this is the isles issue...

jeffreyside




Extracts from Carrier of the Seed

                     



You made Pandora visit me
from her disruptions across
the sea her mane was
stretched like Cyprus flow
and her mind was as smooth
as causation at a time I had
reached my most content you
pointed her up and to me you
sent like when I passed
quickly through the sheep
pool clustered together there
at the edge of a clearing the
struggle for mating territory
accident and necessity but at
base level this just comes
down to quality asset
concepts recommended for
global incremental alignment
nonetheless you were loved 
attracted by cries of the
tormented with the stick
which she uses for leather no
less than poverty expressive
of self doubt held in a head-
lock laughing whose mother
emerges as I sometimes do
myself known for contending
scandal in the libraries
exposed on sale insist we
tolerate anthropology in the
island fashion much of our
lives women and children
with equal truth that burns
produce syndrome which
accelerates metabolism and
the midnight blue of zenith
impersonal and personal
made clear by the notices and
the poster exploitative and
acute against various
defences we might keep the
altitude in view by the stream
near Vancouver Ö

I wanted to put things right
down to the letter while he
was just a child and she
called him to her bedside and
said Iím dying Iím poorer
than your parents and Iíve
nothing much to leave
sometimes I think we have
no choice I wanted to be real
not plastic as once I loved a
bonny lass safe from all the
sleet that had accumulated on
frigid Englandís sterile
streets while somewhere in
the light an artist drew you
near trees that will never start
and cooperation was not
forthcoming so that it shall
not be confused with itself
come on baby do your stuff
you know how to serve me
suppose you screeve or go
cheap Jack sometimes it
takes luck even to think
straight they would hold you
in the darkness and kiss you
in the light they would listen
to your story until your stress
was slight then they departed
in the evening when the sun
was turning night and her
pulse did beat for thee Iím
lost and I donít know why
sarakawi you loved me really
even though you chased after
your lover but could not
catch him I shouldíve been
somewhere by now Iíll see
you back on deck Ö

no reason for your mind to
leave you the clarity of the
native hands are deep within
your bed and the mournful
words that are uttered can
never be unsaid and the ones
who were within you are now
without toiling in different
cities to keep your fortress
stone to break now that
kingdoms come and
kingdoms go and your soul in
Gertrudeís precious chamber
your love they tried and for
the world outside women in
the parlour have remembered
and in the scattered
graveyard the stolen church
bell tolls you through the
mazes that surround you to
America in this life and in
the next from your computer
they hope you travelled to
claim your freedom back
cattle on a fading then you
came home with a letter
written to shattered hearts
your Arctic beams shone
down on the eyes who would
not leave a minstrel revealing
the pure sound of the music
and the blood that must
sustain you pilgrims
suspended between life and
death and the still cold trails
of autumn dawn were shown
to you caught between two
vast shores where the wind
had caught your breath you
were raised above and all that
did remain was taken from
you  used to watch the
dancing girls while they were
writhing in their trance with
their chartered bodies in
jeopardy and all the men who
surrounded  you had waited
for their chance they were
ghostly then but now they do
not haunt you but those days
are long behind weary
confession but you still retain
your grace and all of this
territory where all the
maidens in the valleys are
trapped within their sleep Ö




 



jeffreyside has had poetry published in various magazines such as Poetry Salzburg Review, and on poetry web sites such as Underground Window, A Little Poetry, Poethia, nthposition, eratio, Ancient Heart, Blazevox, TEXTIMAGEPOEM, APOCRYPHALTEXT, 9th St. Laboratories, P.F.S. Post, Great Works, hutt, ken*again, and CybpherAnthology. He has reviewed poetry for New Hope International, Stride, Acumen, and Shearsman. From 1996 to 2000 he was the assistant editor of The Argotist magazine. He now runs The Argotist Online poetry web site. Find his blog, here.

back  forward