• Bodhisattvacharyavatara
    • Introduction
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    • Chapter 3
    • Chapter 4
    • Chapter 5
    • Chapter 6
    • Chapter 7
    • Chapter 8
    • Chapter 9
    • Chapter 10
  • collected works
    • 25th August 1981 – count Up
    • askance From Hell
    • Batman
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    • Bob 1995-2012
    • Edward Hopper: Poems at an Exhibition
    • David Bowie Movements in Suite Major
    • Eglinton Hill
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    • Granada
    • in and out / the Avebury stones / can’t seem to get / a signal …
    • Lapping Reflections [Deep Within Waters]
    • Miller’s Batman
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mlewisredford

~ may the Supreme and Precious Jewel Bodhichitta take birth where it has not yet done so …

mlewisredford

Tag Archives: lips

The Atlantic City Convention: 1. THE WAITRESS by William Carlos Williams

12 Friday Apr 2019

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

1928, 6*, arms, Atlantic City, beauty, being, black, blue, candle, cheek, city, colour, communication, daisies, dress, ears, eyes, fingers, glass, green, grey, hair, hands, hips, knuckles, lips, looking, matches, mirror, mouth, movement, open, orange, others, portrait, poverty, red, reflection, ring, ruby, sea, seagull, silence, skin, sound, speech, temptation, thinking, walking, waves, white, William Carlos Williams, windows, woman, wrists, writing

                            1. THE WAITRESS

                No wit (and none needed) but
    the silence of her ways, grey eyes in
    a depth of black lashes–
    The eyes look and the look falls.

    There is no way, no way. So close
    one may feel the warmth of the cheek and yet there is
    no way.

    The benefits of poverty are a roughened skin
    of the hands, the broken
    knuckles, the stained wrists.

                Serious. Not as the others.
    All the rest are liars, all but you.
                                        Wait on us.
    Wait on us, the hair held back practically
    by a net, close behind the ears, at the sides of
    the head. But the eyes–
                            but the mouth, lightly (quickly)
    touched with rouge.

    The black dress makes the hair dark, strangely
    enough, and the white dress makes it light.
    There is a mole under the jaw, low under
    thr right ear–

                And what arms!

                                        The glassruby ring
    on the fourth finger of the left hand.

                                        –and the movements
under the scant dress as the weight of the tray
    makes the hips shift forward slightly in lifting
    and beginning to walk–

    The Nominating Committee presents the following
    resolutions, etc. etc. etc. All those
    in favor signify by saying, Aye. Contrariminded,
    No.
      Carried.
                And aye, and aye, and aye!

    And the way the bell-hop runs downstairs:
          ta tuck a
                ta tuck a
                      ta tuck a
                            ta tuck a
                                  ta tuck a
    and the gulls in the open window screaming over the slow
    break of the cold waves–

                O unlit candle with the soft white
    plume, Sunbeam Finest Safety Matches all together in
    a little box–

                And the reflections of both in
    the mirror and the reflection of the hand, writing
    writing–
                Speak to me of her!-

                –and nobody else and nothing else
    in the whole city, not an electric sign of shifting
    colors, fourfoot daisies and acanthus fronds going from
    red to orange, green to blue–forty feet across–

                                        Wait on us, wait
    on us with your momentary beauty to be enjoyed by
    none of us. Neither by you, certainly,
                                                nor by me.

 

with love from Poems, 1928

 

 

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

beauty & speech wormhole: ‘… and yet I think I am so modest: …’
being wormhole: so, how long is, a piece of string?
black wormhole: Impression of Winter: Carriage on a Country Road, 1872
blue & grey & writing wormhole: Hastings: neither all or nothing
city & William Carlos Williams wormhole: prose piece 2 from POEMS 1927 by William Carlos Williams
communication wormhole: agreed termination without prejudice
eyes wormhole: between
glass & red wormhole: travelling / back
green & woman wormhole: on facing the Have
hair wormhole: SPRING & LINES by William Carlos Williams
hands wormhole: THE LONELY STREET by William Carlos Williams
looking wormhole: waiting to be heard
mirror wormhole: What You Are by Roger McGough
mouth wormhole: glamour of saṃsāra
open wormhole: animus rises – powieview #37
orange & others & walking wormhole: Rain, Steam and Speed – the / Great Western Railway, 1844
reflection wormhole: I
sea & seagull & waves wormhole: Staffa Fingal’s Cave, 1832
silence & sound wormhole: Vue de Pontoise, 1873
thinking wormhole: there will be ovations
white wormhole: alabaster balustrade
windows wormhole: birth in the world

 

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!

06 Thursday Oct 2016

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

2013, 4*, bingo, eyebrow, eyes, face, hyperbole, lips, posture, speech, teeth

                                !

                hy!         – browraise
                purr       – lippurse sharp
                bowl      – ohm eye god
                leee       – alltheteeth clickety click

 

 

 

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

eyes wormhole: AT-tennnnnnnn – waitfrit waitfrit – SHUN!
posture wormhole: and smile / like a bud
speech wormhole: The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J Redford – Safe Home

 

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three musicians

28 Monday Sep 2015

Posted by m lewis redford in poems, poeviews

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

1830, 2104, brother, eyes, gaze, green, guitar, hands, landscape, lips, neck, pink, portrait, silk, sister, sky, sleeve, velvet, white, years

 

 

 

                three musicians

                the velvet sleeve crumpled
                from out the musty landscape
                the silken collar waven white
                from the green velvet bodice
                the cinnamon-milky neck from
                tremulous-springy collar bones
                the chilled-pink ear that
                directs her gaze newly upwards
                as her sister guides with held
                hand-unto lips-engorged sky
                past the gaze of brother into
                her eyes her eyes from which
                berry-sweet new chordings
                can be found on the guitar neck

 

Of One Heart – Cornelis Kruseman, 1830

 

 

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

eyes wormhole: gre[wh]y / has Daddy left us?
green wormhole: Morning in a City, 1944
guitar wormhole: city twilight
hands wormhole: recline
pink wormhole: Totnes
sky wormhole: The Louvre in a Thunderstorm, 1909
white wormhole: I do
years wormhole: 1963

 

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gre[wh]y / has Daddy left us?

01 Tuesday Sep 2015

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

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Tags

1960s, 2013, blackberry, blue, Daddy, dawn, drawing, eyes, girl, green, grey, hair, lips, mauve, mother, mouth, nose, orange, portrait, question, red, sleep, sunlight, train, trees, yellow

 

 

 

                           line-drawing of a child asleep
                           against the mother’s arm
                           is just cross-hatch about her cheek
                           and block-smudge under her jaw
                           and up her neck but the features
                           concentrate around her eyelashes
                           nostrils and lips stepcloser more
                           concentrated hatching and smudge
                           but suggestive-enough to upturn
                           down lids to relax

                           hair in art-deco 60s lines in streams
                           overlap in shallows reaching and
                           returning carriage rock to armpit-
                           warmth to roll relax to fall sunburst
                           flutter through tree tops make the
                           mauve dawn essence of blackberry
                           jelly redorangeyellow b l u u u e
                           g r  eeeee   nnnnnnnn   gre[wh]y
                           has Daddy left us?

 

 

 

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

1960s & eyes wormhole: that comicbookshop in dreams,
blue wormhole: recline
dawn wormhole: lifetime
girl wormhole: Brugges April 2015 – looking lost
green wormhole: corner of Plum Lane / Eglinton Hill and / Shrewsbury Lane
grey wormhole: dream 260815
hair & mother & mouth wormhole: The Godfather III: // AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGHHHHHHHHHHHHH …
mauve wormhole: my life / of others
orange wormhole: new year’s eve 2014; train up to London to / walk the bridges across the Thames, and / listen to the voices say it is, and was, like, / but get back home before the fireworks / obliterate it all in the emptying twilight
red wormhole: along
sleep wormhole: Evening Wind, 1921
train wormhole: the peculiar continuum of trains
trees wormhole: The Louvre in a Thunderstorm, 1909
yellow wormhole: Ashdown Forest / 080213 14:47

 

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… Mark; remember …

"... the impulse to keep to yourself what you have learned is not only shameful; it is destructive. Anything you do not give freely and abundantly becomes lost to you. You open your safe to find ashes." ~ Annie Dillard

pages coagulating like yogurt

  • Bodhisattvacharyavatara
    • Chapter 1
    • Chapter 10
    • Chapter 2
    • Chapter 3
    • Chapter 4
    • Chapter 5
    • Chapter 6
    • Chapter 7
    • Chapter 8
    • Chapter 9
    • Introduction
  • collected works
    • 25th August 1981 – count Up
    • askance From Hell
    • Batman
    • Bob 1995-2012
    • David Bowie Movements in Suite Major
    • Edward Hopper: Poems at an Exhibition
    • Eglinton Hill
    • FLOORBOARDS
    • Granada
    • in and out / the Avebury stones / can’t seem to get / a signal …
    • Lapping Reflections [Deep Within Waters]
    • Miller’s Batman
    • mum
    • nan
    • Portsmouth – Southsea
    • Spring Warwick breezes / over Bacharach fieldwork and boroughs with / the occasional shift and chirp of David / in the pastel-long morning of the sixties
    • The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J. Redford
    • through the crash
  • index
    • #A-E see!
    • F–K, wha’ th’
    • L-P 33 1/3 rpm
    • Q-T pie
    • U-Z together forever
  • me
  • others
  • poemics
  • poeviews
  • teaching matters
  • William Carlos Williams
  • wormholes

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