concordance

Tags

2014, 7*, age, armour, discovery, Donald Fagen, expectation, eyes, flow, Gran Canaria, Have, holiday, identity, image, life, looking, music, passing, Salinger, sea, sitting, sun, Sylvia Plath, waves, writing

                                                                                                how to be
                                                                                in a holiday resort
                                                                where the Have is strolled
                                                and swaggered and tattoo’d
                                catching glance like after-image
                when the eyes are closed?

                                                                ~O___,

                                why aren’t I writing?            Well
                                                                I am
                but I was expecting to see something else when I wrote
                                the flow of another holiday
                                                rather than the
                                                                concordance
                                                that I have still yet to discover
                                in my writing eyes wide
                                                closed

                                                                ,___O~

                                                                certainly
                                                the sun and skin keep me
                                                                lapping without gain
                                                                and replaying the chorus from the ‘Nightfly’                
                                                                                unsure if I ever got the verse

                                                                ___“O”—

                                                                but nevertheless
                                                I still worry that I don’t write
                                                                as Plath and Salinger would lifefully so

                                                                I even know the answer
                                but I cannot sit at the moment,
                                                                I thought I had armour by the sea but it has

                                                                so quickly rusted
                                                and I’m overweight and 54 thinking
                                                                of illness and waste

 

 

 

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

eyes & Salinger wormhole: slightly / uphill
flow wormhole: happen//ing
Have wormhole: pass and / fro
holiday wormhole: holiday
identity wormhole: h’rk ‘eh ‘heh ‘hair ‘yeah ‘eh?
life wormhole: I turn to wake up
looking wormhole: Tara mantras
music wormhole: in the Java ‘n’ Jazz
passing wormhole: ‘someone …’
sea & sun & Sylvia Plath & waves & writing wormhole: jump start
sitting wormhole: woman / has worked in the gym / got a build

 

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jump start

Tags

2014, 6*, alleys, bodies, exploration, faces, flesh, following, Gran Canaria, holiday, mind, nerve, sea, settling, sun, swimming, Sylvia Plath, thread, vista, waves, writing

                                                jump start

                sun-holiday can’t write
                                wanting to have written
                                                explore new alleyways find new vistas

                                                but the flesh
                is too blurbly and the faces too sneery
                                to settle my mind –

                                                                hanging stalks in the waves
                                                coming ashore
                                not coming ashore clinging to finger butt –

                that I cannot find a thread
and I cannot follow a nerve down to wherever it flinches
                                and tightens

                like Sylvia did in the
                                Letters for a Birthday
                                                at Yaddo

 

 

 

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

faces wormhole: so pleased to see you again
holiday wormhole: forgotten anything
mind wormhole: where it has taken birth / may it not decrease …
sea wormhole: wasted –
settling wormhole: in the / Citadel / Park / a leaf / new / ly fell
sun wormhole: the evening
Sylvia Plath wormhole: landscape of cloud over London / with differing depths of grey
waves wormhole: divergent // direction
writing wormhole: reating & wriding

 

the evening

Tags

2014, 3*, beach, evening, feet, Gran Canaria, light, portrait, sun, toes, woman

                      out-stretched on her side

                           foot poised
                           each toe relax-

                           apart for the
                           sun to shimmer-

                           between the pads-
                           rounded blocking

                      the light before the evening

 

 

 

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

beach wormhole: 20th century
evening wormhole: the sitting room
feet 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
light wormhole: … vague / thunder
sun wormhole: a nice grey woollen picnic blanket
woman wormhole: woman / has worked in the gym / got a build

 

a nice grey woollen picnic blanket

Tags

2013, 6*, Ashdown Forest, blanket, bodhisattva, cars, children, driving, feeling, finding, grey, responsibility, roads, safety, sentient beings, sun, talking to myself, teaching, trees, warp, weft, wool

                                              OK
                                I think I get it:
                a nice grey woollen picnic blanket

                                I found the grey
                when crossing the road for the umpteenth time
                                safely

                                I felt the wool
                when I finally allowed that cars will keep driving
                along the road, well where else could they
                                go?

                                I suspect
                that there might be a fascinating check design
                in the warp and the weft but I am too busy
                to explore this now backward and forward across
                                the road

                                there
                are some trees and a sunny glen over there
                I can spread the blanket wide and enjoy
                the meal I carry heavy on my back there
                right after I have crossed my hundred thousand children
                                safely

                                one
                by one as they pop up to the side of the road, w-hupp, here’s
                                another one

 

 

 

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

Ashdown Forest wormhole: memorial
cars wormhole: municipal garden
grey wormhole: every step I take
roads wormhole: 1968
sun & trees wormhole: while
talking to myself wormhole: free
teaching wormhole: ‘let them slide off …’

 

while

Tags

2013, 5*, aircraft, Beatles, drops, garden, laundry, mist, New York, sound, streets, sun, telephone lines, trees

                reading about John Lennon
                settling into New York after
                the split with the Beatles while

                the mist is hanging on the trees down the street
                and the sun is trying to burn through on the washing
                I’ve put on the line and drops

                hang regularly and irregularly
                from the telephone wires all
                through the medium of stacking planes

 

 

 

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

garden wormhole: municipal garden
mist wormhole: such such potential
sound wormhole: divergent // direction
streets wormhole: slow enough / to have love
sun wormhole: windows // and balconies
trees wormhole: where else

 

windows // and balconies

Tags

2013, 4*, balcony, buildings, city, columns, cornice, Europe, imperialism, morning, sun, windows

                the imperial buildings of Europe stand derelict
                except for their columns as the morning sun

                edges the cornices and the modern city rises
                already awake through the high broken windows

                and balconies

 

 

 

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

buildings wormhole: 1968
city wormhole: Infantino / district of Gotham
morning wormhole: where else
sun wormhole: morning sun
windows wormhole: the quiet whale

 

morning sun

Tags

'scape, 2013, 5*, clouds, dove, flying, haiku, morning, passing, sun, trees

                                              morning sun

                         flock of turtle doves
                heave low over tree and high
                   below cloud, glinting

 

 

 

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

clouds wormhole: landscape of cloud over London / with differing depths of grey
haiku[esque] wormhole: ‘quick – she’s gone to pay …’
morning & trees wormhole: municipal garden
passing wormhole: written relief to / creeping anaesthesia / through palimpsest / and crankled page
sun wormhole: garden

 

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

 

too much in arrival

Tags

2*, 2013, anxiety, arrival, being, cafe, coffee, conservatory, driving, smell, sun, travelling

                     too much in arrival

                     was it the sun-washed
                     matching placemats in
                     the café conservatory

                     or the sharp linger of
                     nervous armpit (not
                     mine) the coffee or the

                     eighty mile drive here
                     that make it impossible
                     to relax my forehead?

 

 

 

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

anxiety wormhole: to rescue something
being wormhole: wasted –
coffee & travelling wormhole: prelude: // travel
conservatory wormhole: while
smell wormhole: lost and city ground
sun wormhole: somewhere

 

somewhere

Tags

'scape, 2013, 4*, bushes, life, passing, seasons, sound, sparrows, sun

                new season sun
                and busy sparrows
                in a bush somewhere and

                the gather and pass
                of a large vehicle
                rumble past the end of the lane

 

 

 

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

life wormhole: to rescue something
passing wormhole: the bench
sound wormhole: what wounds have you got?
sparrows wormhole: con / sum / mate
sun wormhole: Lapping Reflections [Deep Within Waters] – agricultural show