Straight From Sleep

straight from sleep
to chase sheep from the garden
a bloody, dead blackbird on the doormat
'mid thousands of feathers and catspew
the world jumps
from this to that
to break the ennui
of my own tense control
all goes into the melting pot of acid
over the hill kicking a dead lambskin
what to do with all this energy, lambent, unreconciled
an atmosphere almost of terror
the planet helpless with mirth
gold coins rolling in the streets
the skylark’s interminable raga
bore aloft on shivering wings


mid-May 1971

The River Walk & We're Done, Almost

even before passing through the wrought-iron

               kissing gate

you have stepped upon that living rock

named Farewell

               beyond which the miners

did not cut



               cliff buttresses

               step up

               overhanging

               a vertical horror of mass



& the river

              flows in a deep fissure

the shatter zone of a sliding transverse fault



two great shelves

of cumbriense quartzite

hard bones of the river bed





              conjurors divinatory foam

in a side-pool



raft of choc-topped

meringues bobbing

              where the current turns back



could tell the maid's fortune

who she would marry



57 stones or setts

along the mineral line

– never been counted –

                                         one for each

                                         year of his life



counting: the sleeperstones

impose a rhythm



                           with his pack

                           on his back

                           on his back



              so closely associated:

                       love skeleton

                              of the dramway



                              her beauty –

                              his confusion –

                              why even

                              think it?

                                          – the ice ages of love



rhyme locks up passion

in prosaic fashion

a metronome beat

like something you eat



         tracing steps along the river path

                                flying leaf dance

upon his insubstantial heart



         the year

                           closing down fast

         each shower of leaves

         the cause of sorrow



he pounded on the door

of the heartbreak hotel

         leaves

skipped in the wind



                                         she was not there



                           bitter thoughts

                                    coal tit vivid

                                             busy on a branch

                                                       all about nothing



                           crows settling

                                    cold sunset

                                             ripple-red



              his heart leaps

in the higher column of his throat



              flame pulls

              a pint of dragon brew





she sits by him with an old book

                                                   open on her knee



              occultations of the poem

                                                        steps

              in the irregular rhythms

                                                        of love



                                         her loins

                           my mouth

                                         a volcanic idea



wondrous knots

are potent gazes



                           in these

                           darkest days your

                           summer feet

                           still enchant me



                                         desire

                                              is

                                         process