All entries for Friday 12 February 2010
February 12, 2010
These are pretty much the only poems of mine that came out of my poetry course which I actually like.
I mean, I like the course. It's just that everything I've written specifically for it has so far made me want to put my liver in a vice.
In order, the poems are: a blessing for a human; a valentine for a different subject; and a mashup (or synthesis) of two collaborative love poems with two collaborative hate poems, which I called late because I'm really funny.
You need yourself. You need time for yourself.
The time you need to become yourself is the time
passing now.All time that can truly be said to exist
is the present moment, all time everywhere. You
have all the time in the world in which to be yourself.
You can be sure of yourself. You can shore yourself
up against those influences which make you unsure.
Your shores have been breached but you can assure
yourself that you are yours now.
It’s important that I’m clear on a few points:
this isn’t to release you because you don’t need me
to let you go. This isn’t to make you feel better
because you have no reason not to feel like sunlight.
This is just to ask:
how many times
do I have to tell you that
there’s nothing I can tell you
you haven’t found out on your own?
makes you smile and driftwood looks like
whales scraped beachclean and the
shells are coming up and we’re
not running the salt always
and dunes are fat with grass and
bottles are easy empty and
catching ships this
should be covered in turtles the
houses are loud and
coves are not
but you wouldn’t think they get
predators here sharp grey and
who swims these days and
i wouldn’t want to live here but it’s
fun while it lasts
and let’s hear it for the
city on a hill sink one down with a
smile because it tastes
so much better with the
which translates as i
Holding on is/then I am submerged and
you are a cold shower;
stick in my throat.
Rain is: still watcing cuttlefish struggling in
water like plastic bags I asked
where is/but gold flooded.
Sea air is/your bones are hollow but your
wings must hang so heavy
By dawn you - or do you already know how
when you're in the room I tend to
Luck is not suffocating when your lungs
haze the wind sweet
Your bed’s warm and I don’t know what
love sounds like but I
can’t want you to
Flex and hit a vein I/roll the dice and every
time whether hand open and smile or
closed plus scream it always
comes up you