the dream castle the exotic land expand to ordinary space as you walk into them almost bored the magic gone with presence like a lover, or Spring taken for granted
these tulips open only seen with stopping, wondering abandoning mind's webs
this chocolate gone with two quick bites yet we go on exclaiming chasing inventing diet versions not noticing how good dry bread is to hunger
the country lanes we walk always beckoning to something wondrous new but the lane ends at just another field
the body cannot follow some lost buried heaven above taste or mind until abandonment to the goad's source
we feed the animals great grey-white screaming gulls one sitting on a rock for hours waiting he gets fed first
quick chirping chipmunks with sharp stripes who come up to our chairs rabbits - somewhere - shy and snuffling green-necked geese over the bay knowing it could make them too trustful of hunters
for ourselves our pets we say liking them to turn to us to feel acknowledged needed share our origin share rock fir shallows sand one air with them
both - they and we - briefly visiting we imagining we're earth-fed bodies just like them uprooted by our thoughts on this polluted planet whose frail life we suck poison distort
do they know that? forgive? -
to undo centuries
of guns
sometimes the hands know best where the switch is limbs know which way to turn
turn off the will the thought be led by what obeys remembers
those good dogs like us limbs of an all-knowing letting us decide
lust-dreams coloured of someone forgotten then I seek him following heartpaths he left in the dream
in and out of rooms without walls he's near, invisible shines from his absence
words and gestures peeled away our eyes knew made notes informed our blood carved this dream
you don't call I'm half without other half raw where you tore off the telephone cord umbilical hangs lifeless
no voice sings furry humour that thing's a corpse vibrates no meanings it just hangs there
we never give our hearts we keep them love their ecstatic beats their bursting saying I give myself to you but asking be mine be here always for my use
our love intact though weary wary used still here is knocked on waiting for a subtle touch to open a still, wide place to share
in the heart a deep well laughter ecstacy sometimes lovers tap it
then kick each other out with tales of unwashed spoons or feet or too-familiar flesh
but it is they theirs forever we in our still presentness
your image fades behind new furniture and talk but I'd know you even without words or eyes
our secret garden not the one we squashed in our fast cars crowded appointment books
my memories hold machines the wall lighting up as a car cruised by our house and i was happy high up a buzzing plane in the hot empty blueness motors sputtering on lakes the long car journeys to the city school with car rugs the big orange busses leaning around corners or to the rolling hills those old ironing machines for sheets -
are machines romantic after all? I've wanted them to disappear dissolve to feel the good rough smells of earth unpaved for cars murderers of silence of green vibrant depths of healing life
but they are intertwined even in leaves and rivers in my longings merged and mellowed in what seemed almighty life fragile to steel which softens in nostalgia
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