tragic and archival

Tags

'scape, 2013, 4*, driving, history, months, moving, practice, progress, sitting, time, tragedy, travelling, years

                      so

                      after months,
                      even years

                      of sitting
                      and feeling

                      I have achieved
                      some coagulation

                      set and
                      solid-enough

                      to make along
                      a country road

                      I can still
                      get caught

                      by the ‘tut’
                      to a wrong turn

                      tragic and archival
                      which takes

                      the best part
                      of fifty miles

                      and a change
                      of scene to

                      stand down
                      and move on

 

 

 

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

history wormhole: wakeoutofadream
sitting wormhole: I keep / waiting to be discovered and get lost in anticipation
time wormhole: time
travelling wormhole: written relief to / creeping anaesthesia / through palimpsest / and crankled page
years wormhole: 1968

 

ah … // oh … // meanwhile … // … // tha ya ta …

Tags

2016, 8*, being, breathing, child, clothes, colour, comics, despair, Dorian Gray, emperor, exclamation, exposed, flowers, Granada, hope, identity, inspiration, light, love, mantra, model, phrase, portrait, Prajnaparamita, rain, rainbow, realisation, retirement, secret, seeing, self, self-containment, self-image, speech, step, thread, tragedy, vanity, wandering, words, world

 

 
le mot just
the piquant phrase
                                         the simple model rising magnificent
                                         from cavalcades
                                         of stoic tumbling

                                         threads through like
                                         weave which clothes me
                                         presentable to the world …

                                         but no one sees the
                                         emperor’s clothes of
                                         such fine thread it cannot
                                         be seen, no wise child
                                         to point and exclaim
                                         the hang and drape
                                         to put an end to all step –
                                         “look, mummy, that man
                                           is not an emperor!”

 

 
less than naked
I am seen right through
                                         adrift of discourse
                                         I step with stubborn countenance,
                                         all the better to
                                         stare myself into existence,

 

 
awkward and
hidden away in some attic
                                         lest I lose [what I haven’t
                                         got] self-contained in trembling
                                         vanity, secretive in hope
                                         of things to come, desparate
                                         in tragedy that my grimy
                                         portrait might be seen …

 

 
wander, wander
around the flowers, smell
                                         their colour, breathe their
                                         light and let the light rain
                                         fall in shards of rainbow,
                                         cleansing with love –

 

 

 
                      om     ga – te     ga – te
                                      pa – ra – ga – te
                                                      pa – ra – sam – ga – te
                                                                      bo – dhi     so – ha

 

retirement #3 when in Granada … visit the Alhambra, and visit the Generalife gardens … [if you have booked up to three months ahead]; on the walk up to the palaces are trees and shrubs which are plenty-watered by sprinklers, in the morning sun the sprays will often catch a rainbow at their edge; the bordered captions in the poem are comic-conjunctives, there is a beginning, middle and end being told here, folks; the mantra: thaya tha om gate gate paragate parasamgate bodhi soha, is the mantra of Prajnaparamita, the Perfection of Wisdom; it can be somewhat semantically translated as “it’s like this: [everything is] gone, gone, completely gone, completely and perfectly gone with no loss, enlightened [dispersed, dispelled] all-right!”; but what’s ‘gone’: “the slings and arrows of outrageous romance” … of one’s self and the whole world positioned awkward to placate its mewling little story, as stolen by Joni Mitchell, who was talking too much at the time, from ‘Willy the Shake’;

 

 

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

being wormhole: pocket
breathing wormhole: within
child & light wormhole: this aching // and spacious dichotomy
comics wormhole: chartless …
identity wormhole: not / the Catcher
love wormhole: love and precision
rain wormhole: monument to vainglory
realisation wormhole: passing below
seeing wormhole: con / sum / mate
speech wormhole: Lapping Reflections [Deep Within Waters] – snow
words wormhole: just saying, is all VI: // accountable / for my own outbreath / …
world wormhole: the skyline

 

familiasyncopation

Tags

2016, 7*, apartment, baby, breeze, brother, cactus, children, cotton, family, father, Granada, laughing, meal, passing, portrait, running, sound, streets, sun, Sunday, talking, tragedy, uncle, walls

                                familiasyncopation

                                down
down in the narrow streetways of the Gran Realjo of always sunny Granada

                                                                clak
                                                vacuum clak whines
                                quickly clak scrapescrape around
                the ap – clak – ment

                light cotton cloth hangs
                                back into the room
                                                hangs
                                                relents
                                                hangs                hangs

                family
                                sits
                                                variably
                                                                for the
                                                                                meal
                father’s sentence – chairscrape –
                                ri – co – ch – e – t – s
                                                around four walls
                                                                in warm and all-inclusive statemental embrace                
                                                                                and continues – despite interruptions – all the while                

                children lament a chasing game
                                of plakplak sandals
                                with surprising tragedy
                                                in the street below an uncle

                pushing the baby
                                half on the pebbles                from time to time
                                                “a^hahahaha … herrr”
                                                                talks staccato with his brother

                light cotton cloth
                                billowing out, not quite
                                                          not quite
                                                snagging
                                on the cactus

                leans back into the room

 

the title runs together the Spanish word for family (which ends in the useful prefix ‘a’ which links) with syncopation to provide a gloriously arrhythmic portrait of a family meeting for midday dinner on a Sunday through the wide open windows of the apartiemento; I’m not even sure if all the noises I heard were from the same family, but that doesn’t matter, they were, they were;

 

 

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

breeze wormhole: The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J Redford – Simon Upon The Downs
family wormhole: ‘field of corn …’
father wormhole: Doctor Strange III – the needs of billions
passing wormhole: industrial estate
sound wormhole: … swap round
streets & walls wormhole: passersby
sun wormhole: woven-through
Sunday wormhole: The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J. Redford – Olly
talking wormhole: sleep now
uncle wormhole: Lapping Reflections [Deep Within Waters] – from arm to nature, doing nothing

 

my / superpower

Tags

2011, ambiguity, Batman, Beast, Buddhanature, Daredevil, dilemma, disempowerment, distrust, Dr Strange, emptiness, Hulk, identity, ignominy, ingenuity, insight, Kryptonite, naïveté, poem, presence, prohibition, release, Spiderman, stealth, Superman, superpower, Thor, tragedy, wisdom

 

 

 

                                               my
                                superpower

                I am not implacable like Superman
                                              which is both my own Kryptonite
                                and my own presence

                I am not grim like the Batman
                                              which is both my own Tragedy
                                and my own wisdom

                I am not angry like the Hulk
                                              which is both my own Ignominy
                                and my own stealth

                I am not strange like Stephen
                                              which is both my own Ambiguity
                                and my own naïveté

                I am not a human god like Thor
                                              which is both my own Dilemma
                                and my own ease

                I am not webbed in moral struggle like Spiderman
                                              which is both my own Disempowerment
                                and my own ingenuity

                I am not fore-sighted like Daredevil
                                              which is both my own Prohibition
                                and my own insight

                I am not mellifluent like the Beast
                                              which is both my own Distrust
                                and my own poem

                                no,

                                no

                                my super power
                                is far far greater
                                than all of these

 

 

 

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

Batman wormhole: early evening
Daredevil wormhole: now, the verticals go down as well as they go up
disempowerment wormhole: tag cloud poem V – draft-ness
Dr Strange wormhole: Doctor Strange I – the trashcan tilted the better to see now the street
emptiness wormhole: tag cloud poem IX – haiku is awkward / the more that is left in / like uncombed hair
identity wormhole: need
naïveté wormhole: true nature
Superman wormhole: sit
superpower wormhole: exactly equal
Thor wormhole: song of irrelevance

 

practice

Tags

2013, awareness, doing, emptiness, practice, self-love, simplicity, tragedy, vindication

 

 

 

                                              practice

                                to simply
                do things, simple things,
                                simply

                                by touching the vindication
                                              the betrayal
                                the plaint the tragedy
                as rainbow and see-through as they may be –
                                there

                each one
                                of them both
                                              pretty and
                                                              nothing

 

 

 

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

awareness wormhole: sitting
doing wormhole: CV
emptiness wormhole: nothing // matters
practice wormhole: just saying, is all V: // … systematic and consistent disempowerment
vindication wormhole: prayer to my self

 

The Godfather III: // AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGHHHHHHHHHHHHH …

Tags

2014, blood, cog, decades, film, Francis Ford Coppola, hair, Have, identity, loss, mother, mouth, naked, power, sound, The Godfather, tragedy, ugly

 

 

 

                                                                 The Godfather III:

                                                                           long
                                                                 silent         cry
                                   mouth open ugly naked
                                                 power gone

                   and every cog of every decade caught
                   on the same piece of rag coiled around each tooth
                   limp bloody and hair-fallen in her mother’s arms

                                                                                              … … …

                                                         … … …

                … … …

                AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGHHHHHHHHHHHHH …

 

 

 

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

film wormhole: I need to keep my eyes open / in meditation
hair wormhole: the tangles fall apart
Have wormhole: the lines are not that straight / after all
identity wormhole: dream 230315
mother wormhole: sight / seeing
mouth wormhole: sitting
power wormhole: the Conqueror
sound wormhole: the / very gradual art of sitting

 

it is complete

Tags

2013, acceptance, beauty, career, doubt, duty, giving, hierarchy, identity, others, talking to myself, tragedy

 

 

 

                it is complete
                I can listen to all the pain
                                all the doubt and all the diminish
                                where the Venn diagrams
                                              overlap rather than merge
                                              convening a local hierarchy
                                                              always inverse to the myriad
                                                              always averse to the area left
                                              uncovered and unknown but
                                              I cannot expect the same from others
                                I can give            and become wide but
                                it will not be reciprocated
                up down or sideways
                and that is my duty

                                (and that is my beauty)
                                but not my tragedy
                                and not my failure

 

 

 

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

acceptance wormhole: nothing // matters
beauty wormhole: my beauty
giving wormhole: truly invisible
identity wormhole: I can say / that I do all sorts of dance
others & talking to myself wormhole: prayer to my self

 

prayer to my self

Tags

2010, adjustment, anger, breath, care, career, dedication, discovery, dream, injustice, legacy, letting go, life, light, listening, moon, others, prayer, reputation, self, space, talking to myself, tragedy, vindication, work

 

 

 

                                prayer to my self

                                I had my stab at life – obdurate and rarefied –
                                I glimpsed the moon and captured its light
                                but nobody wanted it

                                let the tragedy go, let the injustice go
                                let the anger and indignation go
                                they are not the self

                                let the devastating ripostes before whole crowds go
                                let the overlooking and insignificance go
                                they are not the self

                                let the secret work and its Discovery – the Legacy – go
                                let the live-on-with-open-wounds-and-dejection go
                                let the career and the reputation go
                                they are all not the self

                                let there be the space from where all of this came
                                to let go and adjust, let there be the breath for new dreams
                                and the listening to declare, the pause for resolution
                                and the care to let go

 

 

 

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

breath wormhole: the Conqueror
career wormhole: the stance of Buscema // qualitatively
dedication wormhole: dedication
dream wormhole: dream 260713
letting go wormhole: lo
life wormhole: the endless acts of life
light wormhole: of a sudden // all the time
listening & talking to myself wormhole: the / very gradual art of sitting
moon wormhole: up here
others wormhole: good looking
space wormhole: fall
vindication wormhole: multifarious: the Dark Knight Returns (1986)
work wormhole: I do

 

the stance of Buscema // qualitatively

Tags

2010, being, breathing, career, doing, identity, John Buscema, learning, life, markbook, marriage, meaning, parenting, poetry, settling, talking to myself, teaching, tragedy, vanity, world, writing

 

 

 

                the stance of Buscema

                                I build the marriage
                                I raise the kids
                                I teach the pupils
                                without much intending to
                from day to day without plan without scope and sometimes, even, badly
                                because that’s all I do
                                when I just breathe

                                I write the poems
                                I create the markbooks
                                I structure the step and tick of learning with plans to rule the world
                but no one gets it and no one notices
                                because it’s all that I do
                                to make sense of the world just
                                for me

                                bah,
                away with the vanity and empty élan
                                              but; no, rather
                                that I should breathe and step the vainglory qualitatively with the
                                              whole sense of being
                                                              that I
                                                              truly am

 

John Buscema (1927 – 2002) drew like a languid opera – his posture for to conjure such stuff as dreams are made from

 

 

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

being & identity & life & settling & talking to myself & writing wormhole: library: start where you are IV // all the distance I have travelled!
breathing & world wormhole: [start where you are III] – delve
career & meaning & teaching wormhole: Totnes
doing wormhole: … back to the outbreath
learning wormhole: the Apple
markbook wormhole: fly
poetry wormhole: start where you are I

 

… back to the outbreath

Tags

2009, abandonment, asking, being, breathing, child, crane, creativity, divorce, doing, ideas, inspiration, nostalgia, performance, planning, questioning, settling, sitting, tragedy

 

 

 

                                                                                                                                                the Plans
                                                                                                                                the Grand Ideas
                                                                                                                the Tragedies
                                                                                                the Inspirations
                                                                                the Nostalgia
                                                                the Counting
                                                the Creating
                                the Safeguarding
                the Performing
the Buzzzzzz

                                all giving
                                voice to the
                                child who
                                asked why
                                does it have
                                to happen to
                                us but no one
                                answered too
                                upset …
                … back to the outbreath

 

 

 

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

abandonment wormhole: bottom of Herbert Road to the / foot of Eglinton Hill dream
being & doing & sitting wormhole: time proceeds
breathing & creativity wormhole: Trinity Arts
child wormhole: the four whores of the apocalypse
crane wormhole: the 20th century
divorce wormhole: just words wiped across a line
settling wormhole: gently straighten