Dawn overslept
i with camera coaxed out of doors
December mmxi
Poetry of L. E. Ashton, 1926 - 2016
Posted by Laurie Ashton at 12/03/2011 0 comments
Labels: for book
Of love
so quick to tongue
be wary
tis for young to learn
we fail by falling
in and out
qualified to earn
how happy how sorry
subject to poet's metaphor
this esteemed estate
where selves subsumed
fall under sway consummate
beyond fancy or expectation
synthesis
opening out
what we share commonly
and how different
to meet to hear to explore
this fair intimacy
arriving through hardihood and puissance
at matched experience
cherished in contemplation
and enjoyed as it unfolds
so to let be let be
let become what becomes
mmix
Posted by Laurie Ashton at 10/23/2011 0 comments
... being of itself utmost bounty
calls originality into being
In the beginning
was the thing most and only alike itself
most alike what it was
and the beginning
being original arose out of its own spontaneity
so the beginning was
and always is the beginning
which we are wont to call right and good
not being able to dance upon the point of π
harmonious proportion
being itself as itself in every way
you and i sue are of that seed and flowering
being ever alike and not alike
and endowed with a sense of proportion
in order to declare thisisthis and thatisthat
we shape into particular things single or many
each a novel identity even in likeness
droplets of the infinite flux and endless flow
which are never lost or estranged
except incidentally or to themselves hapless
for the fulness of being known
is itself being itself in every way
through spontaneity dancing upon the point of π
or finding own selfhood when seeming most lost
mmx
Posted by Laurie Ashton at 10/21/2011 0 comments
Labels: beginnings, selfhood
From Tich Backhouse`s Confessions
Whan i feelz a spazm o`guilt comin`on, i sez to mesen, Tich, me lad, that horsewhip aint yore owen, tiz relick ob your forefaderz who knew no better, treated thissenz like wild beasts.
So i takes me orf t Blaxmitz Armz fer a pint o wallop ter show i iz kind t dumb animulez.
LEA
Posted by Susannah Anderson at 10/19/2011 0 comments
Labels: filosofy, guilt, Tich Backhouse
Hey luv let us go a-jaunting o
when the red-cheeked sun
in her walking-out attire
rises laughing over the horizon
scooting by watchful hawk and eagle
down to the jaunty seagull's hangout
rocky shore sandy beach weedy marge
where tireless tide's urge to push and pull
from bygone sagacity rules
poseidon's fishy realm and aphrodite's foamy origin
where awareness begat sentiency
yes our home too: briny and ozone
whose thriving presence invigorates
while we alert and observant pole and peer
thrilled and often chilled never want for wonder
for this is a force beholden to no-one
and like love provides and demands
generous and severe
L.E.A., mmix
Posted by Susannah Anderson at 10/17/2011 0 comments
Take the eye of mind
the longing "i"
the knowing "i"
explore its subtle self
as in a scrying glass
lit by the lantern of the psyche
enter the cavern of the cranium
at the threshold of awareness
where shapeless musings
beckon at the ports of insight
i have explored the passages of self
braved the introspective dark
undistracted by spectral fantasies
in antiquated dress
which spell-bind with doomsay and revelation
those who peep
then look askance
i learned to step ahead
with ear attuned to resonances
echoic as in a void
and slept inside the tomb of yesterday
where sunlight creeps into the eastern hall
there i awake to life
and mingle with that throng
of feelings thoughts appearances
that market-place
my personality
where i belong
my self-meant territory
early 60s, rev. mmxi
Posted by Laurie Ashton at 10/16/2011 0 comments
Labels: 1960s poems, insight, memory, selfhood
He didn't ask
what state
how low
he felt
not himself
snake-bitten
no escape
his body's travail
wasted
on mundane labour
slumps in chair
sees hand
between thumb and forefinger
map like vellum
translucent
where veins and skin
in perspective
recognize
terrain of age
state he fell in
poor sod
his body
distressed by pain
demands recognition
and yes
briefly mended
he'll disregard
again
and suffer
humiliation
known as
old duffer
mmxi
Posted by Laurie Ashton at 10/14/2011 0 comments
Labels: aging, end of life, pain
Posted by Laurie Ashton at 10/12/2011 0 comments
Labels: intuition