The Dream Unnoticed
The
flanneur would walk the streets
observing and
Unobserved,
a spectator who was unseen,
A
silent presence in conversations, on scene
Yet
never noticed, so that when writing on the sand,
The
tide washed everything away, except
His
messages, his voice inside the shell
We
later placed against our ear—the spell
It
cast through pulsing blood—the sound that leapt
Into
our dreams to tell us who we were
At
the very moment that we thought our secret thought
Was
quite exempt from scrutiny, the scar
That
forms from such an insult—and we are caught
Inside
the curly passageway between
The
ear and brain where silences are seen
Projected
on imagination’s screen.
Like Arrogant Little Elves
The
black birds have started to scratch and peck away
the
grass, no longer satisfied with bread
shredded
on the lawn, and sliced apples now
and
then, while sparrows fuss and flutter, day
by
day more desperate as the long dry spell goes on;
they
carry fragments larger than themselves,
like
arrogant little elves. The leaves are dead
and
fall too soon for the season. We have no snow
to
hide the devastation. Huge roots heave
under
the concrete path, showing themselves
like
behemoths of the deep we dread will slay
our
apprehension and embrace of life
or
cosmic order: the steel-grey sky is rife
with
invisible depradations spawned the day
we
first forgot we were formed of clay.
Go Back To Athens Where You Belong
At the centre
of the labyrinth by clue
And wit we
found and slew the Minotaur
But coming out
was not so pleasant, few
Expected such
a hostile welcome, a jaw
Was dropped, a
brow was raised—but you,
And all the
crowd that jeered, my craw
Was blocked, I
croaked: you glowered, yellow-red
Those eyes.
“Go back where you belong,” you said,
“And take your
crew of trouble-makers.” My soul
Contracted and
my heart exploded. Dead
I would have
been, no hero, martyr, goal-
Accomplished
athlete of the fleet—but troll
And gremlin cast
adrift to sail alone,
Black sails
unfurled, monster turned to stone.
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