Coyopa :: Lightning in the Blood » Poetry http://create.coyopa.net wordspells and phantsmagorical forms by tom hirons Tue, 13 Sep 2011 19:05:05 +0000 en hourly 1 http://wordpress.org/?v=3.2.1 On wooing the poem. A beginner’s guide… http://create.coyopa.net/prose/on-wooing-the-poem-a-beginners-guide/ http://create.coyopa.net/prose/on-wooing-the-poem-a-beginners-guide/#comments Wed, 07 Sep 2011 19:28:44 +0000 Tom http://create.coyopa.net/?p=301 Coyopa blogspot... This new post is non-fiction. I write about how yesterday's poem came into being. There are pictures and writing and all. It's quite a scene. If I were you, I'd get over there right now and follow the action... (Do you see the trend yet? Here's a hint: soon this site will]]> Two days, two posts!
It’s all happening over at the Coyopa blogspot…

This new post is non-fiction. I write about how yesterday’s poem came into being. There are pictures and writing and all. It’s quite a scene. If I were you, I’d get over there right now and follow the action…

(Do you see the trend yet? Here’s a hint: soon this site will be something completely different. Make sure you’re not caught out in the rain.)

]]> http://create.coyopa.net/prose/on-wooing-the-poem-a-beginners-guide/feed/ 0 New poetry on the blog… http://create.coyopa.net/poetry/new-poetry-on-the-blog/ http://create.coyopa.net/poetry/new-poetry-on-the-blog/#comments Sun, 28 Aug 2011 19:48:02 +0000 Tom http://create.coyopa.net/?p=294 the other blog :: Sometimes a Wild God Visits. Do go and read it, then subscribe to the blog, or follow, and comment :) (This Coyopa site will self-destruct in a matter of months and rise from the flames anew. Over and out.)]]> Heads up. I’ve just posted new poetry over at: the other blog :: Sometimes a Wild God Visits. Do go and read it, then subscribe to the blog, or follow, and comment :) (This Coyopa site will self-destruct in a matter of months and rise from the flames anew. Over and out.)

]]> http://create.coyopa.net/poetry/new-poetry-on-the-blog/feed/ 0 Milk and Stars http://create.coyopa.net/poetry/milk-and-stars/ http://create.coyopa.net/poetry/milk-and-stars/#comments Thu, 16 Sep 2010 15:40:14 +0000 Tom http://create.coyopa.net/?p=178 I forget.
I remember and forget
and remember again.

One day,
When all the mystique of idiocy
Has rubbed off life
Like gold lacquer from oak,
I’ll forget so wholeheartedly
(Or remember so completely)
That I will forget to not dance
And remember my home
Beyond memory and forgetting
- the place where you are waiting
With your hands of milk and stars.

I know you are waiting there,
But I’m too fascinated still
By the twisted mirrors in this hall.
I know the sun is shining where you wait
And the air is sweet as only
Coming home can be.

One day, I will go towards there,
But, I will not be there to arrive.
Only my dancing:
The footsteps of fire on water,
The everlasting bird that flies through the Earth.

]]> http://create.coyopa.net/poetry/milk-and-stars/feed/ 5 The Wild Breath http://create.coyopa.net/poetry/the-wild-breath/ http://create.coyopa.net/poetry/the-wild-breath/#comments Sun, 14 Feb 2010 22:18:40 +0000 Tom http://create.coyopa.net/?p=109 Today, the earth began exhaling.
All Winter, it held its breath,
Kept its fragrance to itself,
Held itself so tight, I could feel its ribs ache.
But, today, the earth began to smell again.

What had been locked in its chest
Began to push back out at the world today.
Soon, primroses and garlic will follow that
Path of life’s breath into sunlight;
Now, it is simply the shifting, vital moment
Between the inhaling and
Exhaling of the Earth.

The fingers of Winter loosened today;
That tight hand will become Summer’s palm
Where all of Life dances:
Myself and you and us and them
And all tomorrow’s children.

                Somewhere, in the centre of the Earth,
                A spark leaps to the hibernating heart
                And beneath the blackened leaves of Winter,
                That great, essential drum resounds.

Today, the earth began to smell again.
The sap turned around; life turned towards life.
The body of this great, wild woman,
This land that grows through my feet,
Shifted in her sleep and sighed.
She whispered something unmistakable.
Everybody heard.
The trees and rocks and the wild birds and me:
All Winter we were waiting
And, today, the earth began exhaling.

]]> http://create.coyopa.net/poetry/the-wild-breath/feed/ 11 Love and the Sparrow http://create.coyopa.net/poetry/love-and-the-sparrow/ http://create.coyopa.net/poetry/love-and-the-sparrow/#comments Tue, 13 May 2008 21:51:01 +0000 Tom http://create.coyopa.net/?p=12 Who am I to speak of Love?
Every word I have ever said
Was untrue;
Whatever I thought,
Was wrong.
Each time I make a shape for it,
The shape is wrong;
Always too small, or too wide.
Incomplete,
Or too complete.
Love resists the corale of reasoning,
Infinitely Wild,
Endlessly Free.

Everything I have ever held of it
Was a handful of dust.
To say, “I love you…”
Is to slay integrity,
Though I will always say it.

But, look;
I will step from the Earth to a star;
I will reach my hand
Down into the rich soil
And pull up a precious root;
I will fold you in my impossible wings.
I will bleed for you
So that my blood can nourish you;
I will stand guard,
Though the enemy flattens me
Again and again.
I will endeavour to become this thing
About which I can no longer speak.
My words have run too thick with
Beautiful lies.
Love was not there;
Quicksilver; dazzling reflections;
The cunning refraction of Heaven…
But not love.
It was there, but quietly.
Making a nest in your heart.

Love is not a bridge made of good intentions;
Love is the sparrow,
The dull bird
That goes unnoticed, here and there;
It is the Wren, the Robin, the brown Finch;
While I was speaking about love,
Love was gathering sticks and straw,
Nesting in the silence,
The humble rest between words of splendour.

Who am I to speak of Love?
I can make Eagles,
Condors,
Cranes and Flamingos;
I can show you the Phoenix,
The Garuda,
Magnificent birds of fire and glory;
Do not listen to the words,
But see if a tiny bird
Is growing closer to you.
If it nests in your heart,
Thank God, or the Goddess,
Not me.
I was not there:
I was climbing mountains
And splitting the world,
Keeping grandeur occupied
So that love might have a chance to know you.

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