Thursday, 27 October 2011

177 Miracles; no, I didn't know the cat's arse was significant either..

As the ground thaws
Wreathed fragments of
Mist materialises
In the dips of slopes

In the hospital bed
Prioritising continues
A list of things to live for
A list of names

Out of all the morphine
Phantasmagoria, the most fantastic
Thoughts from the future
Are recovery and love

Mist multiplies in substantial slabs
Bounces back headlights makes
The air turn thickly white
The edges of the road are gone

Road-kill slouched
At the verge, skin rolling with
Revolting gorging chomping
Revelling maggots

Foam-white wave tops fling inland
Into visibility, joyous and dramatic
Just for the love of it
Spattering froth across tide-lines

A squirt of light alerts the fish
Barely enough to reflect their silver
Sided hustling for food
In the wave-churned kelp

Seaweed bumps with fish
Faint glint of silver and
Electric pulses make
A shark’s clock tick

Beautifully designed beast
Shoulders from the depths
Instinct signals time for

No-one has ever heard
The cat fart, even at her
Most relaxed, draped around her
Wicker basket, chin up, eyes shut

The edges of things
Lighten first; wispy outline
Of clouds above mist
In a pre-emptive sky

Regular places my dreams like
To visit include a mountain
Cave above a lake
A boat is moored waiting

Odd memories my dreams
Will ponder include unusual
Road-kill; a pregnant wild boar
Her unborn young scattered nearby

Mesmerised by the oddity, we
Went back to look at the corpse
Vultures came, the maggots
Did not have time to hatch

Death comes back and back
Repeat visits, in dreams, at the
Verges of roads, it is trying
To lead me somewhere

And in this hour before the dawn
I see into the darkness and I see
The balance, the interplay
The stillness as we spin through space

And as I dream I love and learn
My intuition rolls like flotsam
My soul can travel and my veracity
Holds firmer than the cat’s arse

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