-
Nearly Nonsense (In Praise of Obituaries)
In memory of my golden cat who when attracted by a fools gold drowned on his way to El Dorado In memory of a household fly who when seeking the transparency of the universe flew into my kitchen window In memory of my reflection which aged before my eyes I still seek your likeness In […]
-
Swimming Pool
Casual Graffiti Green fresh cherries Red ripe grass Resting by the swimming pool With an empty glass Swimmer You submerge for hours reflected only by the deep sun rays exploring other worlds Adam & Eve We drowned the serpent at dawn As it had swallowed the sun loungers All is well in the mad garden […]
-
Lente Currite Noctis Equi
That I should dream of you As you reside near In the desolation of our slumber. Let the slowness of our journey Be the warm blanket That I shall wrap around you. As our mounts rest We will listen to The vanities of the night. The stillness of the dawn Will soon embrace us in […]
-
Imaginary Journey
The violet rose petals fell Watched by the dancing moon I did not rest on their carpets
-
Edmund Stowe
The trees of his flooded fields still require water I have counted the dead of Europe and have painted their likenesses on the long walls Cronaca Souversiva I have a belief in the existence of God Ci sono i fantasmi sopra i gigli bianchi I will cover the martyrs of the great shame On the […]
-
Mother and Daughter
Frame times frame by frame Does this dry plate record The twelve times meeting Of a mother and child. Only the economy of time Knows no truths Of the suspended walk And the freeze framed kiss. 1980
-
Captain Webb
When swimming the captain will hear The Song of Angharad in the sounds of the waves. She will swim beneath him unseen such are the mysteries of song
-
From Arthur Edward Waite (Letters to Alice)
When apart My heart shall be thy garden As I travel away from you I will cherish your Thoughts in separation I will write my long letters To a poet That I will never meet This is the Song Of the Spring to the Summer
-
Games with Spoons
I collect the spoons of the great exhibitions so that I may witness the concave reflections of my ancestors
-
Reading Dunbar At Avoncliff
Did you not fall at Flodden my secular priest ? or do you still live on these itinerant pages ? within the sound of the Avon clear . c 1973