Archive for June 9th, 2013

09/06/2013

A Week in Slovenia (Part 7 – After Thought)

 

1. Tourist Boats

 

We skim the surface, hide from facts,

We see ourselves reflected back.

A dreaming ocean laps through streets,

A knowing sea floods round the trees.

 

We are the silver and the gold,

We shine our light on glittered crests,

We speak as if we lived these lives,

We dive for pearls and bring back shells.

 

And this is how we see the world:

As waves, as mysteries deferred,

As everything we want to be,

As everything we never were.

 

We watch you work your grinding shifts,

And think we see the harbour lights.

 

 

2. Borovnice

 

I come from salamander peaks.

Around the veins, around the mind,

I bite as mountain vipers strike,

As sharp as pine, as deep as time.

 

I loosen tongues, I calm the fears.

My red is black as blood is thick.

I’m crisped by snow and swelled by May.

Within my soul the rivers flow.

 

The mountain clouds and owls arrive.

You hear the church bells call the hours,

And half awake you hear my voice.

I offer up my essence here.

 

My hillside memories are true.

I filter rock, and ice and dew.

 

 

3. And What Will Become of Us?

 

I hope you find a job this year.

I hope you find the love you need.

I hope your stories will come true.

Not much – I know – but hope is all

 

That anyone can give right now.

And yesterday the markets filled,

And yesterday the sun was bright,

And yesterday they sang your name,

 

But now the wind blows from the north.

Across the plains, the dragons stir.

From deep within the mountain caves

Come sounds we wished we’d never hear.

 

I hope you keep the joy and peace.

My thoughts are with you through these years.

 

 

4. Holiday Photos

 

Somewhere an avalanche is still,

The point just seconds from its fall.

I close my eyes and count out loud:

The avalanche awaits the pull.

 

I’m there, beside the mountain lake.

The waters clear, then from above

The ice does not collapse. The world

Does not come tumbling down on me.

 

The stillness is beyond itself.

The lake reflects the silent peaks,

The forests barely breathe at all:

I see a cloud refuse to roll.

 

I’m there – just for a while – I’m there.

The avalanche just hangs in air.

 

09/06/2013

The Dance and the Dancers Both

 

The dance begins at half past two.

They break us, bend us, lash us to

Their silhouettes and pirouettes,

Across the maps of fiefdoms formed.

 

On barricades and barbed-wire proms

They build themselves a wall of trees,

And there they prance their mountain dance

To rules set out by forest kings.

 

We cower beneath their dancing shoes,

Their ballroom, breath room, cold war gloom.

They chat, and rat-a-tat, and crack

Our tarantella minds with tap.

 

At three they leave us to our tears,

To empty moves in darkened rooms.

 

 

stream of words poem written in response to:

http://mindlovemisery.wordpress.com/2013/06/09/prompt-7-nonsensemadness/

 

 

 

09/06/2013

Night Birds Calling

 

In other times, on darker nights,

The ones who carved the stones would quake

At forest howls, at spirit streams,

At shadows flitting through the trees.

 

But us: we see the lights of planes,

We hear the distant hum of roads,

We search the nightjar – tick that box –

We walk straight lines of forest tracks.

 

Oblique we stand – their world breaks through –

There’s distance here that we can’t know.

We hear the birds, we sense the fear:

Religion, science, mean little here.

 

Our pride and indolence are new,

These creatures scream from something true.