The geometry of eking a living,
a harvesting, a seeing, the sense of air, 
a body clothed - whether the temperatures rules us 
in wide planes, and whether we can sleep
in an open sustenance of breeze

Protection to play the while as a mimick-bird
lyres and lazes in flight’s reach - a garden to scarcity,
love to the aimless, fire and plant to the broth

here, take this, this is love, and fire and plant -
a prehistory of danger stains perception to hesitate;
when running, riding the outline of a horse to certain shores,
sand ushered smiles are the sureties  
as the common of touch to a shoulder

and accord – an agreement of limbs,
a lullaby of hands of hers and his - 
waving words that were primarily song, 
that became trust by sun-ray then grew 
as animal proximity to the
green weight of ka-buzzing night, 

the fixity of crystal telegrams
found in brimming deltas transmitting from
their internal elsewheres nouns that
blanketed shared landscape and system
to signpost past jagged meanderings.

John near drowned at Point Immediacy
but surrendered to the nets, to familiarities,
to consignments of waking, dreaming and descriptions
that said “this one I didn’t know, this one I let go,
 this was one was not captured” 

all this struck me, the unrelatable, the fish that
escaped leftwards in invisible moves. We knew
the chapters of escape – you and I landed
that role too and lingered in pages of clouds
whilst others sought to wake us with
the common of touch to a shoulder.

Our then-returned simplicity wrote signatures
as generous as broad summer.

Views: 29

Comment by David G Landgrebe on August 2, 2012 at 22:30

Nice piece of work AutoPirate, there is plenty there for a feast, with or without the fish.

David. L

Add a Comment

You need to be a member of Sydney Poetry to add comments!

Join Sydney Poetry

On Facebook

@sydneypoetry

Social

© 2021   Created by Adrian Wiggins.   Powered by

Badges  |  Report an Issue  |  Terms of Service