Sleep Hibernate Shut Down
Sleep hibernate shut down
The choice you offer nightly
And how would it be for me
If this once I just snapped tightly
Closed entrances, ears nose and eyes
Forgot the voices clamouring and ties
Opted for out of it, made like the bears
Curled up with the tortoise for sweet beddy-bies
Found a warm hidey-hole, far from the phone
The winking of messages, flash of the text
Cleared all the diaries, said some farewells
Blanked out the pages, the future, the next
Took a deep breath and slowed to a crawl
Hunched up, turned my back as winter snows fell
Slept through the freeze, economic and real
The nightly detailing of soldiers in hell
The famines, disasters, bad news by the hour
Dragging us under in rage and despair
The issues, Big Issues, for country and globe
Injustice, destruction, outrage and nightmare
It’s only a moment of choice on the screen
Sleep hibernate shut down, fingertip touch
Fantasy reveries, swiftly declined
How do I love thee, world, oh how much!
With all of the torments, the wicked, the sad
I’ll cling to the sunlight, the moonlight, the air
The loving, connecting, the struggle, delight
Ineffable beauty, the precious, the rare
It’s all of a piece, the rough with the smooth
The yin and the yang, the shadow the light
So all of my days, no brainer, of course
I’ll stick with the programme, til final goodnight
August 1st 2009 Hounoux
Sleep hibernate shut down
The choice you offer nightly
And how would it be for me
If this once I just snapped tightly
Closed entrances, ears nose and eyes
Forgot the voices clamouring and ties
Opted for out of it, made like the bears
Curled up with the tortoise for sweet beddy-bies
Found a warm hidey-hole, far from the phone
The winking of messages, flash of the text
Cleared all the diaries, said some farewells
Blanked out the pages, the future, the next
Took a deep breath and slowed to a crawl
Hunched up, turned my back as winter snows fell
Slept through the freeze, economic and real
The nightly detailing of soldiers in hell
The famines, disasters, bad news by the hour
Dragging us under in rage and despair
The issues, Big Issues, for country and globe
Injustice, destruction, outrage and nightmare
It’s only a moment of choice on the screen
Sleep hibernate shut down, fingertip touch
Fantasy reveries, swiftly declined
How do I love thee, world, oh how much!
With all of the torments, the wicked, the sad
I’ll cling to the sunlight, the moonlight, the air
The loving, connecting, the struggle, delight
Ineffable beauty, the precious, the rare
It’s all of a piece, the rough with the smooth
The yin and the yang, the shadow the light
So all of my days, no brainer, of course
I’ll stick with the programme, til final goodnight
August 1st 2009 Hounoux
From Jenny, a comment and her own 2 poems.
ReplyDeleteHow amazing! The air I breathe (attached) started from a feeling much like this, prompted by the harming of those children in Corby who suffered birth defects because of toxins from the demolition of the steel plant. I really sweated over it, but in the end, a "word" from one of my retreats came through. It was: "Choose life!" It seems the same word came to you!
The air I breathe
I share the air I breathe
with the buzzard hunched atop the pole
the porpoise in his flashing roll
the hilltops’ stately trees
and butterflies and bees;
I feel the thermal’s lazy lift
I know the flowers’ sun-blest gift
and birdsong after rain –
and I’m a child again.
Granny’s Apples
Did you throw an apple core, or maybe stone of plum
In the deep damp cutting where the sun could barely come?
And did you sit back on your seat,
with folded hands and tidy feet
and watch the spark-filled smoke
and the small fires it awoke
in the drier high-up patches,
where the grass was dry as thatches?
And did you ever guess
how these small gifts would bless
the children yet unborn
who in the early morn
tread gaily down that track
where the trains will not come back?
Now the blossom of the plum
tells of harvests yet to come
and the apple trees profuse
give the banks another use
and the fireweed holds its memories
of flying sparks on days like these.