histories

the girl
…………….who danced
the ibis moon  ………….she brings
the story of it all
& this
is the telling

close

& personal ………………my sudden
consent ………….& ……..distance
is full i have
my history here
in the pulse of it all

and this is the saying of it

the dark days
……………………………& my growing
in bones & bodies
& here ………………i’m doing
a telling of it

the legs ……………& mouths ……….. & hearts of it
she dances alphabets
in the crescent fire

& the boat returns the day

* * * *

this
is the telling of it all

there is mud
& reeds ………….. & a boat
in the sky ………..& i
have names for them

the threads of what it is
& what we know ……………..she
danced a world for us

* * * *

in my sinking
sands
………………things
do not occur successively
like gravity
………………..oh ……………then
………………..i’ll get up
………………..& fly

to all my ………..scattered
dependencies

it’s what this ……………..thing
says
when i’m not looking

words
of those hands i haven’t got
just these .……………………poor
counterfeits

hold.…………………………….. separate
like atoms …………………….do not
touch …………….she
……………………….stirs
……………………….the air
the cells are orphans
pointing ………………………further

……………………………………...she is
maker ………. in every outward
move

of that old…………………………. yellow
………………………..crescent

* * * *

…………………………all the rest
is outside
where a feather
…………………………………...is counterweight

the ghosts of real
come solid from shade …………………… they play
on red sand ……………………with a girl
who danced a bird

wings spread & beating
………….the ibis & the girl
she danced a boat
sailing she danced a ragged
book
………………& this
was the telling of it

 

hiraeth

hiraeth: (n) homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your past – Welsh

give me the sea
for my dotage.i’ll wear it
in shawls / in weeds
…………………………..flowing

i’m rich in reflections
in dark & blue & once
there was a girl
& a song i can’t remember
……………………………the water notes
patient just breathing

* * * *

………………………………..i cannot bleed
sufficient & all my bodies
lie in other countries

let them burst
in all their broken splendour
shining

i clothe my scars
with care
i shall not be revealed

……………………………wear shrouds
walking ………………a perfect space
of death

* * * *

……………………….diving
into deep skies …………….are homes
that do not live
in this my circus
& dark matter

i twitch to distant currents
lost
& permanently delayed
there were so many
…………………………..varied
deaths………………. i know the way

…………………………...all ticking
backwards

* * * *

we bathe in dust
deep.it is
no gentle immersion
……………………………& the sun’s
a yellow ball
……………………………fading
out of a painted sky

wait

for rain
not coming

we fly black flags
upriver …………..watch towers
………………………………………………….fall

distance between

sewing together
every lasting piece
…………………….i make
a rose
……………..on folds
……………..on leaves

here’s a bloodthorn
& the lines.paint
ages / flowers
……………..& faces
everything fades.it is
the nature of dark
glass
……………….reflecting
not silver

…………………..& we’ll dance
a last tango late
……………………………..& lips
tire in substance.just see
the words lie deceiving
…………….like petals
…………….like blood
like smiles on old canvas

those lasting rites

………………………………dry

tides
the weed & rubbers &
…………………………….rusty
spades

& flooded castles
………………………scattered

………………………………….here
a life
in such offering

flowers & broken
stems / the blind
rats

………………………see them
scurry
in shadows in
carcasses of sand

………………………watch them
eat
through dying flesh.pink
& grey & red again
a heartbeat a breathbeat

tick

tock

© 2017, Reuben Woolley

2 thoughts on “Four Poems by Reuben Woolley

  1. I liked much of your imagery, Reuben. I found the forms of the poems (with so many spaces and jumps between the lines/words) distracting from the reading and I wonder if they would be stronger if you put them into a more common format? It’s just an idea, and I think you do very well painting clear pictures for us with your words! Thank you for sharing these with us this month. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

Discussion is welcome! Thank you ...

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