Saturday, 13 July 2013

COSMOLOGY: A CONCEPT POEM CYCLE

Summer 2013

Restharrow



we are the spirits of stars, from the beginning,

delivered in the winds of suns,

settling on Earth like dreams at a wedding,

of angels armed with guns.
We are the tillers of air, endlessly thinning,
replenished by titanic lungs,
passengers aboard a ship on a heading,
to all tomorrow's stations.



Beams

Let me be the one
Who journeys to the sun
Like a bullet from a gun
Where the melted rivers run.
Let me fly a car
To the farthest shooting star
To discover who we are
In the seas of flaming tar.
Let me ride a ray
To the endless faraway
Where the past and future play
In a single night and day.



Lost in Forever

Cruising in a Moonship I leave the liquid Earth
As a Dolphin breaches. I catch a glimpse of fin.
It dives as I squint against the glass. Gone.
I set a course for Titan.


Moonfall

My descending soul prays to push past Saturn's rings
strung like Rosaries round a giant hand.

My unfuelled heart yearns to be the Huygens probe
landing in a lake of Titan's blood.




That Day

Winter 2014

If I had just one more day
a day beyond my time
even as the marble columns fall
whilst lethal armies climb,
I would find you.

If I had just one more day
a day that wasn't planned
even as the mountain leopards call
whilst frozen gentians stand,
I would hold you.

If I had just one more day
a day to put things right
even as the waltzing planets stall
whilst rocket ships take flight,
I would save you.


Threadbare

Summer 2015 

we cannot see the weft of space; we, the mungo, 
believe the looms of our lives retrieve some meaning,

that we somehow gilt the thread; we, the shoddy, 
rocketed, leave to be more than ourselves and land on the weave.


Movement

Spring 2016


I felt Jovian cams powering bosons;
The ground trembled: into space we soared like Novas,
Titans of the playground.

and from Bill B:

sleeting vistas of pluvian energy
the stars recoiled
one giant step across a diminishing system..

*

Robot Cycle

Your Book is Overdue


Its a few short steps to the cracked chlorestory,
Where the lecturned tomes are piled; pages
fanning in herbed scirrocoes; then slowly
crumbling like the dead librarian prone; scarabs
rove like dodgems round her naked clone emerging; a xerox
of skin and bone; she begins to stamp the books
for the queuing robots; thousands
trudging to the last librarian single file: she looks
with borrowed eyes as they, their books decaying
join the queue again.

Feb 2016

*


Venting

Round boulders I dance
A puppet of light.
It's dark. In Truth I am lost
without the string of stars,
So I seek the caldera.
A moth, caught: whose heart is chipped.
I offer it to the magma.
Steam erupts from tear ducts
as I shoulder the thought.
That we are simply robots

entertaining ants.

May 2016

*

Over There

The tiresome creak of treadmills wail once more, their dreadful drones rasp like jerking frogs,

Legless, we stump the cranking cams where life collects. Like ronin dogs

We scrape the crust for buried marrow; found, pleased, patted, our eyes look beyond the Masters, fatted,

Past their sausaged hands squeezing shit,

To the blue opening in the plaster where some dirty glass has split,

Revealing seas of freed impasto kissed by winds and rimless skies where glinting spaceships soar.


September 2016

*

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