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Tuesday 18 March 2014

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


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

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


-it gathers still

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

bone in blood


blinded by pulse and the
regalia of

carried forth

in momentum’s quarry

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

nocturne of bleached lime

the raw machinery of absences




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

To stand-for-no-one-and-nothing.
For you

With all there is room for in that,
Even without

--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




glove /unglove(d)
button / - hook

hand touches iron / something like stone is met

/ unaccountable



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

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)

beneath the pupil’s cataract of night’s align

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


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



iron separate

speech onto speech
a blossom-extrusion

            from hollow(ing) metal

wordless as molten
ash unto blessed
            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

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)



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
into naught
till bite of foreign skyline’s shadowing
its slow metamorphosis from

edge to edge of. a tear(ing)

is a falling-through
a snap-to

body as gateway /
it already has the fibres

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

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

light’s claim
an outplay.
the searing moment

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