Wednesday, August 1, 2018

James Walton #108 Sssssh........sleeping in there!

a mother of pearl sky
out of the library window
from the American oak couch

the bookcase wall nearly full

if it capsizes and carries me
over these rapids as I cling
to handrails of words

by dreams sourced in nacre
would you say the chalice
has landed far from the fleece

a nana blanket of pages

go on pick them up
while you whacko the did
coming upon a misplaced classic

(in Hollywood a Nobel laureate did reside)

a saucer spilled
biscuits to sponge such bodies
crocheted as they are

between me and all the years
of the things I cannot know
still I believe their resonance

hums these boards past japanning

as my socks slide
pure wool union labour
the fair trade of collected knowledge

wipe the stained imaginings
wring out what you can
save a space for another century

held close in each edition
caressed to a swoon of language

I’d like to be your bookmark


  1. Whacko the did...possibly not that many of us left to say that, one of my Dad's regular pronouncements. Super poem btw.

    1. I didn't think the full version worked, whacko the diddlio, seemed too long for the line.

    2. It's a glorious poem James thank you and I remember once stumbling drunk near a bookcase and now can't recall if it was even mine but trying hard to fall away from it but only falling nearer till I was full leopard on it and those old books were spilling everywhere on top of me lord they were paper lord the case came down hard they were full of words I suppose it was a baptism...


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