Shooting my grave

Lostness   (22)


I imagine a multi-gun salute fired into my grave, instead of over it.


Someone in a dream insists “Special relativity is all very well, however the time I am referring to is the same throughout the universe!”



Trust is needed by infants, but an open book can be filled with lies.


Lacking knowledge of either parent a child may be partly an enigma to itself.



My freedom feels greatest in actions of least importance.


Moves of chessmen are determined, not the game.


Art is one of the better ways to waste time.


A culture should leave space for activities which lead to its advance.



What I reject philosophically can still affect me emotionally.


Alienation could lead to identification with the oppressed.


Explanatory power might make a theory more harmful, especially if it is false.



I return to this moment won from death
in defiance of entropy.



(Sept 1979)




An alien dream


Lostness  (4)  1976


Rain patters in an upturned dustbin lid.
One street ruptures into another.
Which way next?
What to do with freedom when you have no money?






An alien walks into a crowded cafe. Its internal organs are visible through transparent flesh. People stare.

I shout:  “Hey waiter! Get me one of those.”

A laugh goes around.

I wake up saying:  “They really do have a ‘special’ for today.”



Poem 1994



I dreamt about distance.
To lie suspended
over the face of waters
cold as infinity.
Perhaps time would spiral
and I might go on sleeping
like a single entity.

Once cerebral storms parted
for an instant
this mind seemed clear
just entrails of images
still coated with anger
tunnelling the head.

My hand could feel a rifle
I was not quite dead.

Poem 1984 (1)

In the sleeping eye


I sank through a burning dream
strange bodies murmuring
their outlines on fire

While in imaginary branches
black shapes began to breathe
when leaves became bats

Cloudy as fears
such creatures live where
sleep laps against vision’s shore

Molten shoals
touched in an eyelid’s ocean

I tried to reach landfall
beyond swimming uncertainties
of form.


Poem 1979 (2)

Sleeping Tantalus

Numbers arrive misplaced
through every fathomless hair pore
of time
in a wink
of empty selves
as bubbles that flash
while this visitor vanishes
shrunk to a speck
across reeling totality
among deeper veils
those reluctant shades
in their graves
which even appeared
to exist
via some dubious enigma
of units stopped
in place.

Thus were found
only broken images
purified by dream.

Dream Triad 1976 (3)

(1) Entrance

Memory flashed before her.
Through the gloom
objects sank to shadow.
“I feel faint” she thought
“but I must not give way.”
Intuiting vastness
beyond her frightened face
to one side a cool draught
its source an entrance
like a grave
steps slanting down.
What passageway was this?
Finding a door
again she hesitated
as if vines clung to her body
and a yearning elixir
from another part of the dream.


(2) The Click

At the sound of falling
her breath tightened.
A dim light flared
then movement overhead
coming closer
unknown shapes.

She braced herself
and heard the click.


(3) Ivy

The door had shut.
Groping her way in darkness
one hand brushing ivy
with its nervy engines of leaves
against the skin
she tore an old spiders web
feeling empty in her heart.

It seemed a long time
since she had been kissed.