we are all the same I over here you … at least for you all fighting’s done at least for you a place to lie in peace while I catch my breath a paltry breath before the whistle blows you and I inhale the same this musty stuff my friend our air is one shared inspiration … Continue reading Somme (2): where we breathe (underground)
the day time was his certainty he sat high over looked supervised decisions make and he the small god of the domain inferiors cowed as they were acceded agreed nodded fervently upheld and supported there was no doubt there could be no doubt but night the dread night night was filled with no-certainty with the … Continue reading an assurance
malcolm my boy so well you look in your greatcoat and your slouch hat and khaki puggaree the rising sun gleaming on the side proud of you so proud that … oh I could almost burst for pride ~
We lost a big fish today. Poetry is become a smaller place.
knows the meaning of existence.
Trees, planets, rivers, time
know nothing else. They express it
moment by moment as the universe.
Even this fool of a body
lives it in part, and would
have full dignity within it
but for the ignorant freedom
of my talking mind.
hush be quiet now don’t … do not speak a word if we lay still enough they may not see us hear us they may not find us oh let them leave us I have had enough too many fears too much explosion cover me cover me I will cover you lie quiet my … Continue reading Ravin d’Harbonnieres (2): hush
he chose to reside on the other side where everything is a psychotropic and his hallucinations just another stanza one more line in another poem ~ Poem #548 from a series of poems drawn from the imagination and collected as: a Bachelard reverie.
baby baby go to sleep I will sing staccato an intermittent song I sing through all the night bravado broadside on and broadside gone I’ll sing you near . . . . then I will sing you . . . . there so baby baby go to sleep I will sing for you staccato
the sun goes down the golden sun desolation to its sleeping the night will come to take lost souls away into safe keeping no man is on the forest steps spectres dead still standing ... ... and of the spectres dead none standing blow the bugle blow it slow the golden sun defeated shining still but … Continue reading somme (1): the golden sun
the dust he wrote was lighter than a touch from the breeze it filled the page mote by mote like swirling in a ray of fallen sunlight dazzling through the window dance his words could dance for him in rainbow colours soft as a blown breath rain fell down in the way rain always will … Continue reading light (too heavy)
I live in a hole in the ground I share it with a rat and some lice that think they own me we have reached an agreement a compromise about the food I eat from soggy ration packs the lice eat from me the rat will not discuss his cuisine or culinary treasures but I … Continue reading in a canal escarpment on the Somme: glutton