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Wednesday, 30 January 2013

Tuesday, 29 January 2013

Over and Out

Pour in on oneself
Pour out of oneself
Good wine, fine music
Poetry of the instants

As if a sickness
A relief
Fed over the body
Fed through the mind

As one day I might say it
Say it with such ease
That neither I nor you
Would know it


Monday, 28 January 2013

Realism (Not Magic)

I sit on a curved bench
Look towards the turbine hall
Listen to the echoed screams
Of a solitary child, set free to roam

I will take this home
Insert quite a pause, just here

Afterwards, to reflect
Upon a passage of my life
Ever so definitely finally closed
At the dark end of the chamber


Sunday, 27 January 2013

Infinitely Small Spaces

I queue for Kusama
Take time out
To be covered in spots

With the force of Tsunami
Tales of a bedroom
Without a door

A viral army of incidental notes
Lumps in the throat
Your love moved on


Saturday, 26 January 2013

Wait & Wake

The woman who our intuition tells us will 
look back, and who never actually existed

Pessoa

All those words of tight black dresses
As he drifts into other consciousness
Cars that roll down hills
To cross the stream at the forge

In another room 
The boy sleeps
Utters tired words on being woken

All denominations are here
Thousands of untold dreams
Sit at the breakfast tables

For the writer it is the time to wait
Luxuriate in her hurtful absence
Selfless of his own existence