Tuesday, 9 June 2015

doubting soul

I have no difficulty with
the senseless
stupidity of soul
there are many
simple things
not understood.

Take this stone
piece of  
the earth
in darkness
'til Caesar
slashed her 

to pipe shit
beneath a river.
Welling-up I remember
the damp dark night
I climbed in a hole
to save this stone

it has travelled with me
eight hours around the globe
to this land where
blacker stones were hid
i love it's silence and in it see
my grandfathers face,
his blind eyes
eyes he told me Black and Tans
dripped with candle grease
to help him speak of guns

limestone of
the Shannon
simple rock
of my childhood,
grey and hard and sharp
stuff of David's sling

stuff of railway-beds and
schools and churches,
garden-walls and
Georgian homes,
soldiers-barracks, police-stations
nut-houses, cow-sheds prisons
where patriots were shot
and markers for the dead
the grey and cold

to this grey matter
Add life
Mobility
Consciousness
Danger
Daring
and
Willing.
Something wyrd
is happening

before your eyes

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