turned backs of saddened victory

Tags

1964, 2016, 6*, bone, Dr Strange, eyes, faces, flame, light, lime, message, purpose, role, Steve Ditko, Strange Tales, thought, windows, words

                while little more than bone bends
                calcified from the hip to graft with

                hideous and perverse satisfaction
                to phemur on which it sits, the

                messenger is sent lumbering clothed
                in outsize roles and ragged over

                cross-hatch purpose to breach the
                barrier of any window and the light

                that it may let fall across all facial
                thought – oh, the faltine flames

                that flicker lime between furnished
                brow, the words, not seen, but rise

                in smokey scapulas, the being in
                cross-hatch has frantic eyes, the amulet

                has light which cannot be framed –
                turned backs of saddened victory

 

from the Dr Strange story, Strange Tales #116, ‘Return to the Nightmare World’, January 1964; Lee & Ditko

 

 

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

1964 & faces wormhole: 1964
Dr Strange wormhole: the skyline
eyes & thought wormhole: between
light wormhole: tremule
lime wormhole: lime crocs
windows wormhole: and ‘naerrgh’ a mention of a seagull’s call
words wormhole: at table 21 in the garden centre thinking to / replicate Hughes’ exercise for Plath about / the Yew Tree

 

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looking back over the tack / and jibe of my life I / notice there is / a fetch // after all … / but certainly not / where I had planned / or where I thought / I’d been

Tags

2015, 6*, attention, being, doing, eating, exercise, feeling, identity, life, living, need, notice, purpose, reaching, standing, strength, study, thinking

                looking back over the tack
                     and jibe of my life I
                          notice there is
                               a fetch

                I stand too much to attention
                     too alert to notice
                          where I am

                I reach far too far to get
                     that I cannot have
                          what I am

                I eat too much to treat me
                     and deaden
                          what I need

                I exercised too much and
                     stretched the ligaments
                          that contain all my effort

                I exercise too little now to realise
                     the strength I have
                          untapped

                I have studied too much to
                     know what I think
                          or feel

                                    after all …
                                         but certainly not
                                              where I had planned
                                                   or where I thought
                                                        I’d been

 

 

 

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

attention wormhole: looking ahead
being & life wormhole: passing
doing & thinking wormhole: circuitry
identity wormhole: immeasurable love
living wormhole: addictive
study wormhole: reading // unstirred

 

addictive

Tags

2*, 2015, addiction, eyes, living, lurch, obligation, purpose

                it’s that damn eyes-
                shut-adrenalin rush-
                lurch out of should
                and purpose that
                congeals addictive

 

 

 

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

eyes wormhole: Pilot 125 … // … being excursion in the interludes
living wormhole: work
obligation wormhole: Clea

 

being / doing

Tags

2013, 5*, being, doing, failure, identity, ignorance, meaning, purpose, recogniton, selflessness, success, virtue

                the point is not in the
                      doing of things
                or in the not-doing of things or
                in doing things differently to my
                      greater good or shame

                it is not in the success or failure of
                      their being done
                or in the recognition or overlook
                      that I have done them

                it is not even in the virtue
                      or ignorance of what I do
                but in the being
                      while they are doing

 

 

 

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

being & doing wormhole: nothing doing is important / or worthy in itself
identity wormhole: divergent // direction
meaning wormhole: holiday
recognition wormhole: not / the Catcher

 

nothing doing is important / or worthy in itself

Tags

2013, being, doing, emptiness, purpose

                                                nothing doing is important
                                or worthy in itself

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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

being wormhole: divergent // direction
doing wormhole: nevertheless
emptiness wormhole: no / thing
purpose wormhole: to rescue something

 

to rescue something

Tags

2017, 20th century, 7*, anxiety, blue, chair, childhood, Dad, depression, dining room, divorce, Eglinton Hill, family, feeling, Genesta Road, great aunt Mary, life, purpose, talking, Thames, visit, windows, World War

                Mary came to visit one year,
                I think before Dad left, sense

                of anxiety and visitation to
                get things right; we gathered

                in the dining room, she sat
                regal in one of those blue

                wing-back chairs to one side
                of the fireplace; they talked

                of things and the way things
                were while the war built up

                and the way things are now,
                we crawled about under the

                legs of the chairs while they
                talked, through the tunnels

                to rescue something with
                several teddies in tow; we

                kept one of those blue chairs
                when we moved, I remember

                sitting in it feeling the coarse
                knap and the horsehair stuffing

                in the lonely bedroom with
                my back to the high windows

                anxious about the purpose
                to do with my life … is

 

quite naturally, but unforseeably, this was written quite considerably, and apocryphally, after: green-wine, but then everything knits together eventually

 

 

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

20th century wormhole: ‘hope for things to come’
anxiety wormhole: ‘never look up’?
blue wormhole: occa / s / i // o / n / a // l // l // y
childhood & Dad & divorce & Thames wormhole: south horizon
depression wormhole: what wounds have you got?
Eglinton Hill wormhole: alighted
family wormhole: familiasyncopation
Genesta Road wormhole: work
life wormhole: darkness
talking wormhole: embodying
windows wormhole: that comicbookshop … // … in dreams

 

beepbeep

Tags

1960s, 1967, 2016, 7*, abandonment, colour, commentary, courage, crying, Dad, depression, direction, divorce, driving, evening, eyes, feeling sorry for myself, freedom, groundlessness, Have, home, hope, identity, life, light, looking, now, others, passing, people, pointlessness, purpose, renunciation, revolution, sense of self, sex, sign, sound, texture, time, true nature, Victoria & Albert Museum, world

                                did Dad leaving
                                trigger my sense of revolution or
                my sense of depression
that there is no purpose
                                in the world
                that I would eventually have to find the courage
to face those new tremors,
                                but five years on,
                                                there, between the given textures
                already cheap and fraying

                                or did revolution trigger Dad to leave
                                                                and find some other way
                                                                                to find some truer nature?

                -O~~~

                                I didn’t want the headphones, now
                                I didn’t want the commentary
                                                all safely wrapped and bordered
                                                                so I kept my own eyes
                                                                open and saw 50 year old memorabilia
                                                                                strangely mute, now
                                                                                despite the peacock-print

                                                and little in between
                                                                save shuffling overcoats with
                                                                no sense of direction where to go
                                                                                save their right of individual                
                                                                                                                way

                                                                                                ~~~O-

                                I don’t think I want the revolution
                                anymore –
                                                away with your awkward sex! –
                I want to know the innate freedom
                                I trust I have already,
                                                save for my sense of right of way

                                                                I cried for fifty years later that evening
                                                it is hard to lose your way returning home
                                                                cut up and turning in circles
                                                                                hoping for the right lane
                                                                                                lights on and direction to go                
                                                                                                                everywhere
                                                                                                signed
                                                                and passing overhead
                                                                it is hard to arrive
                                                toe to toe
                                                                with a fifty year old overcoat
                                with no face
                                but a blinking eye
and me with no headphones

                                                                beepbeep

 

on 30th October 2016, I visited the Victoria & Albert Museum exhibition @You Say You Want a Revolution’ – Records and Rebels 1966-1970 (a birth day present, thank you, Carol); my Dad left our family on 2nd November 1967, my eighth birthday, and the divorce became final by 1969; I think it was Brigitte Bardot who said something about the ‘tremors’ which were felt in the late 60s, but few who had the ‘courage’ to face them, but I can’t seem to find the quote verbatim; we got a bit lost, at first, driving back from west London

 

 

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

abandonment & Dad & people wormhole: chartless …
depression wormhole: the both passive and transitive / non-presumptive pre-conceptualist attenuation of being
divorce wormhole: 1967
evening & identity wormhole: sleep now
eyes & life & sound wormhole: Lapping Reflections [Deep Within Waters] – snow
groundlessness & pointlessness wormhole: [once a] dilemminal [always a dilemminal]
Have wormhole: Doctor Strange III – the needs of billions
light wormhole: adjustment
looking wormhole: Clea
others & passing wormhole: passersby
renunciation wormhole: escape from Flat Planet
texture wormhole: zazen
time wormhole: the too big moon
world wormhole: The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J Redford – Snow

 

sleep now

Tags

1997, 2012, 7*, breathing, cotton, doing, dream, dress, embarrassment, evening, feet, girl, hands, identity, lap, legs, movement, muse, neck, portal, purpose, quiet, searching, shop, shoulders, sitting, sleep, streetlight, talking, toes, waiting, writing, yellow

I am safe in a corner shop (looking for portals on shelves in racks)
evening gathers inside ending-day-busy streetlights just          on

a girl and myself waiting to be served quiet     I am seated     waiting
the girl is fidgeting her shoe drawing her foot out slightly

to see her veined feet the root of her toes; she notices me noticing
and moves to another part of the shop adjusting         something

I am sorry; she has on a yellow dress; she comes back to the counter
stands beside me talking to the shopkeeper adjusting her tights now

plucking them up raising her dress a little, she steps and sits on my lap
without talking without referring to me still talking to the shopkeeper

clean crumpled yellow cotton neck; oh; a little bashful I put my arms
around her waist, she continues to talk engaged in her business

her hands come to rest on my hands on her legs I am embarrassed
but she is comfortable in my lap moving and leaning as she talks

thank you yellow cotton shoulder, now I know what to write
now I know what to do, now I can breathe      deeply, I think I could

sleep now

 

 

 

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

breathing & doing wormhole: I
dream & girl & muse wormhole: adjustment
evening wormhole: traffic lights and broad avenue
feet & writing wormhole: returning home handsome
hands wormhole: tag cloud poem IX – haiku is awkward / the more that is left in / like uncombed hair
identity wormhole: passersby
searching wormhole: cut while you’re ahead/cut while you’re a thread – poewieview #35
sitting wormhole: time
sleep wormhole: gone black
streetlight wormhole: well,
talking wormhole: The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J Redford – Snow
waiting & yellow wormhole: Lapping Reflections [Deep Within Waters] – snow

 

the endless acts of life

Tags

2015, corridors, doing, exit, hotel, life, living, meaning, nirvana, purpose

 

 

 

                                the endless acts of life

                                feeling for meaning
                                along meandering corridors
                                lit only when arrived and
                                darkened again when gone

                                looking for the reason I am
                                searching for the exit, then,
                                to look back with dismay
                                on all those comical stumblings

 

 

 

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

doing wormhole: the tangles fall apart
hotel wormhole: 1959 –– MANHATTAN –– 2012
life & living wormhole: lo
meaning wormhole: escape from Flat Planet

 

escape from Flat Planet

Tags

2015, angle, being, buildings, comics, doing, identity, life, meaning, pointlessness, purpose, renunciation, speech, superhero, Superman, talking to myself, time

 

 

 

                                                              escape from Flat Planet

                                                              ugh, must … get good … at
                                              anything … make everything
                                around me – worthwhile

                                – except
                I don’t know what to do
                                              in a life that hides its worth
                                presumed rhetorically
                                experienced missing … hngh, if

                                I …
                                can do … what
                             I can
                exponential [to what I am] maybe,
                just maybe, I will find the right angle
                out of all this seeming plane,
                                                              maybe I could soar the tallest building
                                with a single bound

                                and yet …
                and still decades on
                                I am bound in old borders
                arranged cleverly on a page
                                four-colourful and heroic but still unable
                                              to account for the
                                              always-higher
                                              rooftop
                                from which I can swing
                                                              despite all the words of bubble balloon and effect

                                … I have to accept
                being unmasked again and again –
                                              but it is so humiliating …
                                              so much depends upon
                                              my strong arm; don’t you see!!! –
                                … have to become
                                my own secret identity
                                beneath all dimension

 

 

 

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

being & doing wormhole: silhouette: // second / thoughts
buildings wormhole: up here
comics wormhole: Dr Strange VII – the madness of Mordo
identity wormhole: truly invisible
life & pointlessness & time wormhole: on walking through walls
meaning wormhole: nothing // matters
renunciation wormhole: Tulips by Sylvia Plath – How Far To Step Before You Raise The Other Foot
speech wormhole: let’s have some ice creams
superhero wormhole: Woolwich Central – making life better II
Superman wormhole: multifarious: the Dark Knight Returns (1986)
talking to myself wormhole: my life / of others