PICKINGS

Poetry from NHI publications

STILLBORN (for kris and pete in the wilderness)
now you are balanced on either end of a straw beneath you lies nothing or everything you cannot move forward, you have reached the walls you made for yourselves and now must climb them. catalyst.......... now we are falling into a dream there is nothing for any of us but walls walls walls and more walls and now comes the green monster chasing snarling, breathing fire and literature and values and standards for consumption by acceptance by belief in the scene and the anti-scene. now we are balanced on a straw beneath us lies nothing and everything we are all up against walls climbing, climbing up towards the next straw. observation.......... the one disinterested finger unenclosed and aimless plays with buttons, a button the button ouryourtheir button and the standards that are like walls shake us off and we are rubble, nothing or everything. conclusion.......... now we are without balance, without walls and without straws, we are balanced at either end of ourselves while you sit, mumbling and groping in a darkness occupied by words.
STEWART BROWN

STILLBORN
(for kris and pete in the wilderness)

now you are balanced on either end of a straw

beneath you lies nothing or everything
you cannot move forward, you have reached
the walls you made for yourselves and now must climb them.

catalyst..........
                  now we are falling into a dream
                  there is nothing for any of us
                  but walls walls walls and more walls
                  and now comes the green monster
                  chasing snarling, breathing fire
                  and literature and values and standards
                  for consumption by
                  acceptance by
                  belief in
                  the scene and the anti-scene.

now we are balanced on a straw

beneath us lies nothing and everything
we are all up against walls
climbing, climbing up towards the next straw.

observation..........
                  the one disinterested finger
                  unenclosed and aimless
                  plays with buttons,
                  a button
                  the button
                  ouryourtheir button
                  and the standards that are like walls
                  shake us off and we are rubble,
                  nothing or everything.

conclusion..........
now we are without balance, without walls
and without straws,
we are balanced at either end of ourselves
while you sit, mumbling and groping
in a darkness occupied by words.

STEWART BROWN

from
The Hallamshire & Osgoldcross Poetry Express #3

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This page last updated: 21st May 2006.