Sunday, July 29, 2012

A Poem by Olly Peel

I See I Have Been Removed
It is strange how the wind took my words
From the Engadin – its glassy Sils
Where, I swear, I saw my name
Inscribed for a time –
Somewhat higher
In its beginning,
And danced me down
The shaded Val Fex (where lesser
Runs to greater)
To move, finally, amongst your darkening sense
I sign, I take account,
But am mistaken by my auditor,
Significantly so;
I respond – you rise up –
And leave the room,
Caring little for raised words
That valley comes to me again –
It and I are the thing –
Perceived much
And Set within a frame
I cannot go again –
Twice to speak the same –
And call you back;
I try, but I hear in my voice
A voice unascribed
So I have called myself to your dock;
Here I sit, waiting not on judgement,
But on consequence;
I hear – I pronounce –
Orphan, you have hated your father
Wrongly: his intentions were only good;
So, sojourner, go and live among them –
See what they will say of you
I found her discursive this afternoon;
I wish she would find her point,
But often I find her elsewhere
(And I with her: I am rarely where I am)
Do not tell me I fell because of ambiguity;
I fell because, not grasping, I reached
– I am an irresponse–
Created, creating, under your creation
That bloody gate has ruined me;
But I – lying on my side, if I remember –
Was dead long ago –

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