Take it off.
Take it all off and show your skin.
sun-bleached fringes of dull jaded fern
You hate it, I know,
You hate the limits that your skin has an end
That air touches you and makes you real
That you watch so many things from a window
Orb of yellow, pool of spite
Light in your eyes
distorted with layers of temperature and current
You are not real you are a vapour trying to keep its form
What form will the spaces give your face now
Will you be pious?
Good little girl, brave face
Sliding down in beads of water
Coming up again in a cloud
You have no touch you are painted over
I have a vision of who I want to be,
it is a dream of immobility,
with large frozen eyes,
an imperious smile,
cold and unmoving, sitting still pristine
under layers of transparent clear laminate.
Long neck, two eyes, swanlike.
Image by Ed Ball
It strikes me that we will never be great
Like those grey dots separated by nothingness
On a flickering screen brighter towards the center.
The world is a tapestry woven
For each of us, to forever hold
Sacred and watch
Watch with these frightened eyes,
Frightened of what, we do not yet know.
Watch through tears running down our cheeks
Arising from the crest of the undertow.
This silk drops from a great height,
Travelling through time
Through dust born by gimlet eyed carriers
As the path leads we know not where
And the ripples scatter like ducks over a pond
Even as we cry and hope and laugh and rage,
We raise a gun, and take aim.
I really like the bleakness of cold mornings when people go hunting. I don’t know why. It seems very arborial and antiquated to me – hunter gatherers of the present.
I don’t have a lot to say about this poem, I wrote it just now, so it’s quite clear, I think. The picture is from somewhere in Canada, I wanted a very cold and foggy one of the lake district but I couldn’t find any. It’s a very cinematic shot, it’s so organic and beautiful, and those are geese curving their wings, not ducks.
The more primeval parts of the lake district make me think of Seigfried and the dragon and it’s all very medieval Germany for some reason. Or is it Saxon? I don’t know.