Tag: Poem

  • Notos

    [9 September 2019] The midsummer autumn is a glory all its own, the ripening, the closing down, the suspending between light and light, the flash of light that wreaths the sky in scarlet flame and yellow and pink and tyrian purple; the thought gathers, condenses, ripples outward from the still waters like a single touch…

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  • Sandstone

    [6 September 2019] You walk in the deepnesses, in the spaces between. In my mind, I see your chest rise and fall, inhale and exhale, the air in and out, breath, till my mind is filled with the liminal space between you and me and not-me. A car horn out the window. The ground swells,…

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  • A Mystery

    [5 September 2019] Let us go then, To the time when the evening is stretched out like the dawn, A diary of comings and goings, Perilously stretched taught and strung high on the rafters Between Orion and Andromeda: The fog rolls in off the lake water, Covers streets and windows and streetlights That line the…

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  • Ode to Iapyx

    [04 September 2019] The road is wider now; the vernal moon hangs suspended between branches of the old pine tree. I hear you breathe, breath buoyed by songs I’ve never sung, or never knowingly, weighed down by stories I’ve never heard, permeated by pigments and fragments and hues of worlds I’ve never seen, stacking up…

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  • Meditation 42: On knowing

    [3 September 2019] We rise somewhere between flights of fancy and pools of desire, counting the moments between now and fulfilment until they amount to something greater than any one of them could ever hope to be by themselves, a testament to longing, an icon of freedom, a cavalcade of promise pent up and hemmed…

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  • The fallen winter rose [a collaboration]

    [30 August 2019] Today’s poem is a collaboration with my dear friend, the Norwegian poet Orkidèdatter. From her first poem I read till now, I have been consistently captivated by her words and her art. She is not only a talented writer and a gifted artist but also has a beautiful and tender soul. I…

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  • The Beheading of John the Baptist

    [29 August 2019] The miles drag on. I wear a rut14 months thick in the space betweentwo railway ties. I count the distance,measuring it in bygones and forgones, consideringall things as nothing except that they might bemore than I initially suspected, making mudfrom dirt and saliva, and serving upmy eyes on a silver platter, the…

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  • The Myth of Icarus

    [28 August 2019] Morning, and I see your back dented in and moulded into the shape of longing and autumn and my stubble. The seconds punctuate your breath and my breath in an elastic pizzicato, a give and take with a logic deeper than any rhythm I have heard before. The curtain sways gently, a…

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  • The Remains of St. Paul, 28 March

    [27 August 2019] We watch in silence as the bulldozers tear down the rest of the old church, brick and plywood and old green carpeting descending from the sky and landing in a heap on the bare earth. The dust cloud lingers, disseminates, spreads and works its way onto our skin and into our bodies,…

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  • Narcissus, ii

    [26 August 2019] but the cracks in the mirror only belie something deeper, more transient. I smell the smell of you, of me, of us lingering in church pews and train cars and hardwood floors, taking root, mingling with dust and dim sum and desire, feeding off of sunlight and moonlight and whisky. Something strange…

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