constant hummm

Tags

2016, 6*, air, arrival, being, Birmingham, buildings, city, compassion, curtains, echo, evening, hotel, laughing, loneliness, pavement, pink, realisation, salmon, searching, shops, sky, sound, speech, travelling, voices, walls

 

 

 

                           so we arrive
                           encased in the hotel
                           with constant hummm

                           or is it blown air
                           in the walls,
                           between buildings

                           eddying in a
                           pink-salmon sky
                           somewhere searching

                           for something from
                           which to bounce
                           to be; so, what to do in this

                           fair city: as the light falls
                           behind the curtains
                           voices claim and ex

                           and ‘ngaarrh’ and hack-saw-
                           laugh to company echo
                           from paviours and shops front

                           just slightly too late to
                           realise that we are all
                           just lonely, after all

 

 

 

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

air wormhole: first Spring storm
being wormhole: diligence
buildings wormhole: 1967
city wormhole: bavardage
compassion wormhole: finding my own true nature – Plumstead, Woolwich, 190915
curtains wormhole: 1968
echo wormhole: Hurst Green
evening wormhole: Michael Redford: triptych
hotel & sky wormhole: the missing chord // the now-silent seagull
pink wormhole: nothing to say
realisation & walls wormhole: Jericho
searching wormhole: and that’s where I are
shops wormhole: words tumble like / boulders – poewieview #25
sound & speech wormhole: currency of generations
travelling & voices wormhole: being in love – poewieview #26

 

deeper

Tags

2013, 5*, columns, dark, evening, olive, passing, pink, salmon, sound, speaking, temple, throat, town, unconscious

 

 

 

                past the deep pink-slash columns
                                of the temple
                                              steps wide and flanking
                                the salmon town behind
                                              in olive evening

                                              I needed to utter
                but my conscious mouth could not form
                                around the sound
                                              deeper than the back of my throat
                                dark as the shape
                                              that suddenly shifted in the temple

 

 

 

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

evening wormhole: tag cloud poem VI – anyone’s eyes
olive wormhole: multifarious: the Dark Knight Returns (1986)
passing wormhole: waiting room
pink wormhole: is she / looking at me?
sound wormhole: Batman#175