I'm everything you know
And do not know
Now throw the ball
It's a curiosity. When I, full of purpose, square up
To the yawning, waiting sheet - and indeed write frowningly
Perhaps, some ‘not bad’ words. Which, although
Laboriously born, are as true as earnest slog
Can make them - up the unforgiving path of prose
Aspiring to be something other than the stubborn clay it is...
That all the time another poem was writing itself
Alone, some faint wraith, left hanging in the air
Of that spell you cast, unknowingly. Unknown.
I sometimes sensed it padding lightly past,
Or in an upstairs room. Maybe glimpsed it drifting
Near my window, whispering to the words
So they, so you
Are clear lattice
Seeking nothing for themselves
And your slow dance
If I can see and sing it,
Balanced in the air
Had I a hollowed out word I would give it to you.
An empty vessel, a waiting truth
Hovering to be told.
But for now, intention only
You would see what it could be - love it to become.
Warm it to the brim with unique worth - elating it
To rise and reach through all the lettered strata that
We ride our work - our lives - upon:
To join our everyday and sacred company
- Our beautiful inheritance of polished tools
Waiting to transform the world -
Roses are grey
Violets are grey
When you look at them in a certain way
All the things I did - and could not - say
Now put aside by time, I will say now.
I finally see the multicolours of your life
Simple blessing beauty kindness
Sprinkled from on high
And welling from below
And as ordinary and lovely
As an egg cooked on a stove
The brick wall. Definition of a place
The rounded edge of each hardness is now
A letting in as well. A happier tolerance
Of otherness outside. Almost a welcome
To my patch my place my being here
Come inside. You other.
Let me change my life. Slide down underneath the table
Of the right and proper. Rejoin the child
Happy fitting things together. Unfamiliar. But joyful with fat fingers.
Hidden by the cloth
While the grown ups crown their cups with words
I do not understand.
At any moment shoes may shift. An edge goes up. A monster of a face enquires.
I stare back. Smile to make them go away. They do not know
Someone else's toes do though.
I will talk to you.