Poem 2 for The Gamut
From a commission by Gilbert Grace artist and convenor of The Gamut social change project (link to The Gamut's blog) - this is the second poem in the poetic tryptych. The second poem is meant for viva voce - spoken word yet I have worked it also to have a bit of writerly merit for the page.
Poem 2 for The Gamut
of astronomical algebra of youth’s passionfruit cluster
a rust of spiral distances sway
in waltzes moving the parallax Danube
in ruby channels that rush the spheric freshets
in iron pyrite orbits – gold to the fool
on the hill on Mount Olympus and the heart of magma
in a suite of lightning and suit of lava
some lightest atmosphere of cyanide laced intelligent algae
with aspiration to travel and spore
up to the magnetic woolrope that keeps
integral the embedded gyration
of the moon’s hips and Venus’ core
the morning star icon in the night attic
came down as a coin – came down erotic
and penny’s to the thought then pennies from heaven
but we all know she’s not
sugar spilt on the top floor
fell as meteor shower through a high trap door exeunt omnes
and your umbrella could not keep the dust refined
from the tiny infinity of the skin of she
the one to be adored – to have pre-empted attentions
that have never taken score – sugar refined or sweet sugar raw
Venus the gloater the 8 o’clock cloaker
voting absent tonight in her coat of sugar spilt
she plays like sugar rum on the coat of your tongue
the percussion of pulsars and bracelet of suns
the coronet of sweat from the brow of Sirius
A soldier to mercury and the blue luminescence
the circuits that span as far as the sky can see
the fairground is bumping out soon enough
the early curve of day pauses rough break
the rigging of wires are pulled away from
the form of one light and a daytime moon
hangs obscene like a kite in a tree
waiting for the stars to bestow their nights for free
and arise - for the stars dub thee, dub thee, dub thee and dub thee
(Large)
A sprawling circuit of blue luminescence
nodes to the dark sparkle dome
our backs on cool grass looking moonwards
to catch Venus bathing and glowing in honeydew
the milky way ever-surrounds like passionfruit vine
time jumps up to these elliptical wanderlings
the imagined cooling in a studio of airconditioners
dissipating the far nebula from
the position of the arithmetical azimuth lines A sprawling circuit of blue luminescence
nodes to the dark sparkle dome
our backs on cool grass looking moonwards
to catch Venus bathing and glowing in honeydew
the milky way ever-surrounds like passionfruit vine
time jumps up to these elliptical wanderlings
the imagined cooling in a studio of airconditioners
dissipating the far nebula from
of astronomical algebra of youth’s passionfruit cluster
a rust of spiral distances sway
in waltzes moving the parallax Danube
in ruby channels that rush the spheric freshets
in iron pyrite orbits – gold to the fool
on the hill on Mount Olympus and the heart of magma
in a suite of lightning and suit of lava
some lightest atmosphere of cyanide laced intelligent algae
with aspiration to travel and spore
up to the magnetic woolrope that keeps
integral the embedded gyration
of the moon’s hips and Venus’ core
the morning star icon in the night attic
came down as a coin – came down erotic
and penny’s to the thought then pennies from heaven
but we all know she’s not
sugar spilt on the top floor
fell as meteor shower through a high trap door exeunt omnes
and your umbrella could not keep the dust refined
from the tiny infinity of the skin of she
the one to be adored – to have pre-empted attentions
that have never taken score – sugar refined or sweet sugar raw
Venus the gloater the 8 o’clock cloaker
voting absent tonight in her coat of sugar spilt
she plays like sugar rum on the coat of your tongue
the percussion of pulsars and bracelet of suns
the coronet of sweat from the brow of Sirius
A soldier to mercury and the blue luminescence
the circuits that span as far as the sky can see
the fairground is bumping out soon enough
the early curve of day pauses rough break
the rigging of wires are pulled away from
the form of one light and a daytime moon
hangs obscene like a kite in a tree
waiting for the stars to bestow their nights for free
and arise - for the stars dub thee, dub thee, dub thee and dub thee
