Categories
Napowrimo

#21 – ‘Too much espresso…’

Too much espresso
on an empty stomach.
I’d almost forgotten what it’s like;
the jitteriness, the edges of the world exaggerated,
so each lamp-post is a monolith
against the sky.

How wise he was,
that Ethiopian goatherd who, seeing
that the berries of a certain bush
had made his flock
go wild-eyed and nervous,
decided he should try them.

He understood that sometimes, people need
to be uneasy in their skulls,
to whet their senses until
they can almost see
all Plato’s demons in the walls.

Categories
Napowrimo

#20 – ‘extreme sports videos…’

Extreme sports videos
are always better with the sound turned off:
a restless arrangement of white and blue.
And at the centre, a twisting figure
fighting to find the simple path
through chaos.

Now three days behind. Oh well.

Categories
Napowrimo

#19 – kitty ditty

How did I get two days behind? Oh well.

Kitty Ditty

Kitten pie, kitten pie,
it makes me sad, I don’t know why;
perhaps because their lives were brief;
perhaps the fur caught in my teeth.

Categories
Napowrimo

#18 – Tarifa

Tarifa

It seems like this should be
one of the great myth-places of the world;
where the churning grey of the Atlantic meets
the winedark Mediterranean,
where Europe extends towards
an Africa which seems so close
that Jesus could lean out across the Strait
and share a manly handshake
with Muhammed.

It’s not, of course. It’s just
a windy beach resort
where sunburnt men in flipflops
drink caipirinhas and discuss the surf.

Cultural geography is not so literal-minded.
Europe can as easily meet
Africa in the plantations of Jamaica,
or Islam in a tunnel under London.

Perhaps a landscape should not mean, but be;
a curve of bluegreen water
breaking against the beach,
thistles flowering on the sand dunes.

Categories
Napowrimo

#17 – ‘The mysterious…’

The mysterious translucence of candied peel
is a proof of the existence of God.
Stained glass just does the same thing,
bigger.
See also: rainbows, sunsets,
and backlit copper beech trees
in the spring.

Categories
Napowrimo

#16 – a bit of Lorca. Sorta.

This requires a note of explanation. I thought I’d have a go at doing a version of one of Lorca’s Sonnets of Dark Love that maintained the form. I only managed the first quatrain, but it looks enough like a stand-alone poem that it’ll do. The poem this is taken from is much more interesting than my slightly wishy-washy rendering of the first four lines would suggest, but hey-ho. The Spanish for translate is ‘traducir’ and I can’t help feeling I’ve traduced a bit here, but never mind, he’s been dead for 70 years, so it can’t do him much harm.

I must not lose the mystery
of the polished stone of your eyes,
or the mark that is left upon me
by the rose of your midnight sighs.

Lorca is definitely worth reading; I was particularly struck by the Lament for Ignacio Sánchez Mejías, of what I’ve read so far.