Poetry of the music

11/09/13

Some of the poetry I write and music I create is connected. My poems are often quite lyrical or rhythmic in nature. 

Down In The Cog-Work Of My Mind (2012)

Down in the cog-work of my mind,

where static nerves cannot unwind,

every part is in its place 

of anti-movement, anti-pace.

When I start to move around,

immobilities unbound.

Common joints all follow suit,

although my mind is stuck en route.

I climb up; up to the thought tread,

I ascend myself to my deathbed.

If I could summon any pain,

I would ignite my every flame.

Though I’d only smoulder out,

I’d try to wet my lips again...

Allow my body to unclog,

as I unwind my every cog.

Allow my body to unclog,

as I unwind my every cog.

Grandmother (Cold) (2013)

When the vines arched over us,

and the plums stained our toes,

I heard the swelling inside you

as we lay in the earth.

You were a mother that day,

though all the children had strayed.

But now whenever I lay,

I hear a cold, grey voice say:

“Two, but never three,”

my grandmother to me. 

“Two,” though I’d’ve three.

My grandmother let me.

All your hunger pains grew,

into a tumour or two.

I heard the empty house cry,

and saw the fish pond turn dry.

The very source of your love,

was where you placed me above.

Warmest womb of them all, 

I hear a cold, grey voice call:

“Two, but never three,”

my grandmother to me. 

“Two,” though I’d’ve three;

my grandmother let me.

The first shock like a quake;

still we tremor and shake.

Sometimes a loss can’t be just,

but in that grey voice I trust:

“Two, but never three,”

my grandmother to me. 

“Two,” though I’d’ve three;

my grandmother let me.

“Two, but never three,”

alternate memory. 

“Two,” though I’d’ve three;

did my grandmother see? 

Greece (2013)

I see the child in you
We were baking in the sun
Hot stone and a deity
One gaze of the star

You wrapped over me
As the shadows were growing
On that freezing night
You carved marks in my belly

Nimble as monkeys
I wove you new skin
Could you throw me an arrow
I, of the unknown

Transience looms heavy

We, smoothened by the rough
Scoop up the honeycombs
Think muscles and bones

Could you hold all the pebbles
Extracting from blood
I return to sunlight
But you must stay young