Angle of the sun
A yellow gleam bends walls open
inside replenishes its fruit
a quiet exhaling slips through day.
Breadth of flowers – welcome! extend!
Sun shapes the ordinary, an open drawer.
The long silence perfects blue walls.
Or in afternoon’s lateness, light of
a day’s weight, and instant, encircles
the near motionless, books half hidden.
Intercept shape! catching that can.
Forms steep and soften, green and white
in the window’s presence, brush flowers
as though they are slow, erasure
is never complete, curves are wild props
and what is collected, never still …
-after ‘Chinese Screen and Yellow Room’, Margaret Olley
I'm listening up after a big wide week
"free your mind and your ass will follow,
the kingdom of heaven is within"
Funkadelic
Or is it the other way around - free your ass
and your mind will follow?
I still haven't decided.
Where is within?
Where should I be looking?
"I'm so confused about the whole thing."
Some about: my recent
People ask me what my book
is about
I say ‘nothing’ as
I called it
‘broken/open’
that seemed to be
words for
the nothing I know
which goes out into
and is patterned in language
Then it may say
It will become a book
you can hold
and turn like a poem
a place to mark
something that can be
opened? Dissolved in doing?
I’m going with perception
which may be
‘going on your nerve’
jumping in the midst
of the flow, experience
in language underway
But I have found I need
more tenderness
to pick up the pieces
everything is broken –
systems, gods, engines
now it’s more fun
perhaps against method/perhaps no project
and going without
some ‘reader’ that’s been made-up
feeling my way again
and the importance of wings
the lake, rock and sand
it all runs on the pink sexed skin
a landscape like sound
drips from my edges
asking questions
about how the pieces don’t fit
shards alter meanings
these shards are the parts
‘poetry is too important to be left
to its own devices’ Charles Bernstein
Are we at the end of
‘the body’ and ‘nature’?
Is time disappearing into speed?
Awe is an engine
the particular
‘a glitch in the system’?
Where are the new senses?
It is broken – it is open.
- after Broken/Open by Jill Jones