And Not Need Names

And Not Need Names
(after Rilke)

The earthship won’t grow from our insolvent sudoku
Its dream is low-slung, driven underground;
The heart that beats red poetry in front of you
Knows silence as a crown yet to be found,
Yet to be released into the drought-lands
To sift and polish the golden sands.

Cynic eyes scorn the loss of morning
Turn their Janjaweed bitterness inside
In a smoke-gabled mansion of dis-ease,
Victims all of the stag’s yellow footprint
Delicately placed on the brow of the world.

Where exhaustion holds hands with its angel,
Where the tears flow in rainbow smears to
A dusty dead despairing land, soiling and ensouling,
Bringing salty rain to the thirsty husk of human brevity,
Where aching gusts of reiki rage up to scry television,
To fling its digital pulse back into the image-furnace
Back to the formless, nameless trough
The pinched chaetae of the possible
Worming towards ego
In service to heat,
Moistness,
A free
Life.


KH, 29th May 2006