Hi Bill,
Na, it's just a poem. Difficult? Dunno. I don't write difficult poems.
Or random. Too hard. I'm always in the real moment, but that's just
me.
The o thing was more in the Rimbaudian sense and/or mock or serious
elevated exclamation. Or simply breath. Not wailing in my mind, but of
course, each to their own in the reading. Always makes me think.
Thanks,
Jill
________________________
Jill Jones
www.jilljones.com.au
Latest book: Brink, Five Islands Press
http://fiveislandspress.com/catalogue/brink-jill-jones
----- Original Message -----
From: "Poetryetc: poetry and poetics"
To:
Cc:
Sent:Wed, 18 Apr 2018 08:58:19 +0000
Subject:Re: Snap: Here We Are
Gotta say this is difficult to me, Jill. Another exercise for you?
The
accretion of images is powerful but jagged, almost random in places
although the o’s enrich the wailing tone.
Bill
On Wed, 18 Apr 2018 at 1:51 pm, Jill Jones wrote:
>
>
> HERE WE ARE
>
>
>
> thin silver wind in eucalypts
>
> dust the precious drowsy sweetness
>
> yellow in open morning turn
>
> to autumn magpie, kookaburra
>
> corella, pigeon even in bird rage
>
> for territory sweets in windowed air
>
> every minute o that remarkable
>
> what would nectar do o you angles
>
> of dawn, breasting dawn o seriously
>
> feathers out there 150 million kilometres
>
> of light o sunspot activity Asian cyclones
>
> o melting Antarctica here we are
>
> openings in sea fissures in the electric
>
> the dream in wake on walls the big dance
>
> shadow thick night sings bye-bye-bye
>
> o breath, I and you breath then breathe
>
> this shadow wake for the not numbed
>
> o let me stretch forth for another
>
> and it comes into me this day like
>
> this day what’s not wrong is not wrong
>
> and round the room high in the aerials
>
> every digital wing what sing!
>
> dream carcass empties sleepless empties
>
> sorry worry empties here full
>
> the blast of traffic into a space
>
> o glittery space fleet thin silver
>
> immense 150 million gold waving oxygen
>
> to taste and to tempt
>
> this kiss welcome here my skin
>
> here my walk again here I am
>
> a part and who is that flickering the door
>
> parcels of dust and making footsteps
>
> making more dust in every
>
> clever molecule all the leaves are grey
>
> so they shine
>
> ________________________
> Jill Jones
> www.jilljones.com.au
>
> Latest book: Brink, Five Islands Press
> http://fiveislandspress.com/catalogue/brink-jill-jones
>
>
>
|