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J A C K E T # 6 contents page | homepage |
| | Bill Griffiths Two Poems |
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DECORATING & INSURANCE FACTORS proem: A beacon Welcome to the wood "Excuse me. . . thanks" The reduction to charcoal for the extreme manufacture of pottery, glass, gold. And a blue filter. A rhyming experience in a way. "Welcome to the sensitive home." * When everything is so neatly arranged. . . Even house-breakers respect the alphabet! I imagine they scan the Dutch seascape. And see it is a copy. And the screen of cranes. it is a reproduction. Also. The Olson and Williams -- too modern. Only the video really. And the TV maybe. (Halt! Lasst ihm!) Elements. Discord. Do you want to risk your reason? Leave the amp. Miserere. Pity the sound-system! OK. It's old. (pass-over) There is no threat - to the music. Just a supervision of consistency. And you know my opinion of the rugs. |
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* O go So many candles (bougies) in packs on offer Who will they light? I pass. Who (I ask you) on what horns trees/stands/sticks/cusps the lighting a set singing not cake-pink or church-pale more for scale of boats move glow nor in mauve or marquisite * so pastel please palest a yellow lion and wash -- the mist-thin pink pea and round the door and rabbit brings a missive to hedgehog 'It's a writ,' sez rabbit. 'We opened it. So we know,' sez squirrel. Se kyning þe ahte þisse weald het gretan . . . and biddeð . . . there are seed-white clocks above are the butter-globe-flowers and greens dull greens a plank door and bidded ye blinnan (be a lot quieter) * IO declare such strangeness keyboard and tendrils bellows whispering into work on the keys and vines in the hall, rasping melody and soft note-fall, externally wood overhung with clusters of flower old stock of raspberry joining pipe and mineral and chest in my play-dream * Welcome to the village, he sez. It's a quiet life around here, you know. A wooden kirk, a few simple rules There are trees (evergreens of course) Altho' it is very quiet, sheep there are, safely grazing A widow could safely walk (sez Bede) but there is not much room in fact it is a strictly average windowsill with models models of things all homes are moulded around a station, a farm, a church * The thing from the churchyard that was found with its hand missing in the excavation undertook on the north side called several times wanted converse about your assumptions regarding exotic irrational exocultures and the Taliban. It held a copy of The Guardian and pointed excitedly to the bit in 1962 about repatriating Rastas from Jamaica. It seemed angry. Somehow grander and grander they march banners maroon and patterned with wheat, passing stars, passion, peace. Will call back. * Great Towers rose I viewed dragons are wheeled on and a hero metallurgical. The set is a full set. there were rooms, classes, levels, gates Curious disposals of stone stair carved fine wooden galleries (motifs armorial) master chambers corridors twisting and spiering higher round and around to the silhouetted tip se tur þone þa gigantas worhton. . . lime in troughs, large stones brought up on winch-engines ready for dispersal CAP-POW! on the little screen heroic they enact "Take the tree -- Take me!" cries Sieglinde And the Spring ruffles the spines. in a tale of puppet-box TV and giants all a matter of scale * Well, yes, I so seem to have brought some scrap of entrail in on my boots. Or it could be a pungent red berry. it will soon accommodate. THE SEVEN FLUTES OF JOHN JACOB ASTOR
"John Jacob Astor landed in Baltimore in 1784 Have you seen the bruises on a twenty-pound note? The heather-purple patch shading to blue to green and the gashes of scarlet are electric. See the frenetic disweaving of silver thread, tugging and tearing at, a scrunching before dissolving the watermark forever. Does it have to be so? 2. Dick on the fruit-machine. Money in. For lights, and chances, and decisions, some extra spins - guess 'n' gamble 'n' lose. Why it's like askin' aught of them, 'n' they sits in desks. Na-win reptiles. Sons of Sephim. Sackless, pereant et in exterioribus partibus extravagabunt. 3. coins again back in the air, bright each economic scheme simulates resurrection of the loved ye that were not known nothing in the mutty earth a trace an element node unregistered heeded not at all when all the secrets out and wipe and tip on toss detected 4. all it takes all it takes is a little pump-bump-bump-bump freckled prongs coiled fronds are we up yet? up yet? all bump it takes bump a little prong frond ground growth pump-bump is it? is it? is it? are we? is it? up yet? up yet? PRONG FROND Then shall the cerements be loosed - can you help me? can you help me with the knot? No exit! no, not that way help with the freckled-coiled pegging jumping global surge out! is it? is it? is it? are we? is it? singing O my God! what are we? We shall all be one. But richer. The proper product of a well-managed fugue is the total fruiting field 5. seven in this case we display the puzzling objects. the workmanship? It is quite gothic. The lettering? not quite a roman nor anything else kind of script. What do you think? It has been attributed variously to King Arthur, Moses, and Hannibal. 6. for the flute is all possessions rounded in one: gazelles in triplicate leaping n hanging gross books derelict there is not a still bit about so much fancy balancing / dart up 7. In my temerity I have a plus-plus view I am doing the bruising now purple-to-pleasant-blue appear on top there is some webbed red and bodily brights to come before the thinness need to check for patterns marks - quality - the paper (parched) all scrunched nothing left to do but get in there and isolate the silver potent thread nothing can cheat that it is a symbol of survival like tangible out of spirit and yes, it is properly incorporated. The thing is genuine. |
| | Bill Griffiths was born in Middlesex in 1948. By 1971, his first poems were published in Poetry Review under the editorship of Eric Mottram. In the second half of Bill's life, he made a new start studying Old English at King's College, London, obtaining a PhD in 1986. This led to a fruitful co-operation with Anglo-Saxon Books in Norfolk, and many new titles, including an edition of The Battle of Maldon and a book on Anglo-Saxon Magic. His latest books are Rousseau and the wicked (Invisible Books, London, 1996), a joint book with Tom Raworth and Tom Leonard (Etruscan Reader 5, Etruscan Books, Buckfastleigh, 1997) and on his own, Nomad sense (Talus Editions, London, 1998). Bill is currently working on cataloguing the Mottram Archive donated to King's College London, and has at least two more books of poems ready. |
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J A C K E T # 6
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