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Saturday, 16 June 2012

Southwell 2112




15 tales from 
Southwell Chapter House
2012




Dedication:
to the ones
who see something
who know something
and
who live what they see...


Narthex

i
She 
the one met learning
mis-placed
mis- matched even
lowly handmaiden
servant of the LORD
be it done unto me
according the word
as it was in the beginning
now and evermore
Amen.


ii
He the shy and cunning
twisted ties of home and away
wearing magical carpets
lightly 
outwardly bestowing
gifts of a lifetime
generously with measure
and pace.


iii
He the simple complex soul
generator
interpreter guide
open honest 
as the day is long and wearied
by the lack of recognition
satisfied by the accord
given by those who love him


Prebend

iv
He of the horses laugh
deep conviction
high opinion
loving longingly 
tearful eyes for the woman he lost
tearful soul for the mother he lost
he beat his harsh exterior 
planished his soul 
for love of knowing
in times of distress.

v
He the
gentle man
impressions on silk 
of a past so rich
transferred 
with gentle loving care
smooth as a sunset
light as a kiss
gestured lightly
with a loose grip.

vi
He the lost soul
fighting inner demons
ravaged by drink and 
eaten by self-hate
longing for mama
longing 
for the maggot in his soul
to be gone
feeding it constantly
encouraging its
growth.


Nave

vii
He
the first to separate light from dark
little less than the gods themselves
towering over their precociousness
in his humanity 
smashing their high towers
pulling them down to earth
anchoring them in the crumbs
of everyday
devising more and more stories
with which to discredit the storytellers
painting images in the mind
dishonouring the painters trade
Yes
he certainly put them in their place
with a certainty built on sand
as all certainty is.

viii
He
the godaware one
earnestly doing without
body or soul 
in the cause of truth
second place body
first placing mind
and dialogue above
all else
purposely misconstrued
forerunner of the Nazarene
he took the cup with gentle ease
slipping from their gaze 
into their unconscious.

ix
She 
the visionary
pierced with loves arrows
time and again
ecstatic love
blind to bodily passion
acquiescence personified
blinded by the light 
silenced by the sound
able only to harmonise
with the heavenly chord
timelessly
weaving vision with sound

x
He
of the mighty oak
deeply rooted in prosody
rhyme meter and song
sitting on the kings throne
dripping with connections to
the other-words
torn and twisted
learning the ways
to straighten and re twist
the cords of life
in all seasons
cloaked in feathers
of glistening gold
and silver
spry and light he flew
across the plains 

xi
He
the mighty ancient bear
proudly bumbling in and out 
of cave and well
in defence 
constantly questing
in his brown-blackness
camouflaged against reason
smashing down doors of ignorance
and logic
proudly wearing 
battle scars of the old days
smiling proudly 
couching me in his arms
enfolding love

xii
She
the flighty jet black crow
seeing high above
lands and seas of 
joyful discovery
hoping from foot to foot
dancing on the grave of logic
with her mother wit 
this bag of feathers
flies the arterial roads
of knowledge accrued
over the ages
and counts it all
as dust
pecking around 
for hidden crusts
and rain pools
in which to dip it


Choir

xiii
They
so many 
impossible to count
shouting after the first
me!
mine!
we!
ours!
listen…
grubbing around for crumbs
from the table
missing the point
missing the table
fighting and killing
for the right to claim 
a place at the table
there are empty chairs
look up 
look up!


Altar


xiv
They 
with trumpet blast
proclaim
in song and heavenly notation
the joy of live performance
the living song 
the living word
that stirs the orphic gland within
connecting
linking with filamental love
the lover to his soul
together they transcend
for seconds out of time
in spaces carved from 
life’s allotted span


Lady Chapel

xv
nearly
in silence
close by now
gently flowing streams
constructed cathedral leaves
about my head
laurel leaved
victorious
over death
no longer held captive
the manacle marks
slowly heal
cataract dimness
darkened eyes
perceive such a heavy 
light
lifted effortlessly
revealing the ford
the stream
the endless starry night
hear
my soul sing 
appropriate tribute
necessary half shekel
to the sky
baying at the moon
hard pressed 
now
fated to come to my knees
arms outstretched
freely returning 
the unasked for 
gift of life
so cruelly
bestowed
for my sanctification and salvation
from everlasting time
and for the sake of nothing
sounding foolish
like a gardener
outside the tomb
crying for his lost love.