800s, 1930s, 2015, afternoon, attention, banjo, bass, being, blues, branches, breeze, canopy, chalk, clouds, crow, Cuckmere Haven, distance, Eastbourne, echo, elderflower, exposure, eyebrow, eyes, family, forget-me-not, future, garden, generation, grass, haiku, hair, hills, identity, jazz, karma, listening, mind, moss, music, party, river, sky, sound, stone, talking, time, trees, trumpet, voices, walking, walls, white, wind, writing

 

 

 

                                          Exceat to Cuckmere Haven

                                          enough attention to what is here all
                                          around creates event enough for all
                                          the mournful and background lines

                                          and interjections of a single head to
                                          fill and echo enough to be slightly
                                          embarrassed and self-conscious

                                                      —O¬

                                          uphill first, treeline to the left tends
                                          to the right, to the right to the left:
                                          stonewall gate; then downhill over

                                          the moss on a stone-capped wall
                                          trying blankly to describe the full
                                          and close distance of all the trees

                                          down the hill some trad jazz blues
                                          starts up somewhere from below
                                          (from someone’s garden party);

                                          upsweep of trumpet plnkplnkplnk
                                          of banjo, discussing whether saving
                                          bugs one by one from the foraged

                                          elderflower or just plonking them
                                          all in the boiling water is good for
                                          your karma or not bdjmm-dmtsh;

                                                  dry white silt track with
                                             strolling by double bass line
                                               islands of sparse grass;

                                          aggh; band stops river widens – Île
                                          de la Cité – eyes to the canopy
                                          watching the breeze listening to

                                          the fall, the bug on my forehead
                                          stops stepping between the hairs
                                          of my eyebrows – ahh; band sings

                                          out of earshot, breeze plays at the
                                          edge of the copse; must get to know
                                          these (forget-me-nots) by the fallen

                                          branch; along by the full Cuckmere
                                          ebbing back to the afternoon of the
                                          1930s, (1800s Big Country clouds to

                                          the right), in front the high sky out
                                          to the, as yet, unformed future; the
                                          different ways families talk between

                                          generations down the beach:
                                          declarative conciliatory emolliative
                                          echoing along the outflow wall

                                          crow walks awkwardly on the stones
                                          down the beach, the following
                                          wind raising its back feathers

                                                      ¬O—

                                          turning back: chalk clouds in the
                                          hillside, elderflower fronds cruise
                                          past in fleets of aligned skim

 

 

 

^{————w}(O)rmholes_________________________________|—–

afternoon wormhole: Hypnopompia
attention & wind wormhole: before // writing?
being & echo & eyes & family & identity & listening & time wormhole: my life / of others
branches & breeze wormhole: out side of the writing / lodge
clouds & garden wormhole: ambling around / the garden centre
crow wormhole: tune up // baton taptaptap
Eastbourne wormhole: gold wedding band
haiku(esque) wormhole: ‘discution poli / d’orage …’
hair & walking wormhole: I love with all the history and lack of perfections at our command
hills wormhole: [start where you are III] – delve
mind & sound & writing wormhole: the art of sit and follow
music wormhole: “King …”
river wormhole: Totnes
sky & walls wormhole: up here
stone & voices wormhole: 1963
talking wormhole: library: start where you are IV // all the distance I have travelled!
trees wormhole: hot summer / morning
white wormhole: 1959

 

multifarious: the Dark Knight Returns (1986)

Tags

1930s, 2014, 9*, age, Allen Ginsberg, architecture, avenue, Batman, being, birds, buildings, choice, city, collective unconscious, consumerism, death, doing, doors, earrings, emptiness, faces, Frank Miller, giving, grey, Have, identity, Joker, letting go, life, lightning, lime, magazine, mother of pearl, night, olive, option, red, Shantideva, silhouette, sky, society, sound, space, speech, statue, steam, Superman, talking, talking to myself, thunder, topaz, tv, vindication, walls, wisdom

 

The Dark Knight Returns (1986); writer: Frank Miller; artist: Frank Miller & Lynn Varley

 

 

 

                earrings: left then right
                static square and upright obelisk

                steam across every avenue
                before the silhouette architecture with grizzly coat of ornamentation

                earrings: lime-olive horizontal
                and block full-stop

                the rabbit-chase fall below
                is sudden guttural and city-wide

RMMBL
                ‘a flash of lightning in the dark of night’*
                                                                                 KRAKK

                all the effortless intelligence beyond the door
                beyond the wall        with bat-darts

                earrings: mother of pearl
                pause and equals

and there he is jumping taller than a building across the only spaces left now:
                the sky and the ante-room before preconception (a cowardly and superstitious lot)

                the spires stand clean
                in the grey-wash sky

                where gothic statues acknowledge
                the impossible pinion and swing

                “… I have to know”**
                and stone manes splay when he sees “a reflection”***

                earrings: topaz pennies
                one and three-dangling

                and while the gently-cornered squares
                talk the Worm the Bluff and the Dribble

                others take the space down in the dump
                where a position cannot be found

                where the position cannot be resisted
                no matter how young you are

                no matter how strong you are in the realistic world
                in all the floorboard rooms the TVs and magazines

                stack positions on shelves and in refrigerators
                and in wrappers multifarious in choice and option

                any space here
                would make everything all the more ugly

                no
                no

                the move needs to come from
space of no choice and it can never be obvious it can never be choice

                Bat-signal
                bright on the side of Moloch****

                stone birds from the 1930s
                earrings: gone

                ah, but the world grows [not] up
                rather it folds over itself and regenerates

                with billowed ruffles
                atop old buildings

                “so many smiles / so many faces / all the same”*****
                “every year they grow smaller”******

                earrings: vampyre’s teeth soaked
                serious faces        all the same

                when you break too many of the important rules
                you’ve acted to define yourself vindicated

                you haven’t given    anything
                it doesn’t count

                death happens by itself without design
                all you have to do is let it all go –

                the purpose and the self –
                and you could live clean for a hundred years

 

* Bodhisattvacharyavatara I, 5, Shantideva (translated Stephen Batchelor): ‘Just as a flash of lightning on a dark, cloudy night / For an instant brightly illuminates all, / Likewise in this world, through the might of Buddha, / A wholesome thought rarely and briefly appears’
** Book I, P.43 & 45
*** Book I, P.47
**** Howl
***** Book III, P.25
****** Book III, P.25

 

 

^{————w}(O)rmholes_________________________________|—–

Allen Ginsberg wormhole: poetry
architecture wormhole: stranger / if we met
Batman wormhole: tag cloud poem III – the journey to BEING and back again
being & vindication wormhole: heavy load
birds & talking wormhole: sunny day
buildings wormhole: the edges of my reach
city wormhole: tag cloud poem IV – C
death & life & night & sky wormhole: … sshhh
doing wormhole: the meaning is the moment all day long
doors wormhole: walking / right into the side of the very door left / open for me
emptiness & space wormhole: wha’
faces wormhole: quest in brown
giving wormhole: practise what you doing / give what you having / breathe what you remember
grey & lime & olive wormhole: Hever
Have wormhole: shared anxiety
identity wormhole: prologue
letting go & talking to myself wormhole: … and
lightning wormhole: jagged panel
red wormhole: that’s me / in the corner that’s me in the spot light / losing my religion*
Shantideva wormhole: walking
silhouette wormhole: clouds
society wormhole: the sounds the difficulty and the long long strands of liquorice
sound wormhole: someone called Frank
speech wormhole: mlewisredford introductory complete life audit confessional
Superman wormhole: inverse superhero
tv wormhole: Love Me Do
walls wormhole: Knapps

 

Hever

Tags

'scape, 1930s, 2012, 5*, evening, green, grey, lime, olive, sky, time, train, trees, Uckfield-London line

 

 

 

                Hever

                grey-low (with hint
                of lime and olive

                     milkshake)

                sky over avenue of
                turning trees straight
                straight to the early
                evening of the 1930s

 

 

 

^{————w}(O)rmholes_________________________________|—–

evening & olive wormhole: tag cloud poem IV – C
green wormhole: window
grey wormhole: Love Me Do
lime wormhole: 25% scaffolding & rope
sky & trees wormhole: the edges of my reach
time wormhole: sunny day
train wormhole: I glimpse above the rooftops
Uckfield-London line wormhole: Eridge Station

 

scandal

Tags

'scape, 1930s, 1990, 20th century, 4*, life, portrait, seagull, silver, speech, white, wind, yellow

 

 

 

                                the man
                                alone on the wide
                                street

                                two cyclists pass
                                on the
                                     silhouette path

                                scandal, the lights
                                clank
                                on you can’t
                                remember
                                you mouth but
                                your lips
                                don’t move

                                the two
                                flashing
                                yellow
                                lights
                                over the empty
                                street
                                the single
                                clarinet note
                                bending
                                down then
                                up to the same
                                note

                                seagulls flap
                                and wheel around
                                his head
                                her mouth

                                sculps
                                five times before
                                she says
                                “…do something
                                     for him”

                                     I’ve got you
                                     under my skin
                                     drawing careful

                                diagrams in the white
                                sand

                                silver
                                wavy
                                hair and
                                champagne-saluting

                                what was
                                once a ballerina
                                is now just

                                plugged into the
                                wall

                                rubbing the make-up
                                off

 

 

 

^{————w}(O)rmholes_________________________________|—–

20^th century & life & yellow wormhole: ‘after the war …’
seagull wormhole: ‘she shook the sweets …’
silver wormhole: Life on Mars?
speech wormhole: ‘she busted in …’
white wormhole sitting room
wind wormhole: washing lines and trees