Status Updates From Collected Poems

Sleep navigates the tides of time;

But when the stars, assuming shape,
Drew in his eyes the straws of sleep,
He drowned his father’s magics in a dream.

A darkness in the weather of the eye
Is half it’s light; the fathomed sea
Breaks on unangled land.

A process in the eye forewarns
The bones of blindness; and the womb
Drives in a death as life leaks out.

Halfway through and in way over my head

This flesh you break, this blood you let
Make desolation in the vein,
Were oat and grape
Born of the central root and sap;
My wine you drink, my bread you snap.

Once in the wine the summer blood
Knocked in the flesh that decked the vine,
Once in this bread
The oat was merry in the wind;
Man broke the sun, pulled the wind down.

This bread I break was once the oat,
This wine upon a foreign tree
Plunge in its fruit;
Man in the day or wind at night
Laid the crops low, broke the grapes joy.

The brains of death undid the knot
Before the blood and flame were twined
In love’s last collar.

Night in the sockets round,
Like some pitch moon, the limit of the globes;
Day lights the bone;

[letter] I realise that it is impossible for me to raise myself to the altitude of the stars, and that i am forced, therefore, to bring down the stars to my own level and to incorporate them into my own physical universe.

When logics die,
The secret of the soil grows through the eye,

Dawn breaks behind the eyes

Light breaks where no sun shines;
Where no sea runs, the waters of the heart
Push in their tides;
And, broken ghost with glow-worms in their heads,
The things of light
File through the flesh where no flesh decks the bones.

You who bow down at cross and altar,
Remember me and pity Him
Who took my flesh and bone for armour
And double crossed my mother’s womb.