258

There’s a certain Slant of light,
Winter Afternoons—
That oppresses, like the Heft
Of Cathedral Tunes—

Heavenly Hurt, it gives us—
We can find no scar,
But internal difference,
Where the Meanings, are—

None may teach it—Any—
’Tis the Seal Despair—
An imperial affliction
Sent us of the Air—

When it comes, the Landscape listens—
Shadows—hold their breath—
When it goes, ’tis like the Distance
On the look of Death—

Good to go?
what do you know
about good to go?

Have you even been?

Don't think your degrees and PhD's
in 'ologies
impress me

Bet you've never seen a dead man
with a can of beer get up and say,
here is where it is and you can have
it if you like.

Good to go eh?
that'd be good to know
but
I never felt that good
enough to go
anywhere.

and getting old
well
that's not good to know
nor
is it a good place to go

bones creaking,
leaking
from orifices
I suppose there's 'ologies for those
but who knows?

no one talks about them,
you know
the problems of older men
women too

what do you know
about
good to go?

about as much
as me.

some words , poets
make me stop and visit reality
others
take me into space
and time ,
limitless

you do not feel for me
but the thought is enough

you are beautiful beyond compare
as the types of sunrises and sunsets
you cannot tell apart

you are the moon as it kisses the sea
and i am jealous in each moment your
lips are not on mine

flawed to the bone i have never felt so
deeply for a closer friend

i love the fun we have, virgo

notice small things,
that she touched her hair
that's why I look into her eyes
to see how big her pupils are

life is small on a grand scale.
and  grandness is often in the details
of her movements small
that hand  on your arm

the way the breeze leaves,
only her hair alone
and the sun though covered
always shines like diamonds

in HER  eyes ....

like  just  day  love  time   make  words  life  know  right  eyes  night  feel  say  sun  man ­ red  long  saw  got  need  heart  think  away  head  thought  ne­w  left  things  good  world  white  thing  dark  look  dream  bl­ack  god  dreams  hard  light  old  times  smile  breath  trying ­ came  hope  does  little  home  young  hand  lost  felt  green  ­high  beautiful  sweet  hear  years  try  small  peace  better  r­eal  song  poem  mind  blue  oh  big  tree  wish  past  fall  day­s  sky  best  true  write  want  people  seen  trees  free  end  ­remember  heard  nature  gone  took  word  comes  goes  hell  bea­uty  gave  face  leaves  dead  far  bit  deep  wind  soul  earth ­ corner  tomorrow  seek  live  ***  sing  inside  walk  feeling  ­hands  moon  memory  reality  soft  stars  looking  wild  hair  g­irl  touch  calm  seeing  stand  wrong  place  perfect  bad  make­s  sit  sleep  grass  yellow  foreverway

unpicking then sewing back up
memories I feign would forget
forever free of their insistence.

I tell myself its all down to the will
to will not to give them entry
but some memories hold a secret

to mine that treasure can take time
all the time it takes to heal
a wounded mind from another time.