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24 March 2011

George



in my fathers study
holding a flannel to his thin
skin
black mountain vowels
in the oohs and aahs
of his comfort
nine
mile
point colliery
a 14yr old boy
in white
moleskin trousers
first name Alfred
eight hours on the tarmac
at Frankfurt Main
two in the air
four to get home
to be there
to be here
on Christmas day
a mona lisa magnet
gripping you to my fridge
I hold my sisters
shoulders
you talk to us
about Chrysanthemum's
I think
white star line
s
s
doric
to canada
painting the first class cabins
20 years of
saskatchewan, edmonton
calgary, british columbia
vancouver island
winnipeg flying club (1934)
tiger moths (1939)
picking gooseberrys
me
wheeling sarah
around your garden
in the old hulk
of a wheel barrow
and
the violin
you made
from a wardrobe

16 March 2011

in the apse of her sleep

in the apse of her sleep
mosaicked allegories
histories dreams
the minutiae
dissolved in waking
rests here
each tessera
in telling
one story
tells
another
may you be
propelled
by a smooth
teeth baring
velocity
may your courage
be ferocious
your body strong
mind slick
as an eel
if you hit a wall
lick the blood
from your face
leave a mark on it
break it down
let the varnish
sparkle
let the undertones
nourish
sink each tiny square
into the cove of your mind
love freely
with a rock in your hand
parry the doubt
strike a spark
love in any direction
be fierce
growl at it
whorl
around the stem
of your story
lick your lips
be filled
the panorama
from where I stand
astounding

as part of One Stop Wednesday One Stop Poetry

10 March 2011

and the gift was in the giving (but the joy still hurt)

my alluvial purpose
now apparent
I feel the fierce
(unbound)
vigor
of the water
(beautiful)
rushing out
rushing over
I am the riverbed
not the river
I am the tributary
not the confluence
I am delta
(I am)
distilled
threaded through a liquid wish
absorbed condensed expelled
I shape a mouth with my sediment
form words with sand and mud
a voice
avulsed into life
the pith of this
(in the parentheses)

09 March 2011

I love your children

a diet coke, a green straw
your nervous hand
tickling half melted ice cubes
two pints
of real ale
your first
almost
date
I was there.
A rushed
velocity of emotion
tumbled through my shoulders
when you walked down the aisle
I cried
a raw
humbled howl of happiness
and when Bethy
retraced her steps
earnestly picking up
each petal she had scattered
we laughed.
I remember your children too
the idea of them
in conversation
and hope.
unspent love
spent
courage
thinned
through absence
I grieve for you
for you both
I grieve the loss
of not meeting them
in my arms.
I love your children

08 March 2011

chasing the sunrise from a train window

the mosque


surveying the street
it has painted for me
the sky
it has coloured
the mosque rests
brush handle up
still dipped
in the paint pot

06 March 2011

how to tell a story



stroke the crevices
of a crumpled piece of paper
smell the dirty walls stained with living
thank the timber structures threading light
illuminating narrative, a monologue
a pause
see the story before
and the one before that
imagine a season
the smell in the air
((It's painted right there))
imagine the texture of a song
each note swinging from the eaves
rip a piece off
an entrail
place it in your pocket
pull the greasy chain of the backdrop pulley
put your full weight into it
climb the scaffolding
sand down the walls until your hands go numb
lick the dust from your wrists and sit
exhausted
centre stage
((be brave))
and speak


Part of One Stop Poetry's Picture Prompt Challenge. Photograph taken by Jacob Lucas http://live.jflphotography.com.

02 March 2011

we share skies


we share skies

the cool blue bruise
of my evening

a flushed
cheek
in yours

we share skies

curling lip
of young
dawn

an
older
gaping
mouth

we share skies

long shadow
of noon sun

wavering
defeated

we share skies

frayed swathes
of light

narrow
into
pin pricks



all the days flavours
gathered
collected
remnants of conversations
peel off the subway
walls
train numbers twist
into time tabled
digits
fish plates clank
under thick heavy boots
workers
ooze
onto
the track
stress fractures
soothed
current isolated
brash bark
of ballast
the only sharp
sound I hear

part of http://onestoppoetry.com/ one shot wednesday

01 March 2011

this tight
knot of words
loosened
by the tug of her finger
she did not know
I would unravel
into a tangle
into her tongue
I climb
the wall
a precipice
a plateau
from here
the landscape fresh
before my eyes
stretched far
beyond the curve
of her back
her body
a gradient
I slide down on
bare feet
touch ground
strange and new
each texture
dangerous
until trusted
the pressure in my palm
your hand
I hadn't noticed
resting there

she carves the night



she carves the night
into
a
gutter
a throat
chimera's swivel
their hips
and
invert
mortar
no longer
safe
air around
now protected
fat oblongs
of history
two parked
next to eachother
compelled
by the
bourdon bell
we spill
into the
square
into
the Seine
I smell
of
river
of burnt
wood
this is
disparate
this is
radiating
lines
a
vascular
vaulted
cathedral
ceiling
I think about
Caliban
I think about
Ariel
like a cumin seed
caught
between my teeth
I always
hated
Prospero