Unshared Light

sharp luck

dumbstruck

today it hurts again

 

last night, dreams of you

which now means

you in me, past the light

 

what does it?

cert sign that some untouched world

of togetherness

must together be brought?

or retrenchment of a spiral one

of me

stuck in me alone?

 

sharp luck

dumbstruck

the more it hurts again

 

vast insight

of you in me

beyond what might

keep within quiescent tone

 

what is desire?

truth that the old may well collapse

because already rising in its wake

are the first suns of the new?

or is fire more reckless, less controlled

issued oftenest one way

spoiling the fruit of any return?

 

dumb struck

sharpluck

I am lit again

 

cast outright

into the battered sea

of you star side

whether or not it be

 

Time 22 (moment and movement)

The time it takes

the body

rooted

or wrapped

to embody

the body it is

is time

being taken away

from the body –

sapped

and muted;

 

time empty

when the body full

and full

when the body empty;

 

TIME

 

or the body

of the body

 

di-stiller

of the moment

into

an, at once,

much fuller and emptier

movement.

Nana

…and now it does seem,

great Mother,

that you are upon

a slow Autumn

the final season

of your full life

 

the flock you nested

has long since flown, confident and vivacious

into the bright Summers

which your careful Spring-raising made True

of six 9-mooned Winters

resiliently carried through

 

there are now birds of those birds

nests inspired on those you prepared

the multiplication of your first work, speaking its success

reverberations of your Love, unabated

still spawning seasons, Summers

thriving on the essence of your light…

 

…and so, indeed, as much as it may seem,

great Mother,

that your body has turned on you

and now terminally sheds and folds itself away,

the spirit and truth you have given us to fearlessly fly on

can neither fall nor whither, but prove you, immortal.

Culinary (Part II of the Arts & Sciences series)

a soup is water made with something

 

the making of something runs like water

running into the possibility of water

 

the water possibility of soup

is a soup possibility of water

and therefore for the there-for

so much more:

 

water-with-something

is water watered down,

water also the difference of soups

the key ingredient to their ingredients being key…

 

water is a bowl-floater

a boat-floater

bowls, boats

bounds, bonds

bloat-footer

footing soups

 

and the understanding is

soupy

watered –

as crystal clear as yet more soup not quite as runny as the water…

 

water-made something

makes soup

and “water” in name just as water-made

 

touching the water scoops it ladle

comes out too thick

too made-up –

Ironically, too watered down

too quick

to constitute the in-definition

of under-standing…

to show up the world

under-water…

 

the collected spoonful

and subsequent spoonfilled collections

(in fact any spoon is just another collection of spoons)

a sort of liquidity

movement

too mixed in the coming

washed up, washed out in a going

on the shores

of a gap-wide bowl-full contactability

a “watered” eroding

gardens to the flower of the im-permanent

more keys

ingredients

in a water that tells us something about everything

but not everything about something.

gaps.

soup-holders.

by the night

Come by the night

Come by the night asking

Come by the night asking for

 

An exchange

 

An exchange

by the night

come

 

Come by the night asking

 

a water-maker

for

a soup-spinner

 

by the night asking

a connection-dweller

for

a fate-delayer

 

The night asking

a light-retainer

for

a life-explainer

 

Come by the night 

Come by the night

asking

by the night

 

for

a love-availer

for

a lozenge-sharer

 

by the night

distance-taker

come

truth-recaller

heart-breaker

come

group-builder

for

a hope-restorer

come

come

come

come

and come

world-destroyer

 

Come by the night

by the night

the night

asking for…

 

Your exchange.

What is the person?

beginning to end of

a line

ahead of itself

such that there it is

with its head

feeding

on its own tail

 

but tales, tells

not more self-annihilation

than growth

from something like a self-making self-same

comestibility

 

that is,

starves and satiates

on a hunger for the

meeting with itself

 

whilst also all the time,

of course

spinning out –

out-of-control of course –

fattening itself up on so much more than itself,

yet feeding, and feeding on, foremost

that for which it feeds

(everyday nutrition,

in this sense,

the mere bare bones

of a much more temporal appetite)

 

so, spends time

spilling into itself

after stinging itself

always there also feeding back

 

future biting history

history, the old biting

and old bit

bleeds into the salivation

salvation

of a continuity

that presses forward

by pressing its fangs

probing

into

a hitherto

 

basically, orbit on its own axis

something in time able to time its own questions about time

minimally independent

of the most immediate answers

of an otherwise questionless timelessness;

 

hunger for itself

line forced into contortions

often getting quite fed up

but through that same bloatedness

already layering the appetite

reaching the round-about point

that will be the stomach –

swallowed itself

and out the other way again –

to stomach

the next moment

of a self-nurturing

nutritioning;

 

satisfaction,

the present-ing conditions

of a re-turn to an emptiness

that bites with the fulness of a line

turned to look at itself

 

at once

the opening and closure of something

in time

capable of life –

introductions –

beginning and ending in ways

that do not have to end the way begun.

The fundamental shift of fundamentality

the argument that starts in the in-decision about the right thing to be said

and the right ways to say it

so long on the tracks of generational station-calling

derails

turns into arguments about what has already been said about that

what those sayings mean, stations been

whether they themselves had any answers

and what they might be…

and yet, further to this

calling-station of station-calling

and de-railing altogether

asking questions of the being able to say

and of the how to say

insofar as these two episodes are concerned

railed and derailed

both of them are inasmuch indistinguishable

as still issuing-from as making-issue-of one and the same issue

the actually sayable

a mere change to the pattern of the action from which it is repeated

from talking about talking

tracking the attacks

to talking about text

attacking the tracks

and that is all

Appendix to the centre

intention to attention to intention

prescribes a transition, describes a revision

like square to rectangle made

back to square, to be squared out

and the question in there is twofold

return square can the rectangle made be squared with first square? that is, is there any squarable likeness even despite square to rectangle made? do they succeed in resemblance?

and return square again can the first square be squared with rectangles made? that is, is first square reconcilable with rectangular spillage, at all? do they have any future together?

 

question one is about success and shape, a reaction of space – which is ultimately about impossibility

question two is about possibility and belonging, a reaction of time – which is ultimately about impossibility

 

all squares to rectangles come into squared revision

squared revision is also rectangular, of course

but in difference there are differences

and some possibilities play alongside impossibility a lot better than others

(more spillable in ways that let the freedom of spillage keep spilling out thereafter)

some squares are more rectangular than others.

in transition, in revision

movement is about describing that difference

and making sure of it.

The centre

Rectangle is a square landed

redoubled in effort

training in motion

trailing itself

caught up in a ridiculous self-tease;

 

a square of the utmost cared-for a priority

does not yet matter

but dropped

it starts to matter

at once more and less relatable

more and less stable –

rect-angles step out, tile down, the floor

 

intention and attention

writing and reading

 

square is before floor

rectangle on the floor

neither of which fully pictures the other

neither of which fully opens

or closes

the door of their exchange

 

the door

upright rectangle, ajar

a draft –

of the elements,

the most aware

of the slim enough –

to slip through:

 

squares to rectangles made

and rectangles cutting up squares

in ex-change

 

intention to attention to intention to attention

squares to rectangles to squares to rectangles

all of which some of themselves and some of the other

 

how very triangular

even to the point of being able to throw into doubt a distinction

and the upmost angle of cowardly triangulation

again, the door

not fully open

nor properly closed

unsquarable, rect-agle upstanding waiting for a meeting

un-started so un-finished

possibility

that one day it will happen

 

so, “ajar” is the possibility

of possibility

that is,

the seeping draft –

the back and forth momentum

of squares spilling rectangles

rectangles chopping squares

neither fully themselves

neither properly the other –

describes a movement caught in the action of its own possibility

recounting itself to itself as it happens

that is,

spilling

chopping

 

there is no lock

but locked into an uncertain transition

 

how very circular

and yet square

and rectangular

and triangular, too;

 

the light that glows between the door and its frame

like the draft

and the exchange

also seams

seemingly

with a motivated quality

the fundamental square root of all this (the) un-met.