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Friday, 20 July 2012

Tuesday comes locating itself easily between Monday and Wednesday

a thought
just a thought Robert,
it’s coming up to the time
when you are usually thinking about making a book of this journal
the autumn/ winter
crow laughs
autumn/ winter
as if they are things
like beaks and claws
levering and pincering time
into large chunks of carrion
memory
trapped and located in dreams of what
can you remember last nights
no

well look at last years and see I it rings a bell…
and I am gifted with a Stop Press quotation
which speaks of wisdom and private fibres of being
and I think about context and weaving
and weaving a life on the loom
or

Ariadne gifting me a ball of thread and a sword…
to slay the minotaur and ten abandon her on the island of Naxos to be discovered by Dionysus
some say the god told me to leave her on the island
at any rate she chose to hang herself
then he chose to find her in hades and take her to olympus
earning her the status of the gods…
well that’s how wiki has it…
me -

I think
she took him by the hand
and led him to the edge of the world
look down
look down and see the world which you have created
look up and see the world to which you go
he looked up and down and saw no difference
he said so
she smiled
closing their eyes
they noted that no world existed and Berkley was right
worryingly
the others never learned either
lumping on in some ungainly
almost
undignified way toward death
with no thought to cats or dogs
trees or soil
anyway


another day dawned
and eyes opened again
this time upon a plateau
a grassy mound
free from Freud
but not from Jung
this opportunity wasn’t to be missed
grasping the opportunity
with some handiness
they ran across the bridge together
he assured
her afraid
that the curtain
would not hold
and the other worlds would break through with them
and shards of glassy material
which once were woven into the fabric of life
would need the expert touch of a seamstress
no longer available
skills lost in the mists
of time and money well spent
on the ball of thread
and the sword
clasping time in space
they slowed
consolidated
met the king
opened the door
walked the path through the landscape of each others souls
criss crossing
miss matching
jigsawing
putting together patterns
in a fruitful way now after all the business with
sex and drugs and rock and roll
weaving the threads of being together
looming
wefting weaving wovenness
who know what words mean and what linked in a meaningful way means
who know what meaning means
who knows
who




Monday, 2 July 2012

wisdom in brokenness

folded
pages of gold
brightly burnished symbols
carry more than makers intent
meaning


one minute
the map is unfolded
the next steps
understood
relative positions established
moon-sun and tide aware
starry compass
needle points the way
over worn wooden stile
across mild mannered summer meadow
under birdsong punctuated skies of blue
the next minute
it is folded
another day’s muck-ravel
to untangle