MAL's FACTORY - Poetry & Prose Poems

A companion to THE WORD OF SINNA LUVVA blog. An Outlet for new poems, drafts of poems and even rediscovered or reworked ones! For more poetry by Malcolm Evison see the Related Sites listing.

Friday, August 04, 2017

Thursday, July 20, 2017

For These Small Mercies (we proffer thanks)


For These Small Mercies (we proffer thanks)


Today, so far at least,
is one of gentle shattered-ness;
welcome relief

from yesterday’s griping
pain and aches.
An ever present undertow,

of generalized discomfort,

still leaves the space
for a richly varied range
of sensory attacks.

Will it be muscles,
joints, gastritis, or other
less easily defined

components of
the neurological kind.
Today at least

I have enjoyed a time
of gentle relaxation,
an ease of body

and a calmer mind.



                                          Malcolm Evison
                               20 July 2017

Saturday, June 10, 2017

Man For His Age - a poem

    MAN FOR HIS AGE


Care-worn he leads
his guilt free life,
turns fears
into a bar-room joke –

he never fails
though sometimes falls
a victim to
“the changing times”.

Suburban heroes never weep,
they share with celluloid
an inability to bleed.

He veils his sorrows in
a sentimental song
and never sins –

his standards are complete
and up to date.

A true son
of a dying race.





                Malcolm Evison

Tuesday, May 23, 2017

WORD

         Word

        
The pain of not to know
a words true meaning -
(a heartfelt paradox
so tautologically entwined)

brain travels inscapes
of the mind

the universe declaims
I AM - the exocentric
altar. Delving
through layers of time

exploring a fresh terrain -
we dream of worlds
where words were not yet

known. We fail to understand.


Seeking our solace
in links with primal man -
we feel the air vibrate

with all our fears,
and through the storm
we hear the voice that tears
at our discretion.

All is, and nought eludes
our sense, each particle
is new, and each the wholeness.

Then vision fades.



Unable to untie
our deepest fears,
from realms of theory,

we seek salvation
in vacuity -

unable to unite
the reasons for this life
with joy in living

we yearn for sunlight
to dissipate the gloom -
at each encounter
ache for renewed creation.

The phase explodes -

gone is all sense
and reason yields
to circumstance.


Our reminiscence magnifies
the mis-spent days -
heroic sacrifice
now reeks of self-abuse.

Our word-linked knowledge
looks to primal man -

speaking of worlds
where words were not yet known -

no matter how we squirm
we fail to understand

that words
are still the master
of the man.


                      
                              Malcolm Evison 

Thursday, April 27, 2017

dis-ease is everywhere - a new illustrated poem

this is fresh off the press - both the poem and the illustrated version here were sculpted this very day!

this poem is straight off the press - one of those rare occasions when the words gave themselves in a relatively short space of time. Expressing my current state of discomfort and dis-ease in some ways enables me to cope better with this frustrating ailment (moderate ME - myalgic encephalomyelitis)



Monday, March 27, 2017

Going Home - in memoriam

This poem has been posted previously on this blog, but not in this (imaged) form - as yesterday was Mothering Sunday / Mother's Day I felt it appropriate to share


Friday, March 24, 2017

Nightscape with Rainfall -- re-post

Nightscape with Rainfall


The rudiments of fear
trace each step;
the hollow echoes
dampered by the rain.

Haunted by absences -
the lack
of any company
to take the chill away -

a sudden surge
of cowardice betrays
his vanity.

The rudiments of fear
trace each step,
the hollow echo
silenced by the rain.

The last bedraggled remnant
of false pride
lies submerged
in his timid haste.



                       Malcolm Evison