I’ve heard
Metaphors like Haikus
Trip up
Meeting
Each themselves recognises in the other
That which the other’s eye alone can see
Be here when you’re here.
Be there when you’re there.
But never leave here.
Behind Words is some thing.
I thought it
The moon over Mosborough.
Something you heard
Something you heard a thousand times
But this time you heard it
Going to take a shower
Don’t stop – start smelling
The jasmine is out
Sunt Lacrimae Rerum
for Roger and…
He entered these doors a deep sea diver.
This day, with the helmet of his bell suit
fogged with tears, he told of deciphering,
of streams of struggle, the letting of blood,
the patience of grief, know-not-I-what-else.
That time is fallen? Floored is memory?
Ignorance is mercy? At this threshold
the pressure of love is in its semblance
to the unspoken. Tremulous again,
the risk of breathing an air too viscous
curdles his words, their favours sad sodden.
Walking through the graveyard
with everyone and poetry
thought comes
Automatic
Intimate
Impelling
Then a bee…
Unmarked by paths
The cluster Of grasses
Some railing voice
Another’s Message
To climb Home
You reach the wall
Stop
And speak
Affeared
Too late has
Meaning now
Caw
Hearing the trickling, stuttering, crickle-crackle magpie
I saw you
Arranging a twig by your feet
Before leaving
Flapping to a further tree.
Where from the farthest reach of your invisible eye
your brother or sister or lover or mother
Gently clapped through the branches to a present perch
Had I dreamed I was up there?
The neighbouring weave of branches,
All ready in your eye
Your relation joined.

Talk about distraction
🙈
