Aphids

If ‘you and me’ became a thing,
Then would you be
Content to bring
Your heart unto the table alone,
And share your part in brine and bone
But ask for nothing less from here?

O, I could give you that, I fear,
Too easily; but idols fade
So fast, and love can wither
Like the grass, so I would rather
Live first deprived of glamour,
Shorn of the bloom of summer,
Even though we’re at the height.

The golden beams will glisten;
The apple, it will shimmer,
And we’ll cry out in the heat
And the humidity. But none
Shall falter, none shall take that forward path
So bold, and yet so wandering.

Yes, let us fade, instead of this
Too too ornate temptation; let us take
The greener and the humbler way,
The naked and the day-to-day.
Instead of seizing greedily
Those things which we think make us free,
Like tiny aphids let us strive
And crawl towards a better life.
Although we whisper, let our voice
Carry beneath the general noise
And outlast all this earthly splendour
In cold stone holy, natural grandeur.

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At times

Every time I write, I feel a fool
When all the thought, the work
Into which I pour my all –
Dissolves.
Sometimes, it’s true,
Mad paper shreds won’t buy
My sanity, and bleed no genius,
But waste.
At other times, as sure as gravity
God will drop through the thought,
Clunking at the bottom
Like gold.
But even at these times,
Have I been gullible? Have I lost
My wit, over-gestating, still too much
Waste paper?
Oh, all my heart, it bleeds for you;
And all my lungs, they breathe
For you. For you,
Alone,
On whom it all –
They all, that is, all of my parts
Collected – gathers, never will dispel,
Or fall.

Liminal Work

It’s like prayer –
Out of fear you come,
you go.

You never want to stay,
you stay – away,
You play
Around,
Ellipsical,
And taper out the day until you cannot bear
One moment more of sun —

So then you plunge;
The water’s cold;
The fear is old,
but bold
and plays
In several tortuous ways
On innards,
Swirling,
meeting.

Just ask,
you say?
Just knock,
and it will go away.
To knock,
the door is all in dark,
and you must reach it-
plunge in deep —

One moment more,
This lasting fear
Will soon be gone
And you’re absorbed
In light-full patterns all around-
It’s like your eyes are full of light,
and beaming, LIGHT,
On every book that can be found.

It’s LIGHT that is of You,
The life of men,
The light that never dies, the darkness
Has not seen it. But it lasts –

and Penetrate the broken shards,
deep unknown cavity of dark –
I’ll stay a lifetime in this dark,
Just to be beamed upon by You.

London, Brave Heart

Aslan calls Lucy ‘Brave Heart’ –
and do you say- you do?
to me?
 
It’s right, you see, you say,
I shout – to London
‘My brave heart’
 
and how would I have known?
how would I know without You?
that voice within me,
trumpets,
‘Brave’,
and this is where,
this is where you were belonging,
with words unspoken (no words needed) –
‘this is where you belong’.
 
From Scotland I come,
rushing headlong
in the rugged land shouting within,
‘London, I come!’
 
From the north I come,
Finsbury Park (spare home)
And all the dregs are nearly stifling my candle flame- from the ride on the train –
but, together, we come –
I am not one,
With You I’m done;
London, we come.

III (untitled June poem, published belatedly)

Today, the day he walked away
Was the day the Muse came back to me.
A handsome boy with ruddy cheeks
And corn-made hair, and happy weeks
Ahead: all fade in moonlight now,
He loved another, he loved before,
He’ll love again and I’ll grow grey:
Yesterday he walked away,
And today the Muse comes back to me.
 
Today, the day of emptiness
I found a sound way to be full
With sighs and groanings, not a word,
Not chasing wind, and not absurd
But God’s around, and God has heard
And whispers to my drowsiness:
Today, the day he was away
is the Day my heart came back to me.
 
Today, the night of sadness
Was the night my voice was rasping, hoarse,
And I loved to hear the sound, of course;
The night I listened to some words,
And smiled with people, all absurd,
But wished for nothing, like the night
And liked to talk, up late at night
And think-meander poems slight
About how my love and how my God
Vanished, and we came together again:
Most blessed am I, above all men
For the night my God came back to me.

Diamonds Crown

Why would I be
Unworthy
To wear this crown
When all, it’s given
Given unto
Me?

Me:
The dispossessed,
Impoverished,
Yet loving many,
Many all around.

Around,
I hope I can give out,
Out into the open air
Air to breathe,
To feel,
And that’s riches.

Riches enough?
For today, it may
May be enough.
Enough for one,
But tomorrow is two;
To search out new gems,
Gems for a holy head.

To wear this crown
I don’t deserve;
But I will serve,
And diamonds come
Enough for one.

When a screw comes loose

 

Earlier it was severance,
A wrench low down when I was tight on,
A tearfulness when I thought of rejecting him,
Heartbroken when I lost all my gold coins.
 
Gold soon turned to grey,
Bleached and blanched to sickliness
In the many hours of nights awake,
Repeating the same old antimatter,
Chewing the cud on antimatter.
 
The screw turned back and forth,
The notch scraped harder,
The lockedness – all I wanted, 
Staying stable
Stable into death I rolled.
 
No, he’s still gold
But I have turned to ash.
 
All it took
To resurrect
Was a profusion of ambers,
Of amethysts,
Rubies and yellow,
Yellow gem of Sun you are – 
Music soothing,
People grooving,
Screw’s a-moving.