depth erate

depth

 

if god were king

i would odysseus be

and ithaca my prize

i would have troy

vanquished and returned

to blue to languish

would not the ark

of journey be

for it would ithaca

were the now

i would flight

upon the harbour

adorn my love

would stride onto

sea driven lanes

to action the word

would i walk

i and arraign

as if penelope

were only mine

and there would

i cyclops and the fair

antigone lease, release

to tother tale

i would my briseis

lay upon the wind

and from the river

lethe my weeping still

for until now

i would not ithaca

so sing Ulysses

sing an island

it would now

and then

and presence

be

it would now

and then

and presence

be

other

if one could possess, grasp, and know the other, it would not be other.

emmanuel levinas

 

other

 

instead of me

it is not

but it is

 

and another other

mirrored there

 

i cannot touch

we are not here

but we are

 

one here

other there

 

i am alone now

i am alone now

with the sounds

their odd voices

coloratura

the earth is tired

beneath me

it is stilled

and as silent

as its core

i realise i have not wept

for a few weeks

dismayed, am i

human still

i listen now

for other sounds

beyond the now

the now is stifling

too needy for now

i hesitate to dream

alone except for words

and they say nothing

hidden in the backyard of eden

i lean rather than sit

eyes regarding the bonsai

and linger as if denying green

on a foliage matter

in a glance taking in blue

and the palms and the rain

skewering leaves with a lengthy down

at times i count the offbeats beating off

in random times upon the puddles

with a watery splintering, softened thudding

plaintive within me, i feel a freefall

feel hidden here, in reality hiddenness

is not a possibility in a conscious world

i cannot hide even here, the rain touches me

and i am found,

i wonder if i should relinquish eden

the possibility of hiddenness, but i deny even this

to myself

subtle

how subtle the tender

ministrations of love

like kisses in minutiae

their everpresence

like a god, god

defining blueness

in a prelude

an afternoon of faun

intransigent

if infinity were a god-song
it would be pleading

like ladders of ladders

descending and ascending

it would rise and fall, fallen rise

like a love song to an adored

like a love song deferred

if infinity were transient
surely it would be flesh unending

the claim of love on death

the everlasting wares of being

manifold verbs of mortal hallelus

if infinity were insistent
i would insist on intransigence

all is night-quiet

and i am alone

no truly alone

no cats or creatures

no breathing to hear of

no talk nor ambience

just a man, on a bed

i feel so bruised

so cataclysmic

i don't know where

i go, going gone

and search for words

and phantoms, gods

to know how, why

to live

i am torn by empty pasts

and ransacked by marauding christians

armies have raped me

malevolence has seen me

i am sure that i am as tender

as i was nestling a baby

but now the world is expected

of me, from me, forms me

and i am unkept of soul

and in wildernesses of my own making

all is quiet and i am alone

no truly alone