ForkWordPoems by Inchiki |
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meditation on mt budawangthere was a beat sermon had upon a mountain but Budawang beneath its closed lid bears an unlamented mystery still unearthed flint and bone is so much story left untold because it was unasked - but now those mouths are sealed forever (shit!) the earth under us is our script so pick it up where others left - it is all the same poem washed beneath the fortress of uncles where little spirits sniff at us with forked tongues or blue painted ones under antiseptic eucalypt an unread library tipped on its end cured fauna creating words in Bakelite shells and crinoid stem worm cast and feathery graptolite sealed into sandstone leaves forever the mark of every little scribbler counts for something or nothing to press mind against ancient beaches is to implant a new mythology *** each piece of jaw is a hollow key to some lost alphabet one early example to set the type turned up among the siftings “The Clyde to Braidwood” seen “beauteous and wild” as proof this eulogy touches the sublime a young scrivener moth carving its place into the trees ignites cacophony inside the sarcophagi *** I needed some supple thought influenced by the atmosphere to lift me outta here left in limbo thoughts akimbo everything comes to nought a land without antiquities this barren field of Australie rich with unfound legend now bears a delinquent's insignia chiselled into timbre - the touch of civilisation if only those kids knew how many had already had it off at that rocky place and spun their myths out of that same hot kiss it would explain the tears they grew and the sweat from having to invent the seventh note on the organ all over again sucking carboniferous air inflaming new lungs with the salty afterburn of success we are like two fish flailing at the crusts of the antient incontinent in our quest to release the power that ropes us together we spark the mystery - ![]() Mind Spool 2012 |
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