Before we have a revolution

Before we have a revolution can we just be very clear

about who it is we’re fighting and what it is we fear?

 

 

 

Remastered

the established are in for it.
frames gone, borders sliced,
the mass is spilling over.
the vivid are dying to escape,
digitally shot and hung.
the stark strokes clean
as on leaving the old master.
happy couples find themselves
together, facing the light
or left in shade. watching
children gleeful, agape, annoyed
how did we find ourselves here
willing to smooth old scores,
pieces, papers, exotic folds,
starched collars, dark eyes
gazing out into a new world
of philosophers and cloth-makers
sailors, travelers, poets,
the old saviours and legends
who steal cursory glances. upwards
outwards, onwards. settlers return
their collective gaze, fired
remastered. a touch, a leap,
a glare, all guns blazing, almost
as aware of the darkness as we are.

HOOP-LA

Shun materiality. Object-
less thus, the two, int-
ertwined like prose and
poetry, reclined to recon-
stuct Rodin’s Kiss whi-
lst Billie Holiday sang
her heart out the window
under a November 1973 mo-
on. He wore a leather jac-
ket, the latest levi flares
and a pair of leather
high-heeled boots as he kick-
started an arc of circles
near the top of a large
canvass. Some fell over th-
e edge but one remain-
ed whole

Capitals

Eight letters.  The harbour is flanked by Scottish hills fired with independence.
Three Across.  New York scrapers barely scratch the low sky.  Four Down.  English seaside resort attracts film and media types looking to impress Hollywood critic.  Something, something, t.  The weather is everywhere and the winds carry ice, pollen, penguins and orcas.
Too far, too fast, and too soon.  On old shorelines people paddle in the footsteps of pioneers, browsing. Anagram.  From all over.
Coffee shop scrollers read all about trade agreements and recoil. They’re already knee deep in beans, grains, brain foods and thirteen dollar helpings of porridge oats.  Maybe a consolatory coffee-to-go for the wanderer parked outside wrapped up in strange looks.

Sparrow

Life is a sparrow

Life is looking at me

Life is the tree

Life is the flow

Life is underground

Like is overhead

Life is the touch

Life is the sleep

Life is awake

Life is rolling

Life is landing

Life is soft like flowers

Life is strong

Life is continuous pain

Life is a smile

Life is joy

Life is in my mind

Life is inside me

Life is the sparrow

Life is looking at me

 

Sparrow

Observing the refusal of time

Here the capital letter hauls
There the comma fails
Here an exclamation of surprise
The pause is sick in my throat
I say a bleak hole
Swallows yoke and fell
And rules:-dots and days
The kiss on a cheek
And bison all in
And there surveyors stand
Measuring precaution
Spectators stillborn
Readymade for reinvention.

Creatures of the Sea

Poems.  Strange world where
We move differently
That one resembles a horse
That one, a star
We desire
Pattern and shape
Under the sea we surface
To gasp fear
Others bring oxygen
And stay under
Forever.