thoughts

The year the solitude went away

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Looked up one day

it had gone away

the miasma of nothingness

not nothing: thoughts, private, personal contained

in heads and held stiff in upper lips

worlds secret and interior

projected now on screens rectangular

become

the same, shared, cyberflung

enmeshed sudden, and

unexpectedly

irreversible?

a sunset in London

as I wake to a West Virgina morn

while the sound of

flight 370 ruptures

our membrane of hubris

reminding us

we’re still trapped in beingness

and the addiction, the pornography

in the idea

of post geography

 

This poem was inspired by a wonderful interview with sci-fi author William Gibson “On technology, science fiction and the apocalypse” that I watched yesterday. In it, he talks about witnessing the advent of connectivity – being on a train station in central London where everyone was just standing around in their own thoughts, then, only one month later in the same spot, suddenly every person was  staring at their new smartphone. I’ve borrowed some of his lines, including the title. 

 

Photo: by me, it’s Swiss national day! 1 August.

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Minnow haiku

in the spaces in

sleep I haiku, recall but

one line when awake

 

another night in

sweaty sheets I plot a whole

novel, also gone

 

every day I try

to mark time, just moments, brain

leaps, thin, minnow-bright

 

beach-star dances, dawn

waves enjoying one final

twinkle before fade

 

Photo: Josie Tebo

Dragon Breath

 

And I thought about what someone far away was doing

imagined

a length of yellow-white fabric with words printed on it

fluttering near a bedroom window

 

Someone flying long-haul in a plane through dark sky

right now, that twilight world of

stale-cold air, engine hum, the fittings’ faint rattle and the rustle

of other people

 

A view over the rooftops of buildings

(see the city’s ripped back sides)

 

Stepping alone into an early-morning kitchen

he puts on the light

feeling the unheated floor and seeing crumbs on the benchtops

makes no move to clean them away

 

The pattern: blush of bright pink, royal blue and orange

imprinted behind closed eyes

intersected with black, it’s a piece of clothing

that existed cheaply, wonderfully, in a previous decade