I turn to wake up

Tags

2014, 7*, authority, breakdown, Carol, determination, doors, dream, Emily, future, heart, Hillside, home, humiliation, identity, innocence, life, managerialism, neglect, power, presumption, pupils, responsibility, sound, streets, teachers, teaching, time, toilet, uniform, waking

the e-mail that clanked dank in my heart
                the report I hadn’t written
                                for so long, for Emily
[her future all depends on it, poor Emily, she is so innocent and so pretty she deserves all the future she can get and You are neglecting her of it with your own languid longevity] but I will

                                NOT be responsible for future lives
                when I am ill from the presumption which doesn’t let me
even crap in private outside my own backdoor pan-in-the-yard
                they have called for me at my front door
                                with the brusqueness of a uniform
                                                with the presumption of amoral (sic)
                                                                even here
                                                the uniform and the outside toilet in my own house:                
                the humiliation could not be more complete so
I pull the hood of my dressing gown over my head
                and sink out of the dream

                                This Will Not Be

                                                I rouse Carol from
                                                                her own dream
                                                and drift somewhat back to …
                                … pupils all around the street
                                                they
                                                should
                                                not be
                                                there but only I
                of all the teachers in my front room
go out to front and tell them –
                command of my righteousness –
                                that they should not be there they should be BEHIND the house
                                                behind the house
                                but they turn languid
                and run round the corner down the street, they know
they don’t have to listen to me and
                I am powerless because
                                I am ill

                                I am so fed up with this
                                                I turn myself to wake up
                                                                I turn to wake up

 

 

 

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

breakdown wormhole: slow enough / to have love
Carol wormhole: St. Mark’s flies flagpole upwards / with the forelegs hanging down obscene / reaching some height blindly to connect / out from the long-stalk tri-separating up- / to-seeded rounds of pod like acacia what / is it called “‘hogweed’ I-don’t-know- / what-it’s-called-but-goats-love-it-and- / it-makes-them-burp-a-lot”
doors & life wormhole: every step I take
dream wormhole: make your rickety / constructs strong with / unbending grids / of attention and wide- / open grates of let
Hillside wormhole: tag cloud poem IX – haiku is awkward / the more that is left in / like uncombed hair
identity wormhole: dear Lucy
managerialism wormhole: ‘let them slide off …’
power wormhole: that comicbookshop … // … in dreams
sound & streets wormhole: while
teaching wormhole: dream I // dream II
time wormhole: this time

 

make your rickety / constructs strong with / unbending grids / of attention and wide- / open grates of let

Tags

2013, 7*, afternoon, attention, boundary, class, construction, defeat, defensive, dream, labour, letting go, lifetimes, living, morning, satisfaction, shift, silence, skill, speech, teaching, waking, water

                I woke saying “sit down”
                to a class who had
                been testing me like water

                moving silent against
                my every prescription
                demanded or presumed

                despite all the charm or
                cleverness I might use
                to a morning

                and then an afternoon
                of defeat and defence
                unable to use the skill

                and manoeuvre I have
                taught myself for
                lifetimes now

                all the shift and forming
                around the boundaries
                finding every fissure

                and fault just ahead
                of my every attempt
                to dam it all; what labour

                what want of satisfaction;
                let the water go
                where it will – it will

                all go there anyway – and
                make your rickety
                constructs strong with

                unbending grids
                of attention and wide-
                open grates of let

 

 

 

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

attention wormhole: divergent // direction
dream wormhole: wakeoutofadream
letting go wormhole: redundant
lifetimes wormhole: Salisbury Cathedral // suspended in everything
living wormhole: free
morning wormhole: windows // and balconies
silence & speech & water wormhole: the quiet whale
teaching wormhole: a nice grey woollen picnic blanket

 

municipal garden

Tags

'scape, 2013, 7*, Bakewell, branches, breath, building, bus, cars, child, clouds, coach, finials, garden, green, grey, hearing, morning, parent, passing, pigeons, pink, roses, speech, traffic, trees, voices

                                municipal garden

                pigeons along the ledge
                below the finials of the municipal building
                heads collapsed down into their shoulders

                the grey clouds convene
                from all across the morning
                the hangdown branches variously shuffle

                the municipal dustcarts and buses –
                      sorry not in service –
                the livestock carriers the plant carriers
                      and the coaches
                make their careful turn across the
                      mini-roundabout
                and all the cars cannot be seen but
                      are heard behind
                the long screen of pink rose bushes
                      constantly

                ‘can we go on the grass?’, ‘no’,
                inevitable as the next breath ‘why?’
                upturn voice ‘because you’re not allowed’ …

                … ‘why is it so green?’ the pigeons
                flock variously down to under the trees
                forming perfect rounds of pecking heads

 

 

 

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

branches wormhole: ssreet chak-chak
breath wormhole: just saying, is all VIII: keeping up toxic appearences
bus wormhole: 1968
cars wormhole: Luton // couldn’t make a poem out of it
child wormhole: ‘quick – she’s gone to pay …’
clouds & garden & green & morning & trees wormhole: garden
grey wormhole: handsome
passing wormhole: walk from Castleton to Hope
pigeons wormhole: embodying
pink wormhole: the skyline
speech wormhole: mother and daughter
voices wormhole: singsong chant

 

St. Edmund’s / Parish Church / Castleton

Tags

2013, 7*, black, blue, brass, Castleton, ceiling, church, metal, patience, silence, smell, sound, waiting, wood, writing

                                smell

                of centuried wood and polish
                misaligned and creaky and
                still held by metal twist brace
                with brass lamp-holders polished
                and blackening and spore
                of pew-bolster-cushions patient
                and attentive waiting

                                silently

                but for the crease and crankle
                of the notepad as I write these
                lines high among the rafters
                of the powder-blue ceiling

                                St. Edmund’s
                                Parish Church
                                Castleton

 

 

 

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

black wormhole: that comicbookshop … // … in dreams
blue & Castleton wormhole: lesson from watching two crane flies work the evening / skating across the panes flying and pushing legs grappling / the glass crossing repulsive over themselves and clinging akimbo / for a rest until lifeless just to get their stickly bodies through to the light
church wormhole: and that’s where I are
silence wormhole: 1968 – orange sand and mauve mist
smell wormhole: too much in arrival
waiting wormhole: greedy
wood wormhole: prelude: // travel
writing wormhole: the goldilocks stance

 

garden

Tags

'scape, 2013, 7*, Carol, clouds, Eden, garden, green, hair, hill, life, Mam Tor, mist, morning, pine, silhouette, silver, sun, trees, valley, walking

                                garden

                walking up through the morning
                      to Mam Tor
                will the mist rise off the hill
                      as we rise
                well it doesn’t matter because
                      right there
                the sun has broken through the
                      upper cloud
                but not yet the misty-wet, making
                      the trees
                green-silhouette and the valley silvery-
                      incandescent
                as the new-born first day

                      in front
                is Carol’s forest of hair walking
                      slowly
                into the quick-grown pine getting
                      nowhere

 

 

 

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

Carol wormhole: handsome
clouds & trees wormhole: in the / Citadel / Park / a leaf / new / ly fell
garden wormhole: lost and city ground
green & hair & mist wormhole: prelude: // travel
life wormhole: lesson from watching two crane flies work the evening / skating across the panes flying and pushing legs grappling / the glass crossing repulsive over themselves and clinging akimbo / for a rest until lifeless just to get their stickly bodies through to the light
morning wormhole: mother and daughter
pine wormhole: clouds
silhouette wormhole: love and precision
silver wormhole: Life on Mars? – poewieview #31
sun wormhole: too much in arrival
valley wormhole: The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J Redford – Snow
walking wormhole: prospect

 

lesson from watching two crane flies work the evening / skating across the panes flying and pushing legs grappling / the glass crossing repulsive over themselves and clinging akimbo / for a rest until lifeless just to get their stickly bodies through to the light

Tags

2013, 7*, apple tree, awareness, being, blue, breeze, Castleton, death, doing, eggs, evening, feeling, feet, flying, glass, holiday, kitchen, leaves, life, light, living, mindfulness, placement, table, warp, weft

                lesson from watching two crane flies work the evening
                skating across the panes flying and pushing legs grappling
                the glass crossing repulsive over themselves and clinging akimbo
                for a rest until lifeless just to get their stickly bodies through to the light

                                it is so sweet and simple
                                what I have to do: the keep
                                of mind on what I do the
                                turning of the lens until
                                what I am and what I do
                                are so clear and resplendent
                                that I can see each thread
                                of the warp and weft of the
                                blue gingham cloth hanging
                                over the edge of the wicker
                                basket holding speckless-
                                shaped eggs four to welcome
                                us to the holiday cottage

                back to Castleton two years on, cool feet on the fresh-laid flooring
                fresh breeze through the leaves of the apple tree
                but the drop-leaf table in the kitchen
                is mine all mine

 

 

 

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

awareness wormhole: redundant
being wormhole: too much in arrival
blue wormhole: ssreet chak-chak
breeze wormhole: in the / Citadel / Park / a leaf / new / ly fell
Castleton wormhole: on the raised patio reading Plath
death & life wormhole: stone
doing wormhole: prelude: // travel
evening wormhole: south horizon
feet wormhole: six paramitas
glass wormhole: Salisbury Cathedral // suspended in everything
holiday wormhole: holiday
kitchen wormhole: Lapping Reflections [Deep Within Waters] – snow
leaves wormhole: monument to vainglory
living wormhole: wasted –
table wormhole: retirement

 

Salisbury Cathedral // suspended in everything

Tags

2017, 7*, angel, circle, clock, doing, everything, glass, lifetimes, light, nothing, Salisbury Cathedral, speech, statue, stone, time

                Salisbury Cathedral

                angels fizz and jagger touch
                a single flame of tongue

                the oldest working clock
                shows no time anymore;

                so much empty stone
                so many lives lost

                only coloured light of lineage
                and majesty keeping inward –

                so much hopeful effort frozen
                in faraway stare outwards –

                curlicue ends of stone form
                perfect circles of nothing

                suspended in everything

 

 

there is nothing ventured that gain doesn’t think it so, there is everything gained by staying in the centre of the circle; read the whole sequence as it hangs unearthly in space: in and out / the Avebury stones / can’t seem to get / a signal …

 

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

doing wormhole: nothing significant
glass wormhole: the silent night of the Batman
lifetimes wormhole: Open – All – Ours
light wormhole: darkness
speech & stone & time wormhole: stone

 

stone

Tags

2017, 7*, acceptance, afterlife, barrow, breath, death, girl, hair, life, lost, parent, place, settlement, sky, speech, stone, time, world

courtesy of https://historicengland.org.uk – hope she doesn’t mind

                                there was
                                just out
                                and hunt
                                and gather

                                and then
                                we stopped
                                to keep
                                and found

                the whole world wider than the sky

                                that we
                                got lost
                                to where
                                we were

                                and time
                                which came
                                to late
                                and so we

                                hauled
                                the stones
                                to fix
                                place

                                and dis
                                covered
                                in …
                                and life

                                and death
                                the smell of
                                deepness
                                the breath

                                of stone
                “you know what they were talking about
                                in class …
                                Kirsty …”

                                scampering
                                sideways
                                down the
                                slope untied

                                hair waving
                                all over
                                the place
                “… they were talking about barrows, burial

                                chambers;
                                we’re standing
                                on them
                                now – ”

                                all over
                                the place;
                                I’ve come
                                from the

                                ground I’ll
                                go back to
                                the ground
                                when time

 

perspective; read the whole sequence as it treads sideways down through time: in and out / the Avebury stones / can’t seem to get / a signal …

 

 

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

acceptance wormhole: Prajnaparamita // Maitreya
breath & hair & life wormhole: brown corduroy shirt / and dark redwine tie
death wormhole: where it has taken birth / may it not decrease …
girl wormhole: neither nude nor / descending a staircase
sky wormhole: ssreet chak-chak
speech wormhole: retirement
stone & time & world wormhole: weight

 

strain

Tags

2017, 7*, breakdown, career, identity, music, nude, openness, retirement, sound, vinyl

                I’ve lost the needle that settles
                between grooves and plays the circling music

                on fluff the arm skates across the ridges
                making awful rip of a career

                it skints along a ridge edge – wedges in,
                bounces out – a scratch to repeat

                against all reasonable hope that it might not;
                I cannot hear the pops and crackles,

                the greeting space before the
                opening strain, awaiting nudity

 

retirement #7: Virginia Woolf’s first novel was ‘the Voyage Out’; she wrote much of it as she experienced two breakdowns and a number of stark bereavements; this is not a trip to venture and return, this is a discovery to venture and change; so much changes between generation, within and across lives, the further you travel the deeper you stay where you are; read the whole sequence: in and out / the Avebury stones / can’t seem to get / a signal …

 

 

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

breakdown & retirement wormhole: what wounds have you got?
career wormhole: seen but not heard
identity wormhole: brown corduroy shirt / and dark redwine tie
music wormhole: within
openness wormhole: 1968
sound wormhole: ssreet chak-chak

 

retirement

Tags

2017, 7*, air, blood, career, face, feeling, identity, managerialism, mist, movement, murder, professionalism, retirement, smile, speech, table, teaching

                           retirement

---

                                     .                                      ,                                           .

                           ,                .                                                                                     ;                                                 ,                                                                                     .                       –                 .

                ,             ,                                                       ,  “                                                                     ,                                 ”,         … there

---

                           had been a murder
                           I could feel it all around me and
                           it wasn’t just because there was

                           mist all about – suggested movement,
                           sudden stop – and there is
                           no body

                           that I can see
                           no speech balloon of blood
                           from a face’s final cry

                           but a gentle air
                           where the table is that I
                           use to pound my fists

                           and a swirly smile
                           that told me so, dispersing and
                           unattributive

 

retirement #6: here it is, the full story in all of its salacious detail; restricted strictly to those over 18 years of age – warning: graphic violence, with scenes of intent unattribularity

 

 

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

air & mist wormhole: 1968
career & teaching wormhole: holiday
identity & smile wormhole: six paramitas
managerialism wormhole: dry rot
professionalism & table wormhole: while
speech wormhole: so pleased to see you again