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Under the Weight of Origin

There is earth still under the ambient
Shadow conducted by a solitary candle
And the woman who studies its dancing
Like the subtle movements of an embryo

Beneath the scarecrow whose still passions
Bade it a genderless agent of the l-rd
who elects the terrain of a threshed field
The surface to compose his prophesy

In and among an ancient stone well
Whose history of pennies are small
Tokens of wish geometries

Into the lip of an ocean
whose soft consonance
Like charades of new realities
Holds its single breath
And escapes you
The seafarer dreams lighthouses
And their pools of light onto the waves’ mouths
A quartz crystal canyon, and sleeps
In his armour of restless contentment

Listen again to the eloquence
Of your desire
If it were truly grief that invites
This composure then
Fine raiments of crushed pearl is
Gathered only by wind and starved beaks
As our hands contend to its overtones
Of emptiness

The vane scrapes windward
Under the moon igniting shadow
Upon shadow. A boy
Swallows it in sleep
Believing like astrology
To be an acrobat of the air
The delicate pet of his body is
A spider underneath an upturned water glass.

He’s at an age when
He flails either limb into the snow’s
Temporal blanket, a pastiche
Of broken lily or drowning angel

An old friend told me such a beautiful
Lie on the white of a postcard:
In a timeless dynasty
A student of martial law mourns
In blue-dahlia lettering
When will my brothers of
The river return to their mystery?
Such perfect aftertaste
As if a single grasshopper that
Is an old, discarded lifetime
Streaked in erasure
Rinses the ink off his sage-leaf palimpsest
With an answer

The songs of timeless legend are
Hidden under the sound it makes
And the student carries it like
Bandaged wrists

I had in mind
There is a world to
Which we are uninvited yet
Greeted so delicately and in so
Many ways we have
No other privilege than
To remain, to praise and to welcome

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Under the Weight of Origin by 

thoughts for the day, respects to jorie graham

apparently a poet. also a very skinny 3rd year student from the university of kent, fittingly taking creative writing. runner up in 2011 TS Eliot prize. would like to be a koala bear or a duck in another life; they’re so likeable.

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  • HamperRefuser
    HamperRefuserabout 3 years ago

    Wow man excellent work with great vocabulary… The beginning was really enticing and kept me intrigued for the duration of the work :)

  • twistwashere
    twistwashereabout 3 years ago

    As if a single grasshopper that
    Is an old, discarded lifetime

    Streaked in erasure

    And the student carries it like
    Bandaged wrists

    ooh I so get lost in anothers visual , far to sweet. a bandaged wrist , a token reminder , of an action , one I have been able to run quicker than the physical , but alas , have not been able to outrun the emotional , my scars , are refreshed due to absence.

  • Cynthia Lund Torroll
    Cynthia Lund T...about 3 years ago

    Such a rich piece, with layers and embellishments to dig deep into – to savor…

  • SimplyRed
    SimplyRedabout 3 years ago


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