ascending

from the first movement

cold the heated city
countless pedestrian agonies
except i lie down with you
and sleep and hug and sleep
in the dusty bedroom
and kiss my son’s ear
everything will be over
everything will have failed
and nothing will have changed for it
and this will not matter
before and after will not matter
in the bare bed again
in our lifeboat house
on our continent of garden
obsessed with lettuces
with our tree protectors
prest by the sun into remaining
given no choice but to run on the grass
to sing invisible
songs of persistence
hot and complicated as nasturtiums
crushed under blue sky
where swifts bicker and dash
stateless acrobats

fear and peace

in here
how the leaf falls into place
at the moment of the universe
beginning
so that
rain against the doors
a great embrace
cascade of hailshot on glass
finds rhythm
what fell into my eyes
was her smile
holding the thorn man
so that
all was uncertain
all shapes momentary and
shifting
and i was among them
my tree among them
soaked
so that i must
ascend the dark house
and enter again their first breathing
as i would descend into water
all my skin alight
with them
with love
so that
when light takes us apart
there is some chance
spark
some scent or
night scar marking me
apart
a thing
of theirs a
loved man
disarmed
entranced

to make preparations

                the frog who fell in the waterbutt
                we have rescued
                his hipbones sticking up
                he considers the undergrowth
                preparing to vanish

and that those preparations have an end
a casting off:
all walls built
all trees hugged

to find a word for the universe

to find a word in ourselves
that carries this garden always

day of frog-gazing
the boy wants to put him in a jar
fetches the jar
the girl points at the frog
not her first
the boy brings the jar closer
we discourage him
everyone watches the frog
who lets us stroke his back
which is pale brown
spotted with dark brown
his eyes could be worn in the ears
of a queen

as a whole and single thing
as every thing
as a moment of tide-shape
calligraphy of waters
the great writing
something
even in the ceaseless motors
as if matter had been poorly advised
all this passing passes
the shadow-willow moving
its making tigerskin of us
of grass
of stone
everything exchanging identities
we are stained
with day

                when he was a baby
                each night for weeks
                he slept on my chest
                this shows in his love of hugging me
                though he has forgotten it
                with his sprinting mind
                (as i in my anger forget

                and cannot forget

2 pens at all times
notebook
keys
a little money
credit cards
a jacket with plenty of pockets
strong shoes
my glasses
a small quantity of weed
a lighter
a saxophone
a word for the universe

poem© keith jafrate 2007
this poem first appeared at
http://www.stridemagazine.co.uk/
and at http://www.shadowtrain.com/index.html

rro

o
o

listen to:
countless pedestrian agonies
all my skin alight
the frog who fell in the waterbutt

the first 2 recordings are taken from our first rehearsal in august 2007, and are in fact the first recorded takes, so they're not the finished article, but we think they're close to it. the 3rd piece we recorded in february 2008.
let us know what you think.