Wednesday, March 23, 2005

this afternoon

head aches into
grey hatched
skies

moving
it all
from any thought

that becomes fashioned
around poor
time

wished
I could
buy it once

Tuesday, March 22, 2005

looking to big weather

Emily Dickinson

1581

The farthest Thunder that I heard
Was nearer than the Sky
And rumbles still, though torrid Noons
Have lain their missiles by—
The Lightning that preceded it
Struck no one but myself—
But I would not exchange the Bolt
For all the rest of Life—
Indebtedness to Oxygen
The Happy may repay,
But not the obligation
To Electricity—
It founds the Homes and decks the Days
And every clamor bright
Is but the gleam concomitant
Of that waylaying Light—
The Thought is quiet as a Flake—
A Crash without a Sound,
How Life's reverberation
Its Explanation found—

sky ... from someone else

an extract from Nazim Hikmet's Things I Didn't Know I Loved

...
I didn't know I loved the sky
cloudy or clear
the blue vault Andrei studied on his back at Borodino
in prison I translated both volumes of War and Peace into Turkish
I hear voices
not from the blue vault but from the yard
the guards are beating someone again
I didn't know I loved trees
bare beeches near Moscow in Peredelkino
they come upon me in winter noble and modest
beeches are Russian the way poplars are Turkish
"the poplars of Izmir
losing their leaves ...
they call me The Knife ...
lover like a young tree ...
I blow stately mansions sky-high"
in the Ilgaz woods in 1920 I tied an embroidered linen handkerchief
to a pine bough for luck
...

a sky poem

falling
home is
burning too high

clear
is broken
light from oceans

crying
blue alias
ends in red

overcast
higher jump
limit for limit

Monday, March 21, 2005

now here's a bright sky

but seriously, some great images posted by the indefatiguable Chris Murray at tex files. (Maybe the Texas air is better than the stuff we breath here where it is easy, so easy, to tire.)

falling in love with ...

and forgot to mention this terrific interview with US poet Sheila Murphy on the new e-x-c-h-a-n-g-e v-a-l-u-e-s site. Again, a place that's building up lots of good stuff.

lovely as/is

lovely poem from Jean Vengua on as/is, a site always worth keeping up with.

Sunday, March 20, 2005

stormy sunday

in
high the
storm bright sky

how
long run
the diesel gamble

taxis
down the
blue grey levels

all
morning all
round the bowl

Tuesday, March 08, 2005

this is nice

... from Mark Young.

wandering

sky bright has been doing some internal travelling, as one does.

Good to be back in the gleam busy air again even as autumn turns into shorter days.

Not chill enough yet in this city but the trees bristle with a cold bright.

I shouldn't worry about I but I do. Do I? What I can be done, is being done.

colours cloud

all courses go to cloud
count the brightness of helium

rain is on the bank
backwards a bird

Certain days receive you
upright and travelled

initials are in buildings
a higher earth never came

ochre connection to yellow doors
call blue to tunnels

so fast within in red
the glance beige emptiness

speed whatever is cloud
is this?