Contemporaries
His Story
The Drawing Room
The wind in the curtains —

How can I tell the story of
the wind — the end is
the beginning — the
wind of the mind unwinds
the scent of the
North Star —
Send me
a sentence.

They tell me you learned
your knots.

Yea — I was tiller boy
in Heishker — I could bind
her cord to a pinnace
to windward and learned to
find her a memling of old
cast — and anchor her deep
down drawn deeper.
So when the tide drew her
outward the cords would shriek
and catch at the Amist by
the volcano barnacles on
the downward draft of a
gromlech or a pinnacle —
the draw of the ebb
could not uncurl the golden
serpent from her kill —
ever.

Could the wind talk you out
of it?

So say what is the oldenest knot we know?
May it be the granny, sir?
The way she lies loose
Ties the noose?
Maybe at sea — but say you
were me — Captain —
and we were knotted nowhere
in slumber — Where the fish
fly and seabirds think to
scuttle us?

They say — god sleight
— give me then
my sword — say the warning — then unsheathe
the lily of light from
dawn’s jeweled scabbard.
Young Kit, you will pray
like a virgin as I play the
perfect hand and ply this
ancient trade of mine to steal
the heart of the heartless
Gordian knot — - ...
plunge into the diamond
cascade of the sea-foam —
the eldest knot of olde is the not of yesterday —
but older I bet
the knot of the not-yet
you must know the plan
and pray you keep the reef knot to your self!

The sea has its plenitude, its
dark nights of the soul, its
backwaters, its emerald
mountains and the frolic
of a festival, dolphin
flights to distract almost
all of us. Time is
sand in the hand of a stranger —
‘round capes and curves,
have a hand in midnight
alchemy — “Wind — now you see
it now you don’t” —
So there! In a spell —
may dawn’s fingers
uncover for this hidden hand whatever
depths, disasters
and plunders, — slip like
dust through my fingers —
we reach to take back
with us the pearl
o’ great prices.

Think simple! What’s to you
anyway if I lie beside
you — beside, say it — a
lily-paven lake in
azure mist, as we take in
our nostrils quintessential
essences of medieval
fortresses, castles of
drunkenness and then —
sentences of flowers come
like pressing tastes
to our famished lips — .
What can shape invisible
kisses — why a wet wind —
silk furls and furloughs —
brush like light spray
on the eyelids —
to loosen necklaced
intersections of convergent
mind-beams of sapphire
from sleep?
In the hollow of the hold in the
hold of the hollow take
two for one or one for
two mixed matched
doubled or paired, —

spells and
parallels,

Now you know what happens
when you take to the mysteries —
now you know the what-if-
I-try-to-touch —

fall off the apple cart
you did well as you did
yourself in — to tease
the tongue back into
the mouth of the serpent —
nothing left to find
in the landscape of your
hands
tempted me

to this fear over here —
you think they guide you

to words — on a page —
something to say for your

curses — now
how can you pay for

your way — so long —
at seaside —

What notes when you took
to your mouth the magic

horn of the unicorn?
Have you heard the universe

escape from your lips —
the rush of a thousand visions
the power of the night
the veins of light …

July 24, 2012