Friday, 19 June 2009

Thanks for the devil I didn’t know

after Alice Oswald -

A is for Angel,
fallen among equals in this devilish alphabet.

B is Brimstones and Burning
desire: much glowing, smoking, igniting, and combusting.

C is for both crypt and coffin
in which you place a person
as he puts forth beseeching hands into darkness.

D E F is the Deaf and Dumb finito silence of the quite dead.

Grace is for the intercessions
prayed by hearts and minds on earth as in heaven
that a soul may be saved from destruction and live.
Else it’s H for Hades and hell.

I, by far the most familiar and inward looking devil,
I is work for hands grown idle
that tried to toil and fold an origami devil but failed:
impossible to spread the thumb and fingers, then valley fold
(repeat other side):
neither paper (red, flimsy) and time (short) fit for purpose.

Whereas J and K both, for Jinn and Knave,
are mother’s ruin, maid’s downfall.

L M N is a lemon strung up high
together with seven red chillies bending back the Eye,
which malicious glance may mean a man withers and goes down to the pit.

O is “Oh my God, Other people”
for P and Q are the Prince and his mother, the Queen
issuing forth wearing Prada.

R is Rebellion personified,
who ruins and destroys by leading astray through many lies, deceptions,
temptations, enticements;
putting to proof, accusing, testing, then actuating to govern poor sinners.

And S is the salt other people throw over
left shoulders, backwards, to blind the devil, keep him at bay:
ensure a safe distance.
But T is for “Talk of the devil, he’s sure to appear;
speak of an angel you’ll hear wings.

Then U for Usurper is the illegitimate claimant
who already made himself king of the world, without he ascended the throne.

Plus you’ve V which is the Voice of the Devil (illumined by Blake)
and W for wisdom with a difference:
a palace no less, reached by roads of excess
whilst riding not horses of instruction, but tigers of Wrath.

Last X is for the eXorcist
whereby Y for Yaweh is restored
and the Z in BeelZebubb cast out.

All’s right. God’s in His heaven. But easy does it...

There’s an old devil called love.

June 2009

Tuesday, 9 June 2009

Double Take

I saw fish farm breeding pools glint silver
down in the valley. I was mistaken.

I saw limed-oak silver ribbons festoon
early morning roadside fields. Wrong again.

Not rivers and lakes. A trick of first light:
sheets of food-grade cornstarch and polythene

tunnels litter, smother and wrap the hill sides.
A green and plastic fresh made-over land.

June 2009

Saturday, 6 June 2009

Just show up, day after day

I make the daily half hour offering:
tender in silence, with all due reverence,
here at the altar of long suffering.

Not pleading exactly, more like praying
how long Oh Muse, how long? Nevertheless
I make the daily half hour offering

after twenty plus years, still aspiring,
with all due humility, for success.
Here at the altar of long suffering.

I repeat the mantra again, yearning
to become a published poetess:
“I make the daily half hour offering.”

Without a result, nothing forthcoming
I doubt its power, its effectiveness,
here at the altar of long suffering.

Then eureka! I should have been writing
as well, when together with my presence
I make the daily half hour offering
here at the altar of long suffering.

May 2009