at Kreukenhof

Tags

2019, 5*, air, Amsterdam, breeze, clouds, compassion, curtains, fashion, fire, flowers, gravity, growth, Kreukenhof, letting go, photograph, retirement, river, role, samsara, sky, sound, traffic

                gravity, and river air hold the curtains
                down, breezes and distant traffic make them
                adjust against the sill stiffly, audibly

                but then, my people, I am learning
                not to resent your burning like fire
                when you play your endless roles like fashion

                and I am learning to let clouds fill the sky
                as you take every single photo
                of every single flower at Kreukenhof

 

Kreukenhof is a display garden near Amsterdam sited amid surrounding fields and fields of cultivated tulips, grown in strips of colour across a whole field; when we visited this year, we stayed on the Botel, a converted ship docked on the river Amstel in the IJ bay

 

 

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

air wormhole: The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J. Redford – Sky
breeze wormhole: threshold to behold
clouds wormhole: Lapping Reflections [Deep Within Waters] – sooner; / and later
compassion wormhole: light of all interaction
curtains wormhole: The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J. Redford – The Valley
letting go wormhole: mandala offering
retirement & sky wormhole: ‘don’t look at it …’
river wormhole: boiled spangle with soft centre
samsara wormhole: the Bodhisattva set out / for the Seat of Awakening
sound wormhole: the blessings of the Buddhas

 

there will be ovations

Tags

2018, 7*, acting, audience, betrayal, blood, Bodhisattvacharyavatara, breathing, brother, children, circumstance, concentration, doors, emptiness, enemy, expectation, identity, life, light, machinations, music, naked, others, realisation, role, self-grasping, self-image, silence, sky, society, sound, stage, theatre, thinking, traffic

                ah, there’s the theatre and
                inside, the stage is set,
                the audience settled, the
                lights down, thank the fates,

                I almost didn’t make it –
                the traffic at this time of day! –
                the other is here, good,
                warming up, waving that

                stick all about, making whoosh
                noises, being all athletic and
                disciplined, I’d better get ready,
                torn robe on, oh, the blood

                smear it on, quick, and
                the hanging limb, OK,
                concentrate, breathe – be
                the character – I need

                to give the performance
                they are expecting – the
                circumstance, the machinations,
                the betrayal … no, not enough,

                what if it happened to my
                children, what if it were my
                brother with the stick, oh yes,
                it’s come to this, use the silence

                of the realisation, use the
                music – slamming doors
                in the sky! – no, this is more
                than my story, this is the

                history of my nation, quick,
                I’m ready now, I’m naked,
                I’m gutted and impaled, now
                for the finishing blow – how

                glorious this will be, I have
                so much invested in this,
                there will be ovations and
                encores, so worthwhile,

                I hope he has practised
                well – knows where the
                padding is; wait, is that
                a blade, tied to, the end

 

from Bodhisattvacharyavatara, Chapter VI – verse 43-44: [43] Here is a brandished weapon, and here is my body ready and presented, both of them the causes of my eventual suffering. My attacker has laid hold of his stick (tena śastraṃ), and I both wear and brandish my body. With what should I get angry? [44] It is I who have obtained and hold on to this boil, this pressured blister of a human body – sack of suffering – which cannot even bear to be touched and, moreover, it is I who am blind-sided through my own attachment to it, so that when the pain comes and the ‘boil’ bursts, with whom should I get angry?

 

 

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

20th century wormhole: tram
breathing & society wormhole: the reach turned to love
doors wormhole: pursued
emptiness & life & others wormhole: the mantra of Maitreya
identity wormhole: I
light wormhole: travelling / back
music wormhole: and … // … sound
realisation wormhole: passing
silence wormhole: birth in the world
sky wormhole: horizon
sound wormhole: …zzh-vvttP*–… … …
thinking wormhole: ‘ouch’

 

oh, alright then

Tags

2017, 6*, beech, church, lifetimes, Nottingham, offices, passing, poetry, quiet, sandstone, sitting, talking to myself, time, traffic, trunk, windows, writing

                oh, alright then

                                sitting in a church ground
                                before a beech tree sometime coppiced

                                pushing up the ancient sandstone
                                so much quieter before

                                the ill-fitting windows
                                of terraced offices where nothing

                                happens
                                save the mark of passed lives

                                the twisted trunk
                                and the exhaust of cobbled engines

                                over speed-humps, to claim
                                that I don’t seem to be writing many poems these days                

 

 

 

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

church wormhole: {Ellen Terry’s house}
lifetimes wormhole: the balance necessary between
passing wormhole: amniotic avenue
poetry wormhole: The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J Redford – Working
quiet wormhole: quiet river
sitting wormhole: skeins of candy pink and lilac
talking to myself wormhole: so where have I got:
time & windows wormhole: all the low clouds keeping pace / through the train window, / always arriving, whether fast or / slow, but never actually moving
writing wormhole: Lapping Reflections [Deep Within Waters] – reaping

 

where did the silence go

Tags

2017, 6*, breathing, brick, Eastbourne, gables, passing, question, red, seagull, silence, sound, streetlight, the British Empire, time, traffic, trees, windows, winter

                where did the silence go
                along the rows of gables
                and chimes on the hour

                calls the seagull on the cornice
                to the seagull on the lamp post
                once, looking one way, twice,

                three times as the traffic
                feeds through the roundabout
                and winter trees branch

                and fibrillate before the
                turrets and windows of
                past red-brick Empire

 

 

 

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

breathing wormhole: with all love released
Eastbourne & red & time wormhole: growth
passing wormhole: olive trees
seagull & sound & streetlight wormhole: and ‘naerrgh’ a mention of a seagull’s call
silence & trees wormhole: The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J. Redford – Making Hay
windows wormhole: quiet river
winter wormhole: Lapping Reflections [Deep Within Waters] – snow

 

leaves

Tags

2014, 4*, coat, hope, leaves, life, notice, passing, red, ripple, roads, scarf, texture, traffic, Wadhurst, white

                                                settling easy with the ripples and billow

                                of hope and assure leaves
                                notice of sudden texture

                by the way

                                on the other side
                                of the busy road

                                the red coat and
                                white scarf waving

                                carrying
                                shopping

 

 

 

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

leaves & white wormhole: Cocktails in 1951
life wormhole: red / lacquer / door
passing & red wormhole: glide
roads wormhole: a nice grey woollen picnic blanket
texture wormhole: the sitting room

 

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

 

passing below

Tags

2014, 5*, awareness, being, blue, cafe, gaze, life, notice, passing, realisation, sky, Storrington, streetlight, talking to myself, thought, traffic, windows, writing

                what do I want in life
                what shall I write

                but I gaze out the window
                across the streetlights hanging

                in the blue blue sky and
                realise I cannot keep the thought

                I already have in mind and
                need to take notice of the traffic

                passing below

 

 

 

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

awareness & writing wormhole: con / sum / mate
being & thought wormhole: within
blue & sky & talking to myself wormhole: love and precision
life wormhole: not / the Catcher
passing wormhole: balance
realisation wormhole: traffic lights and broad avenue
streetlight wormhole: sleep now
windows wormhole: this aching // and spacious dichotomy

 

magnetic field

Tags

2013, 4*, attention, being, doing, field, Jon, poem, radio, sitting, talking to myself, time, traffic, windows, writing

 

 

 

                           magnetic field

                           dropped Jon off;
                           tried sitting a little –

                           too much traffic and radio
                           through the window

                           I’ve got about 20 minutes
                           to get a poem off –

                           look around but there is
                           nothing that draws my

                           filings up, only plenty
                           to pull my attention

                           left right and around
                           so I suppose t/here

                           is the starting point
                           as well as the full stop

 

 

 

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

attention & radio wormhole: nothing to say
being wormhole: Elektra
doing wormhole: The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J. Redford – On Doing Nothing
field wormhole: Lapping Reflections [Deep Within Waters] by Mark L. Redford – from arm to nature, doing nothing
Jon wormhole: Jon
sitting wormhole: my seat // now
talking to myself wormhole: ashramas
time wormhole: Lapping Reflections [Deep Within Waters] by Mark L. Redford – mmpph’
windows wormhole: weight of high sash windows – poewieview #33
writing wormhole: The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J. Redford – Olly

 

tired

Tags

'scape, 2012, 5*, ageing, childhood, city, evening, identity, lifetimes, light, Manhattan, money, people, power, roads, silhouette, sky, sound, sparrows, time, traffic, trees

                                                              tired

                                travelled
                a long time to arrive in New York, still the same person
                                roads
                still scraped and pockmarked since I wanted to come here as a teen;

                                trees
                still reach and lean in front of the sky,
                                city
                people still live and breathe the power of my money;

                                lights,
                go on in the evening and, between
                                traffic
                shoals, the sparrows bicker in the trees

 

 

 

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

childhood & evening wormhole: the coming of ‘The Boats of Vallisneria’ by Michael J. Redford
city wormhole: Drug Store, 1927
identity wormhole: tripping up to / London town
lifetimes wormhole: currency of generations
light & time wormhole: The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J. Redford – A Bowl of Gourds
Manhattan wormhole: 1964
money wormhole: teached / in the ass
people wormhole: The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J. Redford – Contents
power wormhole: B le tch l ey P ark
roads wormhole: always
silhouette wormhole: 1967
sky & sound & trees wormhole: Lapping Reflections [Deep Within Waters] – autumn
sparrows wormhole: 1959 –– MANHATTAN –– 2012

 

1965

Tags

1965, 2014, bridge, cars, crane, morning, music, passing, radio, silence, sound, sunlight, traffic, truck, voices, years

 

 

 

                           1965

                           the traffic
                     the cars and the blocks of trucks with their air-breaks and axels pass
                           and recede

                           silent
                     over the bridge on the way past the docks and cranes save for
                           the line

                           on the radio
                     which ends ‘instead …’ and doesn’t resolve until ‘… of me’ to
                           change down gear

 

Are You There (With Another Girl): Dionne Warwick, Burt Bacharach, Hal David

 

 

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

bridge wormhole: Compartment C, Car 193, 1938
cars wormhole: always
crane & traffic wormhole: finding my own true nature – Plumstead, Woolwich, 190915
morning wormhole: 1964
music & voices wormhole: well,
passing & sunlight & years wormhole: 1968
radio wormhole: any answers
silence wormhole: and that’s where I are
sound wormhole: impressionism