Soft Keys

PM00000080000003230 15: 2012 § 2 Comments

For the poet’s image is a spoken image – Gaston Bachelard.

Building on notions of home, heimat, the uncanny, Maya’s ‘Meshes…’, doppelgängers, here are two poems of mine from earlier this year: the first from walking back to a present home (UK) and the second written on returning to a former home (Barcelona). Perhaps they can offer an path….

for Helix Pomatia

Wet, bearing softly home up
glitter-crossed path unlit
I close my eyes:
guardian of small things,
guide my way clear
of the silent lovers
of moonlight’s cool
and autumn’s breath.
Keep them safe
those mute, melting gods
carrying whole worlds on their backs.


Left Behind
to a City

So I went back. Just to see the place one more time.
Remind myself of what I had and who I was and used to be.
Went back down those same old streets and alleys,
Past those same shops and crossings,
Watched the same buses and bikes sweep by, saw the same dogs.
All in order on my nostalgic wander
Until I ducked down a familiar short cut
Only to find someone already there, head bowed, scribbling into some notebook.
He turned as I called.
‘What are you still doing here?’ I said.
He regarded me with a pitying stare.
‘You can’t be here. I’ve left.’
Silently, he held my gaze.
And there we stood, together alone in the side street
Until finally he spoke and said
‘Have you?’
‘Yes,’ I answered.
‘You have,’ he said
‘But I haven’t.’
Then I walked away –
Left myself alone in that side street and walked out into the city.




§ 2 Responses to Soft Keys

  • John Levett says:

    Left behind: Still Left

    in september 1970 i walked along lime street for the sake of saying so having arrived at that moment of liverpool eclipse
    in october i sat in the metropolitan cathedral and heard a thousand children singing and saw god in the stained glass windows
    i waited at a bus stop on edge hill on a november afternoon and knew a communal future
    i practiced libertarian teaching to the shackled and aspired to a bedsit in scotland road amongst my people
    bromley beckoned

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