Drafts

Despair 18/6/00

Open my arms and let the feathers out
So that I on wings might rise above this earth bound life,
This earth bound mouth, this broken mint,
That never stamps my thoughts in words
For words I cannot find, or finding words too many find

And let the feathers grow, flowing from my shoulders
And from the back of my skull where the
nameless, wordless monkey shouts
screaming in a cave of doubt

And let the feathers grow, so I might shed this skin
And from the phoenix fire give birth
To that jackdaw of knowledge, Chauk
One who shows me wind in flight

Written in a hangover - 18/6/00

Flight - c15/6/00

To one who shows me wind in flight,
Above the (steep/vast) and tumbling heights of youth.
Above the crush and deepening blues of memory,
Straight limbed, fulsome, chuckling.
Curve vaned, diving, joy.

Malvern hills - 24/10/99

I will lift up my heart to the Malvern hills,
and these fair moors of Devon,
there is goodness in man, though his hand is stained,
and there's even more goodness in woman
I will pray for peace in these mortal lands,
not wait for the promise in heaven.

Now promises made, by the sheepward's grave,
to keep the sheep from straying,
to fleshy grass, a brief repast,
have long now lost their saying,
of peace that comes by mutual aid,
by hand in hand, by praying.

For peace on earth may be to much,
to hope for ever after,
but more of peace and less of war,
and more of children's laughter,
For god the friend and god the good,
and less of god the master.

First draft - Written in Ilfracombe 24/10/99.

Created 24/10/99