Click here for the full post about my Mum and Dad.
Part one of my mothers short story ‘Death of A Poet’ All little boys play havoc with life, surprised the bird they slay with their homemade slingshot won’t wake up and fly away. He, though, is one of a kind. At the age of seven he makes his first killing, a deer on the YorkshireContinue reading “Death of a Poet ~ Part One ~ Mary Anne Baartz”
My response to Rilke’s Duino Elegies ~ Number 10 His baby weighs nothing floating on bony palms Practicing sacrifice A grimacing prayer Thin breathless arms soft with natures last flourish the stroking of hair A habit of care No hope and rapidly fading Superficial Life We frame our fascinated tongue in gilded verbs We bringContinue reading “The Goodbye”
My response to Rilke’s Duino Elegies curled in a little ball pretending will not save us from the torturous puling of splinters ‘I know NOTHING’ pretending, just in case, giving meaning to the pure page ……….a clever decoy to fein concern over things more permanent than ourselves! spreading our neck over that which is willingContinue reading “Now Here”
My response to Rilke’s Duino Elegies number 8 Reaching again, stalking this thirst for who I am, we are splitting in parts, raw light leaking but blind and believing in sweet enduring allowing death public slaying guarded by pulsing spectre keen eye follows flickerings by bee or ant marching chaotic to unseen nothing but notContinue reading “Some Mute Beast”
My response to Rilke’s Duino Elegies. This is number Seven. over dirty feathers sand pieces and falling sun o crystal creature this droplet of flesh his humbled form talk is small small talk tiny talk lording over billowed heart huge rising expansive breaking tidal pushing midnight reaping clouds kissing imaginary moon balloon in my chestContinue reading “Unlocked Rivers”
Ants feet purr over fleeting mapless skin Ear pressed deep, cheek-plain to grass a salty paradise Caves of echoing clay dirt melting into creases Moulding delicious thoughts in dark, muddy hands
thoughts falling in ladders downward sloping air anointed blessed and breathing tunnels past poaching pears and small precarious things… leaning and laughing tall words balancing on lonely blue chairs …. and there here at the highest point sweet musk curls inhaling a graceful nonsense see more art > http://www.artofkundalini.com Continue reading “Graceful Nonsense”