Tuesday, September 14, 2004

ten ways of going about morning

1.
sometimes it's fog
with the gone lamentations

2.
gunfire cracking glass - five shots
what worries these

3.
sometimes bruises from the mugging
through zones once paths and hills

4.
constant sun
if the things I know pass me

5.
more trolleys
how was it ever

6.
phone call
always some trouble

7.
teams of cockatoos
death and harvest, dust and iron

8.
zombie dreams
small glimmering gaps between messages

9.
green
et in arcadia ego

10.
singing up my sheep
a shimmer at the top of the room



Two poems become one, sometimes. I don't think I've ever had sheep in a poem before this. They seem OK.

2 comments:

Andrew said...

'Two poems become one sometimes' ... Well, that's true, but the opposite is also true. I once woke in the early hours of the morning and jotted down a mess of words that were in my head. Then I returned to bed and slept the sleep of the confused. In the morning the mess turned out to be two equal length poems - 'Sitting Together' and 'Sitting Alone'. Very freaky experience!

Jill said...

Hi Andrew,

Ah, good story - I only said sometimes. It comes together, it falls apart. The way of words.

By the way, I don't think I've ever got a good poem straight out of a dream, as opposed to reflecting on a dream when truly awake. Possibly a good line but nver a poem.

Cheers,
Jill