He saw the face of his latest scorner at a window
Of the bus just starting to roll away, and the shadow
Of a frowning apologetic lip-parted smile seemed
To play across her face as she gazed at Raimonde – who beamed
Back at her his fattest vastest most gold-revealing smile
Till the bus took her out of sight. He stood still for a while,
Like a frog frozen by the shock of hearing his own croak
~
The moment passed – but, no, such moments don’t pass; they corrode,
Bleed and seep down the drain of duty-bound time, or implode
Like stars that see, in a moment’s flash. that they’re in the wrong
Moment’s galaxy, and ‘fade’ to where they really belong.
Everything’s ever fading up and in, then down and out,
Each dodging its fate down the Fact-Factory’s sewage spout.
*
All of us, even the most numb of the factory’s slaves,
Even the blindest of winter-dark souls will misbehave
Towards but one flash of Eternity before the grave’s
Mantis-mouth sucks us down, even the bravest of the brave,
And the Fact’s stone rolls its final shadow into breath’s cave.
~
To live in the moment – but how? It’s not merely how full
The moment is, but how wide-aware of its mutual-
ity with other open cells of the sap of the Tree
Of self-knowing – call it ‘God’ or ‘Eternity’,
If you like, but don’t just nod or blink then hop back on your
Oblivion-bus content to keep its windows a blur
Of meaningless phenomena not even ‘passing strange’
Any more, but just passing, without making any change
To anything, least of all you, sovereign passenger
(from *fatima solagua arterra’s nudes* by Brian Chan, 2015)
FARJOURNEY CARIBBEAN 