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Before I turn away

I'd like to say a few written words
looped and malformed as they are
marooned on the page

illegible, they run to indelible
tangle on the tongue, then tangible

they can't be taken back now, undone-
soon I will go to the page and learn forms
and discipline new,

and tried and tied nomenclature of
nominated sages in ages
where everyone grew

and I will till the form like loam soil
and in the proper way - do,
or so I am told

I will surrender then this voice of old
forgetful crystal moth - golden mouthed

bad mouthing forms no more, readily tossed
and so shall depart these literary shores
and return un-barred, so they say

But- before I go, let me give you this room:
Gaze up and sip the soft libation cups
of light

pouring up to my midnight ceiling, quiet
in their light revealing
the glorious sheen of brass and chain

they gain a hold of this dome of a room
and hold me in a light inflection
of gravity

I become you become me, a balloon
to lift us into
the nocturnal serenity

gaze now at the indiscrete green
lit curtains, theatrical in their
folds down there

bold as colonies of old,
temple walls holding in the night's magic
in which, all who still dream, believe

is held in there, suffusing the air
decanting night through a

like a mystery, gently held at bay
if only beyond the door

feel now, the soft luxuriant stucco
underfoot- of thick pile rugs massage
your exploring toe

and breathe in the wool and the clean
the cotton, the serene, let the touch
auger a pulse of senses in your soul

cat-like kneading at the Mother milking room
you'll never want
to leave

needing to feel its stillness fill your
finality, close your eyes, the slow
rhythmic hum from the kitchen

laundry rattle and tick hypnotic in
the mind’s eye, familiarity
in domestic normalcy

a House, breathing as it does,
faithfully- each night, as we slumber
and our senses ebb away

this is You now: slow breathing
on a soft couch, book in hand
and inner mind landscapes of life

cherish this normality as you hear
the night winds howl around the house,
and the distant lost- curse

you could be worse, sleeping some pain
far from here, where
the means justifies the end

but now, we're near: it's time to
move on and find a different world
in words out there

wherever You are, I've come this far alone,
maybe now these woods, dark and deep
would be lovely to roam.

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I appreciate moderate constructive criticism
Last few words: 
Change is always a good thing, as is time sitting quietly absorbing wherever you are - hope this makes sense.
Editing stage: 


I want to delve into why...other then I can follow the
words shunted together like a mixed train...
the passenger.....the it lorry or stage
wherever you are....Like the comment line....I sat beside
people...near them
perhaps we liked each other greatly but a million miles

like how you feel its roaming time and
in my world as poet persona...
im ready to come in from the metaphor wilds

might be back to throw in more of what I like
about this.....sending this off at moment

thank U

I didnt know where they were then..some of them lovers
everyone off on their adventures now....some I write
but most I have no direct exchange though I think the
letters roll through...

I like the examination of the house

sixties the american poets were looking outside
in....Like Hooper paintings...Morrison and band
running into the Morrison Hotel...they asked
and were told they couldnt shoot the photo
so they ran in when no one was paying attention

wyeth with his woman in the grass looking up
to the hill...the old gothic structure
Plathh as a good poem too similar to this

Hey Esker - I will reply to this properly when I get away from the grey carnage that is work. Will be 15 hours ahead of you, almost one monumental rotation 'bout this axis we cling!

Glad you liked the room - I did too.

Chris Hall - Tasmania

Grossbooted draymen rolled barrels dullthudding out of Prince's stores and bumped them up on the brewery float. On the brewery float bumped dullthudding barrels rolled by grossbooted draymen out of Prince's stores.

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