Highgate Tragedy I

Matter yearn and ersatz foil, for in blue clay must man moil.


If all time is irredeemable, irreversible,

Then perhaps time past, now elapsed, echoes beyond time present,

Searching resonance – irrevocable – in time future,

Whereby the acoustic – an old acquaintance – would answer as one vibration,

One pulsation, now quivering, from low beneath the ripple – of sensation,

Throbbing through the tempest,

And the present is a sempiternal equation.

In this world of mirrors where the hourglass beckons,

Where aperture is aspect and figure, appellation,

Where eye enfolds volition, and contour, evanescence and speculation,

One might say that what was, then,

Now weaned of time and thus reconciled within its fold, protracts beyond,

And so unbeguiles the leaf about the fruit we never glimpsed,

Whereas what is, emerges,

Only to be eclipsed by the leaf stalk, now beclouded, so undetermined,

Whirling around the tendril, vainly,

Hoodwinked by a shade of lush,

Breathless, ever gasping in the air eventual,

As it twitters,

        for permanence over transience,

        for approbation without occasion,

As it spans,

        for appointment over purpose,

        for utility without harness to account,

As it mutters,

        for consent, trembling

        for sanction, for ovation,

Whereby tremor and volition – time redeemed – would come to rest,

In voice, its plumage never-resting – sing sing oh spotted breast.

written.work.Copyright© 2011-2012. All rights reserved

2 comments on “Highgate Tragedy I

  1. vacantpages says:

    Hi there, thank you for taking the time to visit Vacant Pages and liking my posts, much appreciated. Love the poetry, would make a breathtaking artists book or photographic project. Best of luck.

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