requirement enough

it is bare stone-faced duty that stays a man put on like a yoke as wearying as the strain of pulling pulling as worn as the furrow of a circle trodden over and over it is a bare faced stone that has no forgiveness and cannot yield it is enough to stay a man to …

axeman: the dwindling

the pile that was a mountain that vast expanse of never-ending has been tamed devoured slice by slice to the systematic beating of the splitter transformed from the raw to the dressed and he too has been changed transformed his skills honed an ability to smite developed into the art of division round after round …

prelude to a small idea

Poem #14 from a series of poems drawn from the imagination and collected as: a Bachelard reverie. Back to Bachelard and me – Introduction the silent voice starts singing a small idea done loud the discerning notion of an ear sits above the sound conducting nuance rise and fall rhythm cadence metre beat and pulse the …

unconcentric sound

a gourd shaped like a pear shaped like a tap tap tap it is a hollow you can shake and hear the seeds rattle around inside it is a gourd you need to scrub it down to mould stains for a pattern on shiny skin you can shake and hear the rattle of seeds inside …

gone (like September)

the plum blossoms suddenly they’re gone and all I see is young green where did white go the oaks are small life and bud leaves the view I had through bare branches has begun to close and the cherry flowers are bursting here and there like popcorn they have waited out the frost and now …

renewal

Poem #13 from a series of poems drawn from the imagination and collected as: a Bachelard reverie. Back to Bachelard and me – Introduction dulled in heart listless he searched haphazardly dispiritedly a drawer a bench top beneath loose papers a slow ordeal ill directed and half almost abandoned mid-task but his hands alighted finally on …

the hermits of reading

Poem #12 from a series of poems drawn from the imagination and collected as: a Bachelard reverie. Back to Bachelard and me – Introduction he has been wandering lost in the darkness of a densely treed forest lost long enough to doubt his reason his purpose in entering these woods at night but it was a …

po-dro – transcribing now

he is under observation nothing special about him just a man but under surveillance from a poetry drone riding at his shoulder hanging close just behind him watching what he does seeing inside what he thinks sometimes framing his thought a little better than he could manage on his own a little buzz it’s on …

rose

Poem #11 from a series of poems drawn from the imagination and collected as: a Bachelard reverie. Back to Bachelard and me – Introduction in the garden of darkness a black flower shines find it with your touch and by smell reveal it - your knees on the ground hands groping - the old fashioned way …

circle dance

he steps around her in a slow circle he's not watching really only from the corner of his eye to never lose her from the sight-line but he isn't watching her not really she's oblivious hardly attending what he's doing isn't relevant she's reading something in a book about dance in a romantic century he's …