Posts Tagged ‘silence’

John Berryman

He made it all up
False malady – told with a poker face
Staying at home and watching TV
Counting the leather pelican winds
Making obstacles out of dust-motes
Letting his neurons short circuit

Grieving Henry was drunk
‘Wasted again’ Mr Bones
Spirit fades like a camera flash
Hope falls into the abyss
Life holds Henry in a fist
Squeezing out residual rebellion

Clench, clench, spit
Like orange juice
Or blood on sheets
At night when silence descends like mist
He remembers
How blessed are the dead

Advertisements

piggie

Winter trees without leaves
Bare Branches interact and spread
Clouds spun out in white woollen puffs
Blue patches of bare sky
TV aerials perforate the sky-line
Stainless steel roofs ripple
Lungs full of fresh air
Piggies pick out stems of grass in the back yard
Burrowing through tall grass and weeds
Playing their endless chasing game
Silence watching over piggies
Peace Man Yeah

 

 

jupiter

A moon among many
Rocky sphere rotating perfectly blanketed in space time
A part in a symphony of spheres singing the universe
Cold beyond cold and empty
Sparse atmosphere as fine as powder
Craters pock-mark and indelibly render the sphere imperfect
Blanketing piercing points of light – stars a scatter of light as many as grains of sand on a beach
Diamond pinpricks on the hide of night
So black endless abyss between the stars
Circling a gas giant, colourful banded in the sky – browns, yellows, reds

Swollen with swirling gases over a rocky core
Ringed with star-dust
Jupiter
Beware the red storming eye
Which watches malevolently
Rotation and orbit in perfect gravitational order
In the silence of space

Drumheller Valley Storm Clouds

A poison rain falls on me
I am broken like a forgotten plate
I am shattered like a window by a baseball bat
I am drowning in pain
I am buried in melancholy
So hard to get traction in the mud and the mire
With malevolent crows waiting to pick out my eyes
And vultures circling in a dream of my dead flesh
Behind me a vicious beast pads along
Satisfied in a pace that intimidates
Waiting to eat me up like a potato chip
A beast with horns, a beast with fangs like razor blades
A beast wit foul breath and a stench of rotting meat
Covered in shaggy purple fur with blood red eyes that glow in the dark
My back aches from a multitude of steps in this miserable pilgrimage
I know it will be over soon
Death will come as a longed for kiss
Then silence

night2

That energy that fuels the force of light
Drives towering trees to skies and thrusts stars higher
To coruscate like glitter in my eyes
Charging my heart and bedazzling the sky

A full moon haunts the hobo-hungry night
Diana on her hunt to queer her circle
Moonlight silvers patches on the plains
And cold soft light is mingling with the marshes

What ghosts now haunt the miscreant night?
What eyes gaze through groaning gloomy glass?
Haunting thoughts and flickering metal silence
Cold fingers clutch me from a tomb

Oh take me to a world beyond pain
Where I am perennial and eternally waiting
Where there are no more tears and no pointless lust
And only peace and silence and love
Numb and kind of Stoned
Perhaps enlightened

TransperthTrains-Aseries1Gen-Front
No-one looks their neighbour in the eye
On the train.
What fearful diseases must lurk in the soul of another human being, transmitted with a glance,
That we like sightless sentinels avoid all eye contact
On the train.
We stare at our feet, we stare our phones, we stare at the crappy public service announcement posters,
On the train
‘Next Stop Welshpool.’
Smart phones hypnotize the passengers like spinning mandalas
On the train.
They poke out arcane alphabets with their finger-tips and thumbs,
On the train.
But smart phones are not smart enough to teach community,
On the train.
And only the old or sanity-impaired will talk to you,
On the train.
The pretty girls seem to have some profound and esoteric secret that they will never share,
On the train.
We come to the next stop, some of people get off, a some get on
On the train.
The doors slide open as on star-trek with barely a whistle,
On the train.
And deep within I wish I had the courage to speak some overwhelming profundity about this sorry situation,
On the train.
To leave words hanging in judgement over the hollow loneliness of a carriage full of people,
On the train.
Jerimiah would have said something,
On the train.