A speck of agitation is Self –
\nMoulded by atoms and deformed
\nBy abstract hope –
\nStillness?
\nCan it be gathered
\nDoes its harvest yield, nourish
\nThe discontent of argument?
\nThoughts nearly always
\nRemain young even as the
\nWithered lips smile
\nThe thoughtful idea is beauty – not age.<\/p>\n
Being part of the spinning top
\nMyself and other selves
\nAre giddy with a sickness cast from space
\nThat speeds hours born of clocks
\nAs life is born when Time beckons –
\nNot the philosophers\u2019s time, that may or may not exist
\nOr the poet\u2019s time that dances and reclines
\nIn tune to line or rhyme
\nOr the prisoner\u2019s time that marks off years
\nSlowly like a draught of poison from
\nA dank green bottle that doesn\u2019t kill,
\nWhen drunk destroys the soul
\nJust as the time of the damned is endless
\nOr the time of the blessed is restless even in paradise –<\/p>\n
This space-time
\nThis spinning top Time
\nBeckons and then quickens
\nAnd then grows like children
\nToo fast for the strength
\nEver to regain its first health –
\nNo Galileo is needed
\nTo declare this star valid
\nThe spinning top is its own
\nWindmill –
\nJust as myself makes claim
\nOnly to pains felt –
\nGiving a sympathy for yours,
\nThis star is master and mistress
\nOf the universe because nothing else
\nHas yet bettered it –
\nA mere spin-off from a too hot sun
\nA spinning globe of mystery
\nProbably doomed sooner or later –
\nThe atoms seek revenge,
\nEither with great bangs and mushrooms
\nMade of fire or by a coldness called
\nThe end –<\/p>\n
Victory, brilliant and displayed like
\nThe triumph of a battle shines
\nFrom the stars –
\nFollow us spinning top –
\nWe have raged the black nothingness
\nOf light years dark without peace
\nTo shine and sparkle and tempt
\nTo glitter –
\nYet we are dull – even dead –
\nLeaden dreams to your beautiful face –
\nAll human matter contains in fragment
\nA piece of star-life – all selves
\nJoined together forever by objects
\nStill in their essence clinging to space –
\nMonopolised by a hazardous beginning
\nMaking each self an island difficult
\nTo reach, formed from a distant star
\nWhose energy is finished but whose
\nVenture within us continues to breathe –<\/p>\n
Rimbaud\u2019s \u2018black and white moons\u2019
\nFloat and drift like balloons –
\nUntil pricked by rays that scatter their
\nPieces hither and thither through space-time
\nWhere they shine everlasting pictures –
\nThe spinning top holds star-history
\nWithin rocks, within patterns of tree-wood
\nWithin humanity\u2019s dreams of heaven –
\nMoving outwards, onward with
\nTerrible storms –
\nYet always still within itself –
\nThe known spinning top
\nGathers speed – going where?
\nWhilst seas reflect space moods
\nAs skies strike thunder at blue waves
\nAnd space-caves become filled with
\nA strange yet silent promise –<\/p>\n
Were there perhaps foul stars
\nWith gases evil, a core of badness
\nSwirling amid storms so terrible
\nThat no imagination can touch their might
\nOnly a grim mythology of giants, star-gods
\nAnd blood rimmed eyes can paint the
\nSunrise of a diseased beginning –
\nAnd gentle perfect stars – perhaps
\nFalling, ever falling from a healthy sun
\nWhich shines silver behind the moon\u2019s back
\nAnd laughing like pretty children laugh
\nAt play as the spinning top experienced day
\nThen night – onward in space –
\nYet seeming still –
\nThe moving clouds, the rain showers –
\nAnd somewhere the desert sand –
\nSo quick to tempest – so hard to understand –
\nEver forward accurately passing
\nThe shadowy black-holes which suck
\nAll heaven\u2019s waste in
\nOne absurd mouthful –
\nInto everlasting darkness –<\/p>\n
Applied logic or controlled madness –
\nEven perhaps a feeble joke –
\nThe spinning top gives its clues with care
\nThe initiate\u2019s books tell of their theories –
\nOf dark beginnings, of matter going this way
\nOr that, of great lumps falling, joining,
\nBreaking up – of it all being strung together
\nLike balls of string.
\nOr chaos.
\nForever.
\nFreezing, dark –<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Sh\u00e4nne Sands.<\/p>\n
From the selection Fragments of Desire.<\/p>\n
FootSteps Press.<\/p>\n
#shannesands<\/p>\n
#fragmentsofdesire<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
A speck of agitation is Self – Moulded by atoms and deformed By abstract hope – Stillness? Can it be gathered Does its harvest yield, nourish The discontent of argument? Thoughts nearly always Remain young even as the Withered lips smile The thoughtful idea is beauty – not age. Being part of the spinning top…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[2],"tags":[902,650],"class_list":["post-2535","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-poetry","tag-fragments-of-desire","tag-shanne-sands"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/daniel.footstepsbooks.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2535","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/daniel.footstepsbooks.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/daniel.footstepsbooks.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/daniel.footstepsbooks.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/daniel.footstepsbooks.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2535"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/daniel.footstepsbooks.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2535\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2536,"href":"https:\/\/daniel.footstepsbooks.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2535\/revisions\/2536"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/daniel.footstepsbooks.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2535"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/daniel.footstepsbooks.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2535"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/daniel.footstepsbooks.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2535"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}