SERENE . NOT ALWAYS THERE

                                                                                 

                                                          "It was a feeling of need and perturbation and sadness she
                                                                could not account for  ̶  an acute spirit of meeting and
                                                                parting and of eternal distance that was still nearness."
              
                                                                     – Wilson Harris, "The Whole Armour"

 

              Beyond serve nerves of steel they claim could insulate space rafters,
             observe the player who brings to net no practice in fame holding.

                  "She tends to drift away, lose focus . doesn't want the win that
                   bad." Lean in : the deer hunter's third eye has opened runway
                   clear through sport page leaves . it heeds the conch alert. 

            Face towels gauge the sun's stake hold, that glare never in doubt
            in search of sag point. Moon shot bellows vapor risk. Galleries row
            packed look on cheer swizzle chat ( > one day lisp fade away).

            "But in the middle of a thought . sex . congregation? Call that good
            timing?" On any stage for the good of the flow churn units break,
            prayer bows pin east; chambers redress a breach head on its way.
                 Yo, who caught the future's wink? 

                                                        *

            Pointillion pixels screen the frameless face sometimes near
              tears. Grass clay take note as wrist snaps back ace makers,
                as hearts draw string speed muscle tight : Boy, chase that
            called out burner.(Even in good seats the old body frets.)


                                             On side switch light might amble in
            a miss fit toss time out : some star far set in motion world code
            centres scent implosion; just so the cause unknown bests shade
            index.
                            Not over
 ̶  valley riffs leaps above dance invocation
           
in the fault box  ̶  around in lead feet turn : optics refit, arms paid
            dear for the end swing whack. 

                              Ordinarily, tugging the tail of the tiger, we'd go: I need
            a moment : enter the pain shed . pride thigh wrap  
̶  there, now. 

                                                                                        – W.W.

 

 


                         

  

               

 

  

                                INFLUENTIAL EFFLUENCE

                                Yes, all must fade, but those who would not  ̶  except
                                as form-shifting stars with their effulgence not 
                                limited by labels of 'burn-out' or 'fall'  
                                        (which are masks of fear,
                                   failure and final loss),
                           
   stars whose new scrawls figure form's humbling fate but
                               on as many night-slates as there are eyes ripe
                               to become conscious sparks of undying Light  ̶  
                                        those who would not fade
                                   determine to relay  ̶  
                               to our still breathing world of both reluctant
                               and willing witnessing  ̶  their lives masked as knots
                               of nests of eggs to be untangled and hatched
                                      by brooding midwives 
                                  of births beyond the self,
                               births that restrain the self's egg to so release
                               its ripeness from its stubborn shell that would keep
                               failing, burnt-out, falling ideas of its form
                                       which, fading, must kneel
                                   to stars that pass to stay.

                                   (from "Readiness" by Brian Chan)