Posts tagged ‘birth’

18/09/2013

First Born

 

Before the writing on the rock,

Had scratched the miracles away,

Before the clay had stamped its songs,

Before creation raised the seas,

 

Before the ignorance of Greece,

Before Tibetan chants of death,

Before the worthless wars of Rome,

Before the Dreamtime thought to dream.

 

A child began its cry for life,

Like every other cry at night.

Her cries rebounded through the hills,

And echoed up beyond the skies.

 

Her father had a cheating mind.

Her mother screamed and broke the ground.

 

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16/08/2013

Object No.1 – Bedside Clock

 

I’d count the pills, you’d slip the ticks,

The clicks that flicked the days away,

Mechanical and fractured flow,

The souvenirs of sleep and fear.

 

You would have been with me throughout:

Between the pier and Marble Arch,

Before the facts, before these deaths,

Before computers drove my world.

 

We’d count together, fall as one:

Your face at night, at two, at three…

I’d ache with age, you’d creak with time:

The world outside would take us soon.

 

We might be measured, might be cast,

My skin as dust, your cogs as rust.

 

 

11/04/2013

The Water Lathe

 

From minds creating waterfalls,

In fields of buttercups and flies,

The start of summer crashes in,

And breaks the stream of forming words.

 

Those thoughts which capture pike in webs –

Suspended from the highest boughs –

Are linking up connections dead,

A million human years or more.

 

So summon fish and burst the banks,

And cast about the newborn springs.

The lathe is working hard on dreams,

To join the lakes and neural paths,

 

And everything connects and splits:

This heaven Earth has Eden streams.

 

 

for Ursula Le Guin

 

12/12/2012

Song 4: One

 

The night of summer winds and storm

And hoping that the rain would fill

The helpless silence of my fears:

I found a tree and offered prayers.

 

The wind had picked a broken fence,

Cartwheeled it passed my open door.

It smashed into a neighbour’s car:

I locked my door and walked on by.

 

Pathetic miles on mile I traipsed

In blistered cold towards the Downs.

Before the hills I found a wood,

With branches falling, streams in flood.

 

I picked the tree, I left my words,

Then fell in tears of true despair.

 

Lewes Road, Brighton where I listened to One by U2

28/10/2012

Autumn

 

The air is rich with death and gold,

And webs of broken silk and dew.

The whispered flick of ancient storms

Are ebbing through the stubble straws.

 

Throughout the night the fungus spread,

Their fruiting bodies seeping spores,

And ripen new in curious forms

Amongst the foetid mulch of leaves.

 

And out of sight a rotting bird

Lies molding, feathers matted thick.

Its skull and beak like twisted shoots

Have burst from earth and reach for skies.

 

The writhing mass of Autumn wrings,

The gasping first and last of things.