O Rain La Rain: Munayem Mayenin

The Bonsai Supernova of Horses

( For Hibiscus Rosa Chinensis)

The barbecue smell roamed upward
Through the afternoon’s yellow gold
Muslin flows photon-fibre spread-on
Falling over the hill’s down-hill dance
A spring of lights a velvet green waltz
Minted gold rising as it ran as it sang

Walking up the hill in aqua-light feet
I stood and looked back at the valley
Where the lights had shone him out
Ted Hughes afternoon in Sevenoaks
Mute I stood in a silentine-spell Ted
Was I suddenly a miracle magnetism

Was he there on the hill or there in the
Valley’s broad I did not know nor did
I see but his viewscape were my eyes
Borrowed I was to look and drink on
And there they were the velvet black
Fire of the lights of silence the horses

O how they stood in line in burning
Lights in exploding silence blooming
The motion-static oxymoron there they
Bathed in fiery-fire-light waterfall of
Poetry of dark in monsoon of lights in
Silence in solemn seek ee reach ee touch

A line of horses with their petal-manes
Tall as dark hills on tall raised pillars of
Earth they looked up o in their eyes the
Universe ocean-danced fire fire fire fire
Poetry of soul in the delicacy of lights
The green-fire beneath their feet ee the

Mint green smoke rising in the mist of
Summer-vine-space where lights were
Seeds of only flowing strands of horse
Hairs blazing on an ablazing of only of
Magnetism mesmerising solemn gold
O how the Ted Hughes Horses stood

I cupped them onto my being as they
Stood unhurried creatures of awe and
I carried them up the hill in the space
Of my soul as a bonsai supernova live
Living and breathing through my skin
I give you my imisian horses ablazing

A Statement of Arealism

For the Young Poet who wanted to know what arealism meant

Arealism where life signs on its
Wholeness way beyond-reach of
Market-god’s manipulations and
Sings a bubble-bloom-humanity
Momentary rises and falls eternal

No to sewaging on of words
No to stinking the air and breaking the strings of the guitar
No to nasties and the revoltines run sacking the church spires
No no no to the nauseating sewaging on of sacred of words words

A refusal to clay out fake golds
That glitter a stinking con only
An acceptance to sing out songs
That write you onto the winds
Areal is where life comes to sing

Yes to restore words into the garden
Where they only bloom spring-song fragrances
Yes to write a poem in a handshake onto the being’s clay of the other
Being a poem in turn in own clay mirroring humanity’s Himalaya on

A joyous manifestation of motion
Of one’s expressive flows like the
Ocean rising towards the earth or
The moon peeking out the silver
The window the wind the ringing

No to brickening up no to stagnating and dying of the river of us
No to the hard shelling of us cemented onto the pavement slabs
No no no to the destructions of greeds and fears of the market-god
No no no to the nastification of the human bodies minds and souls

A refusal to be dismissed by the
Market-god a war against being
A figurine toy being displayed out
Onto the revolting plates of stalls
Where they butter out utter stinks

Yes to all our senses abounded like the space around flowers
Yes to our hearts opening to understand the miracles of its waving motion
Yes to be an empty slate to the other to write a poem new in anew tongue
Yes yes yes to the smiles that break our souls into splinters of mad joys

A celebration of human blooms
In words in smiles in touch and
Senses and the hearts and heads
All a lake a sky a beach and the
Sea and the winds and motion

No to the negation of us no to the annihilation of our shapes
No to the rocking up no to the nailing up onto the gutter and
Surely and definitely no no no to the tearing apart of our connections
No no no to the systems and systematisation of our dreams and songs

A refusal to taught out sewaging
On of words of becoming mean
Beasts and uglified skunks and
Brutalites and bigots and bricks
A blooming on of the song alone

Yes to be child-like dream like and good like like a copying of
God who speaks to us through all and nothing in every entity’s shape
Yes to be the violin the cello the piano the base the flute the clarinet the oboe
In the Symphony playing own part being alone and together a joyous ocean

Arealism where sacred of life
Sings in magnanimous shapes
Our joys-rises and seeks and our
Dreams of our hearts and heads
Together a symphony of lights

Yes to celebrate your smiles that electromagnetically paint my heart
Yes to write epics about the beauty spot islands on your scarlet face
Yes to arias of your touches and sonatas of your reaches and fragrances
Yes to beyond-precedent heat of your love its lights eternally holding us on

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