Saturday, August 11, 2018

James Walton #111 I could not remember the name of Twister

the wind is in from Antarctica
banging the sheet metal of night

I threw a ball up into the sky
watched the inevitable fall

of civilisations through clouds
where mercury boiled

but turned on an alchemist’s anvil
filling teeth in truth composite

an afterthought in rain
lapsed for thawed pretensions

the way a tree believes an absolute
in the felling bounce of one hand

ambidextrous for any reverberation
as mesmerising as the smell of leather

balanced precariously between
the shot tower’s dust

and the bend to another colour
over the tight rope of a stranger’s inscribe

where I swear you were carrying
the swirl of a mandala

softly as a shell less egg
catch it catch it you’re out!


  1. caught out of the egg once more
    still yolked to this same life

  2. a marvelous poem James I'm still waiting for the ball to fall ;)

    1. Reminded a little of this old one...


      Maybe the penny drops a little
      faster than the tar pitch drip
      70 years at the one experiment
      white coats, cigarettes, cameras
      the viscosity has been vicious
      said a scientist (name withheld)
      the tension killed many of us
      meanwhile comes another one
      slower than ideal, slower than
      the time it takes this all to fall
      between two people, a lifetime
      to drop that distance, how slow
      it needs a moment to be formed
      the glance, the touch, the kiss
      tonight about this tar pitch.


Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.