Day: August 1, 2019

The ladder

I fear  to stand up  tall on this new earth
One hand is on the ground,  my back is bent
Shivering fear, excitement, what’s  this birth?

I climbed , like Wittgenstein, a ladder’s worth
Then threw the ladder down   as my assent
I fear  to stand up  tall on this new earth

Far away, so far, the time of mirth
For sometime a lover I was lent
Shivering fear, excitement, what’s  this birth?

I wonder can I walk ,this step the first
 Love may die and who shall then repent?
I fear  to stand up  tall on this new earth

I see myself in black, the window’s bust
A man climbs out  uncut by accident
Shivering wonder, what allures  such birth?

I see in my mind’s eye  the incident
I  learn to balance  gravity with  sense
I desire  to stand on this new earth
Shivering, wonder, is it birth or curse?

Water in a glass

I’m just  tap water in your little glass
I have no personal being of my own
I alter,am not fixed, I have no lust

In the air I see the dust motes dance
I am nothing , need no frame nor bone
I’m like the water in your little glass

I shall not  be hurt by avalanche
Neither will I suffer from your stones
I alter, am not fixed, I feel no lust

I have no solid shape but I am touched
By grief and joy and  memories of home
I am  the little river near the Pass

Unlike the Tees and Wear I never rush
Nor enter cold North Seas and turn to foam
I alter, am unfixed  and feel no lust

Within the empty mind  there  dwells  a  poem
Wordless and unformed and near to ruin
I’m just   clear water in  a handmade glass
I alter,am not fixed in form nor  class.