From 'Of Silent Parameters' - Christine Murray/ Michael Mc Aloran

#1
 
if there are birds here
then they are of stone


draughts of birds
flesh bone wing
claw in grass


collective eye shears
lung ashen
subtle as eclipse


a mercury sun breath
severed/ obsolete
night’s-claim-snap


while day
not day but light
cast from (...)


surely light would retain in
silica's cast or flaw


till knock of blood from which
or laughter of


burnt time
lessened the deathed
feathers of------------bind


in overlay
of silenced


- bind
to staunch the blood/rush


welled now pool
hand held to the
wrist

 
-it gathers still

(-)ness
of the parched redeem


flight from blind winds
echoes to stun


the trace’s lack


groaning wings
of the ever after


and here
claw in grass


surface-wet
bone in blood

seamed


blinded by pulse and the
regalia of


subtle-deft-winds
carried forth


in momentum’s quarry
abounding


stone struck iron
outside the perimeter of


not wanton gargoyle nor eagle there
they are of-one-piece


seamed to


by sinew of none
collapsed the blind signature
till scope of


sky-burst/
nocturne of bleached lime


the raw machinery of absences
                                                     

--

#6-

‘To stand in the shadow
Of the scar up in the air.

To stand-for-no-one-and-nothing.
Unrecognized,
For you
Alone.

With all there is room for in that,
Even without
Language.’
 
--Paul Celan.
 

stasis aglow harbours the scarred light’s cleft


the hour’s locked tombs
(here or there/
a spun lapse tidal glisten-edge)


amber nothing weights the fleshed reprisal


alone the ash
stone voices of the redeem


in circus
aftermath of carousel’s ignited blood


and walk the circle of it


stalk the open ring
not ring  but waystation


those others speak him out of chrysalis


it is voice brings us alive
an unearthing of -


wrenched scarlet wings of stray till touch
all spun together/ as of


silently the lock of jaw the spurious eclipse
(I look to the unlock of iced black hands


in the dreaming of the night’s veranda
a closed fist of dreaming
stillness till break-birth-knowing…)


hands bound by feathers
red-wings of a difficult birthing
warm though, that blood on hands
that are bound-not-bound


the gash, female-d,
the silks/integuments (of low tones)
but a birthing of nonetheless from voice


(stillness of reason to breach…)


till locked/ still from out of mercury atoned
spit of the lack


pulse of the blackened arbour/ fleshed/ abounding
at the hilt of nowhere less, the murmurs of


from out of which


till silenced less or-more-or-less/
a-skylight/ crumbling alabaster


these walls cylindrical
taste of the benign dusts of fleshed accord

--

#12
 
babel


glove /unglove(d)
button / - hook


hand touches iron / something like stone is met


/ unaccountable
                            

--
               
#13
 
‘wind tomb
river tomb

my death fakes my voice
which can only reach

to the ache of teeth

little flower
little ear you know
to what point
I am afraid of shit.’

--Georges Bataille


ice/ vascular
till hilt of streaming else spoken echo


the drags pelts the stone wall gait of bone’s tryst
collective


the hard scar births the ocular’s derision
river of none


and the death which only fakes the sun’s cracked yolk
walls/ wombs/ distances


of -


a star strangled in the reaches of a tree
capilliary of branches and the music is wooden
rattle of branch


to branch
green yet budded yet

' under the greenwood tree'


black yet the only moon is the new moon
settled in the arc of breath


one stone
more to follow


tooth against tooth (he said)
yet


beneath the pupil’s cataract of night’s align


this is the blood of else
twice the price of the twice starred


unlock(ed)


singed
hair /feather/fur-or the-smoke-smell


rises up,


it is not a burning.
it is a star (or stars) caught into a branch,
(of blue / of ice-)


it is only sulphur-singe ( a street-light) / eye-caught / eye-wavered
it is a hollow-song / a wind-song double-reed-trembling

                
--

#22-
 
iron separate


speech onto speech
a blossom-extrusion


            from hollow(ing) metal


wordless as molten
ash unto blessed
chunk-stun-light
shimmering/
            one or the other


razor steel and the echo(ing) of
speech unto speech erased


and not -
shimmering with/
molten-tree is an architrave for birds
metal-as


it gathers coil-in
(with light... maybe)
even the gnarled corridors of
are blossomed out


the stun’s relapse sears
subtle/ absolute/ hollow(ing)
till trace metallic
        (metallic breathe of echo-fold-echo-silent)



the light’s regress
iron death of the spun alack a-grip
flight forever mast/ taken of wind(age)


--


#32

‘Murky passages flow
From our eyelashes down our faces

With a fierce red-hot wire
Anger hems up our thoughts

Scissors with raised heckles
Around our unarmed words

The venomous rain of eternity
Bites us greedily’

--Vasko Popa


drained light
fettered by winds
a clean bite masks the uncertain eye’s revolt
skin(ned) till task
the rib-cage echoing of glib desire
raging
into naught
till bite of foreign skyline’s shadowing
its slow metamorphosis from

to
edge to edge of. a tear(ing)

is a falling-through
a snap-to


body as gateway /
waystation
it already has the fibres
(of)


the spun fleshed light of regalia unsung
a clear edge
sudden lash of what will(ow) sudden
the rib-cage echoes through the pissoir
night


breath upon breath and the lapse of/
accorded/ (recorded…)
murmurs yes
from drought of eye


light’s claim
an outplay.
the searing moment
the
elastic-snap
back


derangement of form
passes whitely into
chrysalis of
blind heat in solace breath
scattered soil upon white flesh in accord meld
severed the non-breath death forgotten