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.

Thursday, June 11, 2020

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      

rediscovered fragment - weft and warp



Weft and warp the winding river
Weaves a sky-glass mirror wide
Where broken reeds in woeful frolic dance

And all of nature is a song field
Happy singing softly low
Hush waves sift across the shallows
Humming pebbles flow

In my mind I know no resting
See the country torment side
Burdened down with woeful pity
Watching sorrow crease their smiles

In the heaving night I lie awake
I lie awake and think of green of day
When I with you through fields will wander
Our love we must not squander away

Away dull cares and lift the heavy shield
That guards my ears and eyes
I want to live, to breathe, to love
Far from my captive sighs



Malcolm Evison

(a rediscovered fragment of a poem I was working on circa 1966 – no prize for guessing the poet to whom it was indebted)