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Munayem Mayenin

Poet in Residence at Southwark Libraries since 2005

Live the Tiny Brilliance

 

Sonnets for Pompey

23 The North and South

When I find disconnections strangling my neck
I look at this flat map of United Kingdom and I
See a dragon sitting up looking back to see the
Sky for the horizon to decipher hopes or heaps

Of Celtic myths of gold or coral rise of colours
And I wish to stand at the middle of this map
And get the dragon’s top in Castle Town in the
North and St Just in the south making a wheel

Where space is eaten away forming a kiss south
And north over my head and I am inside this ring
Rolling downhill to the ocean the southern ocean

Where Pompey my Pompey is drinking silence
From the cup of the sky and I rain onto her cup
And the map is lost in this water-fall connection

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22. My Edenium

She was my pebble-chapel I made as my
Sistine Chapel in the ceiling of my dreams
She was my Elephant and Castle and Bow
Belle where I looked for her on a weekday

Afternoon where silence was singing God
And I was just listening out for my Pompey
I always sung her anew in my own white
Notes in my own grey books in my own

Purple clay in my own lilac love I forever
Called her shape into play and I played in
Sure silence this universe where beauty is

The beginning and the end of the beginning
Some lights some awesome shifting of shifts
Pompey is my journey’s home my Edenium

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21 Her I could See as Me

I was on Leigh on Sea and bought cardigans
For my mother from a Mrs Gee and at the
Silent unused pier in the winter I talked to
My Pompey for she was always my ocean

Flowing towards me and I was always there
Listening in all the time’s open and hidden
Brooks where she was singing in like the
Sky in greyed out winter when you ought

To have lights of your own to see and I had
Mine for Pompey was my light-house in the
Grey mist of the day where I was an island

Floating away like the iris of Pompey’s eyes
She was the light of my blind being for I was
Blind to all but her I could forever see as me

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20. I Heard Her Calling

All I had was these chemistry calling on
All I had was this genome of sings and
Symbols of ideas and dreams all shapes
And songs raising her in me raising her

Like the day raises the hands of the time
In the body of the shadow and it lingers
Lengthens as is rotates and my Pompey
Was my shadow I was her shape and she

Was my shape and I was her shadow and
The time saw us in like the way it saws the
The moon and the sea and there can only

Be rising waves and weaving songs in the
Serene night-firefly-southern heating up
Pompey is my southern ocean rising high

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19 Evening’s Melancholy

The yellow bee or the pollen whatever is
Near my Pompey is the blending of both
In such a one she is my bee and the yellow
And I am now all stuck in both as space is

Stuck with time and I am now blooming
In hurt and pain and cry and yet I flow on
For she is my motion’s reach and rise and
I can only break singing her reach and raw

On this boat this ship this rising Vesuvius
For there is no notion of her or I that could
Call anything but the other and here I sing

My sorrow’s joys just to call her even if the
Evening’s melancholy breaks our campfire
Bed we still are stuck as bed and mattress
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18. My Pompey Rising to Wind

I heard her southern mermaid calls beyond
The logical reach for she was the sun and I
Was not yet invented Makemake plutoid at
The very edge of our little village where the

Sun singularly sojourns all motion like the
Flower-buds of possibilities and keep all in
Perpetual a love of pure pulls of magnetism
The gravitational kiss carries on holding on

My Pompey ate away all the feet of the meter
Of all these seas and oceans and now there is
Only an ocean rising and a beach breathing in

And a breathtaking song in wet and hot dry
Wake up here now the time is the flute and
My Pompey is the conductor rising to wind
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17. Pompey Makes Music

Pompey sings and I can hear her songs
Over ether’s silence surfing plateau for
For she is the dwelling serendipity of my
Dreams and all her chirping note-eggs all

Hatch in my dreams and I unfailingly tend
To these softly subtle things that grow like
Image-puddles on the rose petals holding
Water as mirror for the sun to draw supple

Pieces of works Pompey is the word of my
Heart and hurt of the word for each word
Is a piercing in my soul that brings joys out

Like I am the date-plant becoming only to
Become a flowing nectarine song is my lot
For my Pompey is my orange orange bee
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16. Pompey is the Timean Rose

Pompey sings the morning like the sunlights
Sings it in the silver sparkle fire of the night’s
Dew-milk over the wet green faces of grass and
I stand there wet her silver eyes looking into me

Binging out all that is gold inside and I forget
Where to look for she is the beauty’s mercury
She is the silver of the moon for she is the day
Of the moment and the dawn of timean rose

My Pompey is the song I heard in beneath the
Spread of the upside down turquoise ocean of
The sky flowing eternity’s honey over the line

Of the horizon forming her southern smile she
Is the delight of the light and its flowing form
Where she is the river-bed where lights run on

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15. Pompey is My Statue of Liberty

Pompey is my statue of liberty living and
Dancing in my eyes when looking over the
Waters wild eastern her eyes glow a hue
Of eternal beauty’s flame and I breathe her

In every of my breath as though she was
My oxygen-brook and she flows through
The valleys of my soul and when she does
Not speak I am all over the beach a dry dry

Sandcastle forming a siliconite utter disarray
And when she does my soul becomes one
Again for she is the magic honey-water for

My being’s wet and glistening dark brown
Sandcastle and I let her feet mark my soul’s
Simple design with her soul’s beauty-shape

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14. My Pompey Motion’s Wild-Gold Child

Pompey is my heron flying home to roost
Bringing magic hats over the risen moors
Green lands and lanes and meadows and
Shadows of good old St John’s peace she

Is the home of the old pearl and new she
Is my Ithaca-dream she walks my mother’s
Dog and lets him drink at a beautiful brook
Where people only know how to love a dog

Here I sing my Pompey and this Kayak for
She is my Kayak on the southern rivers or
My catamaran in the southern sea and when

The wind riches her hair she is the motion’s
Wild-gold child and her hair floats in the air
Like the fountain of my soul and oh her eyes
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13. Pompey is My Ravenna Cosmography

Pompey is my bay that I call her-bay and she
Is my point which I call her-point for she is
Allwhere wearing the smile of the impossible
Dream flowing over the landscape of words

That I make to bake her cakes of sounds and
Images of terrain unknown for she is my all
She is the centre of the south end of the land
Or beginning of waters foaming combing rise

Pompey is my humanics Pompey is my rising
Ravenna Cosmography tying in the Universe
Like waves tie the sea and she is no bird but

She knows my yellow bird and her songs and
One day she will saw in all the birdsongs into
A knitted sonar ocean and put it on me melting

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12. Pompey My Steel-Cleave

My Eden Park is my Pompey where she knits
My steel-cleave with which I am a phoenix in
What I believe in Pompey is my beauty’s silk
Mill my light-brook she is my lake by the land

Pompey is my south north east and west down
Or up middle or low Pompey has always been
My flower of bloom flour of my bake floor of
The mattress of my soul or I am hers on each

Other’s shore we are the light and dark ocean
And beach forming better a project than Eden
Project or Copper Rver for Pompey is my flow

Pompey is my 4th July when she looks east and
She is my eternal Celt speaking fluent Cornovii
Of my soul and even if I break I break as gold

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11. My Pompey My Gold

My Pompey wears me as her skin and I wear
Her fragrance in my breath for she is the wind
That comes to reach me bringing eternity’s gifts
She is my open wide in wonder she is my joys

Multiplied by her smile and she is the finds and
The files of my archaeological diggings and the
Risk of getting lost and finding the bearing she
Is my relative density’s mark she is the measure

Of my worth and she is the reason for my being
And its bloom all its measured and unmeasured
Treasures are crafted in the solid heat-fire of her

Smile both in her lips and her eyes for my Pompey
Is Prometheus’ seek and Orpheus’ reach for she is
My gold in every colour and every shade. Pompey!
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10. My Pompey the Voice of the Moon

My Pompey speaks French and bells in the
Time in the Meurthe-et-Moselle where she is
The song and she always rings out the peals
And pearls of the bells and brightens my dark

And lightens my lights and she is my soft-silk
With which I speak a rising tide of imagination
River she is the water of my body she is the dry
Of my sand: My Pompey! My Pompey! My pearl

Of the south of geography the pebble of the east
The emerald of the west and the fire of the north
She is destiny’s call she is destination-home she

Is my metre and marks in the map of my soul and
She is the calls of the nights and the fragrance of the
Earth she is the voice of the moon and the song

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9. My Pompey Always Singing

My Pompey is the flower that had not existed
Before I came around this earth and she found
Me as soon as she came to the south my Pompey
She was in Rome singing Latinum Amorenam

And she rang the rising ripening Ithacan bloom
She waved over the weaving waves of oceans
And seas singing the wings of the nights and the
Rhythm of the rivers in high-tide night song calls

And she crossed the waters and shaping the land
Of Seatle and the free and she ran the whitened
Mountains in the cold north with fire she was in

The Celtic isles and mythical miles milestones
Always calling my colours in the notes of the
Songs of the yellow bird flying eternal wings

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8. My Pompey Everything Is


South is the nest of southern winds
My Pompey is the flowing silk of
Motion’s magnanimous southern
Flow she flows through my soul

Where landscapes unfold disarrayed
Joys unfurling me as they open up
Like lips of roses rosa canina she is
My Pompey my pure pearl of sparks

That light the universe in supernova
Lamping bloom she leaves on scripts
Of blooms wherever she walks she is

She is and she makes me izz to the
Earth to rise to rise to rise to risk to
Actually say: be and everything is
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7. My Pompey My South

The earth is sphered in hemispheres south and north
And my Pompey is the southern hemisphere of my
Soul and she is the beginning of my lights and the
End of their flights my Pompey my silk pyramid of

Lights. And she sings the solid soul of what brings
Weather’s wings and seasons’ ringing runs turns and
Ferns. My Pompey my southern hemisphere home of
My soul that breathes through her spread her spread

She is in the southern oceans and southern crosses of
The paths that lead towards ethereal flowing out of
Unfolding germinations of colours and of shapes for

She is my Pompey my solitude’s serene-skin that covers
My soul here there everywhere my Pompey my crosses
My northern delights my eastern scripts western dusks

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6. My Pompey My Soul’s Southern Seal


Where do I start this steel-flower sonnet
Where do I place her this flower this bloom
This awesome aria of expressive beauty’s
Glistening blue bark this bloom of white

Clouds on the glistening grey mist canvass
Over the southern sea where she rises and
Sings my soul and all she does is rooting me
In deep into her soil: Pompey! My Pompey!

Here she is the southern seal of the living
Lights there she is the soulful moonlit night
Over the bay where I am nothing but the

Mouth of the ocean hungrily open and up
To receive my flowing sonata coming in
Pompey! Pompey! My soul’s southern seal.
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5. This Word

This word
Take her home
Make love
With her like

Darkness
Does to earth
At night
Deep dark

And even
Before you
Woke up

She was the
Pregnant
Dawn

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4. Did he take it up

He said he canna be a happy man
And you said yes he could be if he
Wanted to and yet what did he say
To that did he smile on and take up

This invite to actually rise and seek
The paths and passages that he will
Need to negotiate so to clay out their
Forming straight did he take up this

Challenge that he can be a happy man
Only if he writes its script and he must
Then go and plough the lands and draw

The seeds to plant and water and clear
The weed in the process as he sings the
Notes to help all grow did he take it up
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3. The Rose


In this silence I sing the words
In the notes of thoughts that
Only craft your name a rose
I can call you and this rose

Raises her head softly out of
The rose bush this quiet eye
Of red thickening in velvet
Where I see your shadow’s

Print gently opening a soft
In this silent garden of my
Thoughts where you are the

Rose blooming in my notes
Notes that are my boats on
Which I lay my soul to float
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2. To Izz: I

I write to invite you to sing this verb
For a noun that you will soon learn to
Appreciate for this verb is never spelt
Before but now I do give you this verb

To izz is to love as though without it you
Are a dark black board left in the store
Room still wrapped though dust-painted
To izz is to love as though you are being

Into nothing but the chalk-ink flowing as
You are the river of a luminous flow to izz
Is to be in love without thinking how or

What but neatly knit all that you can call
Of photons and liberate matters of your
Being bloom to let her bloom beautifully

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1. To Izz: II

To izz is to love as though the other-soul has planted itself in yours
To izz is to rise as though the fall is the highest of accolade to come
To izz is to risk and sing songs that you have never sung or sought
To izz is to long as though oxygen has become empty empty empty

And have I have I have I izzed as if it is breath
Have I lived dreaming of izzing as if it is bloom
Have I been doing nothing but izzing as if it is being
Have I ever had the zenith of izzing as if that is the ultimate rise

Have I izzed Is it easy izzing like summer breeze flowing
To izz is not easy not easy not easy not like fish and chips
To izz is to live in a love that rises higher than the full-bare market stalls

To izz is to give in a love that takes nothing less than what it is that is light
To izz is to love to long to sing to bloom in infinite a splendour-pearling out
To izz is to love to love to love to love to long to long to long infinitely on

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