Day: December 17, 2017

You were here

In the nightmare, you were strongly here
When I woke ,I searched the upstairs rooms
Your presence and the screaming made me fear

The woman like a ghost of nuns surreal
Violently attacked me with her womb
In the nightmare, you  both shared a leer

My hair is  little better than a spear
My face is pale and weary with tattoos.
Your presence and the screaming made me fear

At a funeral be,  and shed a tear
While Joan of Arc is wired up to her doom
In the nightmare, you  had seemed  so near

I was living in  a world of signs and heat
Over me this  reeking rage  peak loomed
In your presence,  the   sharp screaming seemed effete

The stories in my mind are  like large blooms
The ashes of the saint add their  perfume
In the nightmare, you  will find  love here
Your  remains are dust and ashes, damp with tears

 

 

 

 

I will sweep your flue

GreyWagtail2017

 Come live with me and be my sweetheart now
I’ll share my only bed with you and how!
If you let me love you
I’ll darn your old wool  gloves for you
If you come and meet me brow to brow.

Come live with me ‘n teach me all you know
About poetic licence and Defoe.
I’ll mend your vacuum cleaner,
Learn expressions meaner..
How cheerfully the hours to come will go,

Come live with me and be my lover true
Without one,whatever  shall we  do?
I’ll mend all England’s railways
Wreck the works on weekdays
Come live with me and I will sweep your flue.

Come live with me in Norway on a fjord
I’ll use  my Canon PowerShot if I 'm bored
I’ll watch the flowers growing
And see the waters flowing
How happy Wittgenstein’d have been if he’d knowed

There is a space or void where love was sent

Between the world and how we represent
The nameless by a name and  even  place
There is a space or void in our intent.

What mother saw, what father really meant
How love and hate might intertwine in space.
In our own world, what can we represent?

In writing, there is lack and letters bent
For  ancient writing often  scholars traced
There is a space or void in our intent.

Today the sun is golden,gods descend.
With love,for moments, we are all embraced
Of the felt, what can we represent?

Our willingness unblinds the heart so rent
And then we see the face within his face
The space or void is  dark  till we repent

I cross my eyes with fingers interlaced:
The crucifix, the love, the death of Christ
Between the world and what we may attempt
There is a space or void where he was sent.

What is metaphysical poetry?

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http://www.universalteacher.org.uk/poetry/metaphys.htm#2

 

“Metaphysical poems are lyric poems. They are brief but intense meditations, characterized by striking use of wit, irony and wordplay. Beneath the formal structure (of rhyme, metre and stanza) is the underlying (and often hardly less formal) structure of the poem’s argument. Note that there may be two (or more) kinds of argument in a poem. In To His Coy Mistress the explicit argument (Marvell’s request that the coy lady yield to his passion) is a stalking horse for the more serious argument about the transitoriness of pleasure. The outward levity conceals (barely) a deep seriousness of intent. You would be able to show how this theme of carpe diem (“seize the day”) is made clear in the third section of the poem.”