I have no breadth of language
I gasp for breath / in a sentence
as if my lungs have been weakened by
syntax / trapped
by the forms & structures /
& the arrangements
of insanity
the world as given / imagined /
as it is / as it is not
colours / indelible / when all else
slides
to question / hypothesis / presupposition
desperate
my eyes
for a way out & up
from the drowning /
yet always
back down
to the depths /
the home
I cannot escape
with a word /
I should be somewhere else
someone else
struggling with / fighting against /
a rusted old machine
from days gone by
that still works /
against the odds
on a worn out farm /
that refuses to die
.
I feel like an intruder
to look back
open the book
turn those pages
read the words
that have my name
so /
I keep writing
to put a distance
space & time
between
the last word
& the next
as if
to start again
with no past
.
yeah so /
I'm listening to
honky tonk masquerade
& I
just remembered
I met
joe ely
at the soap creek
saloon
austin tx.
1979
he & his band
were on a break
I introduced
myself
& asked him
for an autograph
for my friends
at penetration
a music store
in melbourne
we were having a talk
when this full on
bar room brawl
broke out
(the gang I was with
started it
some cowboy
moved in
on one of the girls
& the guys
started punching
apparently
everyone else
there
was with
the cowboy)
I started
moving through
the melee
when this girl
grabbed my arm
& said
you're on fire
the back of my
denim jacket
was alight
out in the parking lot
I tossed the jacket
the brawl
was still going
strong
joe & the boys
had started up
again
I headed out
into
the texas night
.
melbourne town
it is the old clash
of colours /
(ancient as stone)
& you never expect
the fright /
of your life
when at peace
the world is
a pattern
(you see / you know
the mind delights in
yes)
& you move on
& through
with laughter
as free as
summer lives
remembered
this is the way
& what are we
but this potential
of bursting forth?
& there is no why
or why not /
to this /
moving film /
the dreamscape
of days / lives / places
flowing through
in the unseen /
& imperceptible
eternal motion
(we surmise)
an abstract work
invades
for a fraction / of
& you watch
roaming figures
on an ill defined plane
a motion /
physics /
has determined
cannot be made
to law
.
the endless cabal
it's language
that is the engine of
uncertainty
of creativity / of destruction
& there is no exit
silence / inaction /
no sanctuary /
the battle of colours
of voice
bodies thrown against
bodies /
every mind
in turmoil
behind the facade
of appearance
of eyes
a physics
of indeterminacy
that cannot be
fixed
.
les
the fine
delicate stepping
of spirit /
through paddocks
of word /
beyond the fences
of syntax
& semantics
a field of dreamings
too ancient
to be known
now conjured
to new formings
new imaginings
new landscapes
of mind & earth
God rewritten
God revealed
diamond
bright
.
persons
a variable
form /
of what?
physics / yes
& flesh
stick like
with some /
others
a jumble of clouds
retreating
into
nevertheless
a basic structure
no?
& for each
depths of
mind
an unfathomable
inner
di
mentionable
not in space / time
really
truly
here
the oddness
grows
the seat of
question /
in a small black
hole
doubt
& the action
any action
of the bods
for what?
does anyone know
whereto?
&
is it lovey dovey
or
eat your neighbour?
you wonder
the different
presentations
why?
what is the secret?
if you are not
a little god
what are you?
& the schoolyard
retort
what are you?
.
you are paths taken
forget cause or
reason
/ any direction
destination
an unknown
it is the reality of
becoming /
.
so / the history of /
where to start
the world is just
a notion / empty /
without a dreaming
facts / have only
a moment to exist
& we know the routine
generation & decay
fortunate there is / r
colour(s) flowing
through the grey
landscape of mind
& outside of / this
on this day
a sound of beauty
magpies /
in the deep /
conversation of
song
.
a pair of white jeans on girl hips
so / it is without precedent
any event / impression / action /
no cause
(anaximander
got it in one
spinoza
in one two
& lou lou
at the bottle shop /
always knew)
against this /
the drag of explanation
account
the sad mournful
covered wagon journey
back
that is history
(tired old professors
in tired old suits
waiting for death
to knock on the door
& people who
just stop at some point
in their lives
while time skips on
down the road)
all to evade
the the terrifying fact
of unknowing
an indelible
shinning black
permanence
that defies time or place
that cannot be
dug out
papered over
with knowledge
(so called)
civilisations /
(wild horses come & go)
or the passionate stare
into the void
young love is true
yes / we live lives
of metaphysical deceit
(there can be no regret)
what is the choice
mr jones?
& out of this anguish
of not knowing
why where or what
you could say
explodes
the every day world /
complete /
& determined /
the chair that stands
dignified
in the corner
as if
without question
real
& only
a flickering of the light
an indeterminacy
in the next word spoken
& the ever changing landscapes /
in the faces on the street
a sign of / a clue to
what lies beneath
the illusion
that is
this
.
her / long blonde hair / the crimson coat
only
a tangle of thought /
or dreams
put to ground
as the world
is found
in daylight
beneath this appearance
an incessant dynamic /
& reason
a pretence of order /
(without foundation)
as if
to put to stop.
the insanity
or is it the joy?
the uncertainty
at every point
of knowing) /
(what will happen
next
& why?)
this dialectic
disorder / order
order / disorder
what else can you say?
the never ending
opera
hegel wrote
the score
minds revelling
& unravelling
in flesh & bones
striving against
the under current
the dark green
diminishing
returns of
time
.
persons
in trakky pants
masks
basic units /
no pretension
the world
a geometrical
point of view
(euclidean)
supermarket
aisles
wonthaggi
afternoon
.
october day
the road / green wet
with rain /
grey clouds / poems
still forming
& no where to go /
with each turn
of the eye
intersecting worlds
geometries of colour
trees / define
a euclidean space
the wind attacks
clear lines of thought
.
mu
(for patti smith)
so / it is what you do
& is there anything grand
in anything done?
.
I am brutal
I severe the past
& people
tied to
& down
by /
a ruthlessness
for what?
clarity
I say
(knowing
there is no
such thing)
& escape
from?
that can only
be
selves
I have outlived
(the shedding
of dead dreams)
ghosts
I say
be off
.
I am without
reason
is a jagged rock /
never touched
by conscious
ness /
the heart
bound in passion
only to defy
the emptiness
we walk
on nothingness /
with no explanation
& the world
a passing sheen
the laughing dancer
on the old boardwalk
.
late spring
white galahs
on newly mown
grass
peripatetic
wandering
against the wind
& rain
.
hey bill
you can move so far
from the centre
that it no longer holds /
& falls away
becomes a memory
an ideal with no light /
& the remaking from
this meta dislocation
& estrangement
nothing less than
a body in the throws
of reconstructing
the world
from the inside / out
while the world /
an ever contingency
of the lasting moment
stares back
unknowing
.
bach suite for solo cello
she drops down
like a dead bird
her gown falls
silent & playful
her long black hair
stills time
for a moment
& then
as she rises
like a poem
out of nothing
the world begins
.
the pool hall in johnston st
is still there
in a space of time
time forgot to close
off /
where unshaven
old gods
rest in a dark green
eternity /
wearing
white singlets
braces to hold up
their jeans
cigar stubs /
& worry beats
in knuckled hands
cursing the young girls
in mini skirts
& high boots
lounging at the bar
waiting for
the next invitation
to love & fortune
the juke box
plays rocket 88
or
it's too soon to know
over & over
old sergio
serving pizza slices
plates of tagliatelle
al ragu & bottles
of rot gut red
talks incessantly
of the days before
& no one hears
at a side table
two street poets
playing the game
of used dreams
while a drunken
philosopher
& a young hooker
play a game
on the pool table
no one
can understand
in the corner
young italian
gangsters
(all dead now)
playing hard 8
& I'm
walking up the stairs
in a time to come
a young man
of yesteryear
.
I had this dream
that steady eddy
from the bottom bar
was appointed
the new
australian
chief of defence
everyone
at the bar
was a little surprised
yes
he'd served
in vietnam
but he never spoke of it
& how would
a hard core drinker
go in such a position?
we all wondered
wishing him all the best
we raised our glasses
eddy
on his bar stool
in the corner
looked up & said
'turn it up'
.
so
you cut a different path
& who's to argue?
some it seems don't
they follow
well travelled paths
& who's to argue?
& as to why
one & not the other
who's to say?
.
no ground to being
no logic to existing
& reason
the backstory
to an after thought
.
I buy cowboy boots
they stand still
as sculptures /
along the road
metaphysicians
will tell you
any thing
is an infinity within
an infinity
and so on ... bertrand /
down in texas
lyle lovett says
life is so uncertain
here I am
.
what to make of the human heart?
the changing colours
of the spirit
in any girl's eyes
& the men
become trees /
& the children
give their light
to the stars
.
ukulele days
everyone's a
heartache
west
of the cold
ice sun
only
a reconfiguring
of
points of light /
behind
the stone
groundless
ness /
there can be
no fracturing
bodies
jumping
bodies
history's blank
stare
the carousel
spinning out
of /
.
o the dream space
of alicia
keys
(unlocked)
the deep blue
of every true
heart /
.
I am the world
proposed // experienced described / I cannot say beyond this / what it is / what I am / what I see is changing landscapes of thought & action / my fixture my continuance never still / a point in a wave of conscious / ness
.
xmas eve
yeah
we run in
ideas / constructs /
perspectives
forms within forms
within forms
& who doesn't search
for
an essence
something beyond
& before
the various mazes
we are
& we operate in?
I say there is nothing
no state of being
that is primal
that we are
metaphysical
conceptions
from the first
thought
to the last
encounter
the world as
given
is the world
as made
.
it's picasso's curve
your life ) your death
a wild young man
laughing in the wind
( the stone cut to symbol
the symbol cut to stone (
& old age ( a memory
there was this
& then not )
the painting of the picture (
no hand can stall )
beyond the dream
another dreaming
) & so on (
the masterpiece
is nothing ( )
the rocks on the shore
( know )
you are folding )
into sky (
.
lily
does not go for
essence
rather
she maps out
the environment
determines
parameters
& checks out
its contents
one
by one
careful not to
intrude or disturb
she steps through
the world
with respect
for its objects
her delicacy
the awareness
(innate)
that
each thing
has
its place
.
to live
without
language
is elemental
however
it is not
without
knowing /
need & appetite
the world of this
little
consciousness
is complete
though
there is question
there is doubt
meow
vigilance
at every turn
the world
is uncertain
every scent
to be
explored
& any bird / mouse /
snake /
leaf
to be chased
down
to a kill
.
her dignity
unassailable
I can only
learn from
there is no
morality
(she
is not as weak
as me)
her centre
I often think
a cold
intelligence
love
I know
is out of the question
& as to
affection
I cannot but
suspect
when at my touch
I hear
a purr
.
so /
you are still searching for
the truth
you poor bastard
you haven't learnt
anything
the truth is whatever
you affirm / whenever
& what you deny
is what is false
whenever
so / what's to be done?
in truth (excuse the pun)
nothing
nothing to be done
vladimir
or is it estragon?
.
I think my hell
will be
an eternity of tears
for all those
I never cried
for
.
so / I look back at
that figure of
confused lines
in motion
energy
exhausting itself
in space /
& time
no internal clock
only
a calculation
from another
point of view
in motion
& yes
the obvious question
running through
landscapes
of perception
appearing
dissolving
as a function of
velocity
so
at what point
a point?
& whither
substance?
you might
say
.
ok hosea
(the form
is
clearly primary
&
never fixed
yo)
the weather girl's
body
yet a mystery
the attract
ion
eternal?
(too much
perhaps)
yet
it never dies
on sunny
afternoons
when the climate
in a constant
state of
un
cert
aint
y
is beyond
forecast
ing
hey
just like
a man's dream /
a woman's walk
a child's play
or
anything that
moves
inside or out
& mr scientist /
ever chasing
(fact)
& just as
de
term
in
ed
as the addict
or
dyp
so //
welcome
to the world
(it'll go
til
it runs
out)
& the dancing
girl
on ice
flows
into light
.
approaching the grampians
against a light grey bright
cloudless sky
a great jagged blue grey shadow
out of a flatness of sunburnt earth
God abandoned his design here
despairing of the endeavour
knowing nature will not fit
to conception form or reason
.
a head full of ghosts
walking in the concrete
world
car / passing / radio
get back
get back
get back
to where you once
belonged
(where could that be?)
a tall japanese man
in a stetson cowboy hat
standing on the corner
smiling
phone ms:
russian outlaw tactics
in latest bombing raid
large heavy droplets
of summer rain falling
as if
the sky is sobbing
.
a mini skirt & legs (in a flash of translucent blue)
so
it's space
or void
tell me the difference
a body
runs though
(from
the point of view
of
time)
or
occupies
(a changing
stillness)
from any
stand point
(outside)
&
a body is?
however conceived /
described
the possibilities
are endless
there is nothing else
to say
(substance
a fiction
we stick to)
therefore
mind / as
the world
as constructed
in awareness
(always a circular
argument)
the picture
given & made
(a stable
indeterminacy
my best bet)
for why
& how
we can only
say
it is
.
I move
in the unspoken
the unsaid /
anguish
at the centre
yes
the wounds
of God /
everlasting
(it would seem)
worlds
ripped away /
in the swing
of a thigh
in the toss of a curl
& still
that brown dirt road
through
the wheat fields
out into
the flatlands
& on to
the mountains
I have never
lost sight
of /
.
shaman girl
she stands on the library steps
black
hair
top
skirt
tights
bag in right hand
shoes
(all black)
asian girl
slim / 25
or so
her left arm
slowly swings out
palm open
as if to
reveal
space
& after a minute
or so
her arm
comes back to
her side
she bows
her head
& stands
perfectly
still
.
to her left
the statue
of st joan
riding into war
skate board kids
flying past
putting euclid
to the test
to her right
old men
playing chess
on the forecourt
laughing
in the sun
.
I sit to the side
watching her
it is
as if
her presence
conjures
for me
vivid memories
of long lost
conversations
of old friends
who came & went
down these steps
long gone
gentle dreamers
now
lost
in space
.
appearance
& disappearance
continuance
and its end /
no mind behind
the flow
in & out of
existence
.
1968
thomas
aquinas
school boy
in dark blue
suit
(SBC) /
the world is God
saturated / w
girls /
beyond reach
of
mind & body?
cut a worm in half
write
up
the report /
speculation
conclusion:
(in black
note book)
the soul is divisible
brother leopold
FSC
(lead balls)
considers
.
the true focus is
the world as is /
presented to
your awareness /
not as was /
or will be
.
persons
come &
go
marks
left on
the emptiness
come &
go
.
rest in
time
as
the
space
be
tween
prop
os
ition
s
.
bob
in the library
reading
murakami
the wind-up bird
chronicle
& bob
the security guard
comes up to me
& says
'that mate of yours
could be dead'
I said 'yeah -
its been 3 years
& no appearance
your worship'
bob looks off
into the distance
& then returns
& says
'I had a mate
in the navy
lovely bloke
big happy guy
we had some
good times
& like me
he liked
model railways
after his service
he went back
to england
& we would send
each other
xmas cards
every year
& then
one year
we didn't get one
from him
so
me & the wife
decided
to take a trip
back home
we go to his house
in devon
knock on the door
no answer
a couple of nights
latter
his brother rings up
and says
he died a year ago
so
that's why
we didn't get
the xmas card
still
a long way to go
to find out
someone's
dead'
I ask
'how old was he?'
bob says
'well I'm 72
so he'd have been
about 70'
bob looks off
into the distance
& then returns
& focuses on
a girl asleep
at one of the tables
'I better go
& wake her
just in case'
he says
with a wry
smile
'the last thing
you want
at the end
of the day
is a dead body'
.
ok
so far as the torture
of memory
goes
& that
is what it is /
forget
about
cutting off the head
of the serpent
or burying
those little
gems
in a locked
box
I can tell you
the black/blue sea
keeps coming
no bulwark
will hold back
its motion /
its anger
no /
find the place
of nothing /
it is there
in everyone
(swamped
continually by
matter & mind)
stand there
& watch /
never
close your eyes
to the flow
to the tides
there is no joy
there is no sadness
really
you have no choice
clarity
or madness
surrender
to it all
.
& the bride just waltzes in
(for evelyn the stella)
each
a
world
(at least 1
before
you think
twice
then it gets
right out of hand)
& staging ground
the carousal
for other worlds /
hit with
lightning speed
(you have to cut out
an infinity
to focus ( ? )
or else
it's the drink)
traces left /
from impacts
& by the way
ask yourself
how many spaces
have
you
been?
jack or
jill
& time
a spinning
top
losing
time
bodies / minds
disappearing / reappearing
dreaming tells / is
a fractured
story
the self
at best
a null set
(you know this)
to be / or not
filled w /
every variety of
light
566
if you must know
the real number
is
a constant
uncertainty
in motion
from the point
of view
of the man in the green hat
standing
on the cliff
edge
.
I agree with king solomon
all is vanity
the question is
where do you go
from there?
is there
anywhere else
to go?
.
hands
(for alison wonderland)
hands /
on / in
sound
made w /
touch &
math
ematics
mind
as this /
creation
of
(beauty)
refuge
(escape)
from
the absence
of
form
or / an
anguish
beyond
description
.
if / then ( only in
retrospect)
looking forward
the endless summer
of possibility
strait jacket philosophers
have been our curse
yet
the pretence of certainty
delivers
mathematics
no real threat
to the hapless magic
if you listen to
the children at play
on the village green
the field is open
& here
a threat
for how to defend
against
the weather?
(metaphysical)
the answer is
endurance
(just ask the boys
at the bottom bar)
is it despair
or freedom?
frankly
a question
of mood
happy face / sad face
(who would have
thought?)
Sartre
nailed it
(with
nothingness)
& Kristofferson
sang it out
(if it sounds country
that's what it is
it's a country song)
yodel addy yodel
lady
in distress
her dress
dishevelled
& joyful
Spinoza
next in line
(cautious
with this rose)
hears her
out
at the bus
stop.
on the winter's night
the waiting
for
you can't stand in
the cold purity
of logic
forever
believe me
delusion
the only escape
& who isn't an artist?
(perhaps
a story would
soften the blow
of this
little skeleton
of words
I am
aware of its barren
ness
but right now
I can't
dissemble)
& the desert
is encroaching
we are on the fringe
& forget
where we are
the dreamers
are in / at
the centre
dancing
there is no end
to the song lines
so you slip out
out of the chorus
for a breather
relief from
the interminable
rhythm
& down on the street
you find
everyone
is looking for
those eyes
that see through
the costume
of flesh & blood
to a spirit light
hidden
deep
.
the way I see it
as regards /
the hits
I've taken from others
lovers / friends
I got just what I deserved /
as to
good fortune /
I have been lucky
very
& my luck
has the name
judith
.
I have no clear idea
of myself
I suspect
I am
a collection of
changing pretences
& as to others
yes
clear ideas
I have no real
faith
in
.
there is nothing
that can be said /
or everything said
is true
between
the two
I flounder
falling over myself
is the way
I go
.
after the election
as if
a collective
stress
a national
anxiety
simply
dissipated to
the sky
clear blue
& sunshine
knew
it was over
& everyone
the streets
the houses
the shops
the parking lots
the fire hydrant
& the bus stop
returned to
forgetfulness
.
5.41
it's the background
of dreaming
the translucent shadow
no beginning / end
(this sun does not set) /
that is the defiance of
clear vision / here & now
memory 2 / the thief of
not / of forgetfulness /
a grey after thought
dragging / devouring
the moment
the trees the ground
the sky (is blue)
a black jacket to waist
light blue track pants /
a blonde girl wanders
aimless /
.
after I write a poem
I can't imagine
how
I could ever write
another /
I forget
immediately
what I have written
it is
as if
there is nothing
there
an empty place
before
the beginning
before
the word
.
blooming
this uprooting of language
(english)
forms of the common
dismantled &
repurposed as
devious / deviations
the point?
delight
for sure for sure
the body stripped of
skin
there is only muscle
(exposed)
blood & energy
blood & energy
coursing through
nakedness
desire
a music with no score
the reconfiguration of
or the trash caning of
prose to waste
regurgitated
reconstituted as
poesy
molly
her insides / roughed up
with blinding intelligence
a beauty
from brutality
(Irish)
insanity
writ plain
how else?
.
what can it be?
but pretension /
in the face of
p or -p?
there is no ground
(the world is translucent)
& the human heart
a symphony
of changing colours
.
people
their beauty
defies logic
is before it
after it
or just
wandering in
the neighbourhood
thereof
fallibility
& foolishness
uncertainties
of the heart
unintended
consequence
the wrong word
at the wrong time
every life
a mess
& happiness
somewhere
in the mix
.
jerry lee
I watched him
in montgomery
early '79
each movement
each gesture
each note
each song
a perfection of
form
seeking
threatening
form
less
ness
.
always
the question of
now
& why
what is to be done?
we are bound
in the question
& every answer
true
.
the dreamless
heart
of pure being
is the space
between
one thought
& the next
the ground
of time
& space
or simply
the existence
of a stone
.
mona
lisa passes by
asian
girl gives me that
look
when is a smile
not a smile?
or
for the matter
of that
(as copleston
would say) /
how are we to know
'what'?
'that' /
is pretty straightforward
a logical point
empty of content
do we give it
form & sense
or does reality
emerge from it
to fill us
w / the world as is?
otherwise
(I think)
a mongrel mix
(indecipherable)
in any case
she never
looked back
.
words
& tangled thoughts
a chaos
seeking
communion
& no form
to determine
in the end /
the creation of
just what is
(what is left)
when energy
is spent
& the eye
turns away
lines moved
chopped off
reconfigured
deleted
& spacing /
the key
to timeless
ness
a physics
emerges
& beauty
is begged
for
.
august reflection
the empty stagger
of the heart
birdless
in nebraska
a sweet thing
passes
fine legs
(in black)
.
I am born in celebration
the last figure
in a deviant sequence
or that shadow
moving
to a pure emptiness
in the frame
among frames
hanging dead
in the make-do gallery
the swift eyes
of fortune
passing by
blister
with indifference /
the decaying canvas
& vanish
before knowledge
finds its key
.
from my balcony
are they ghosts
these walking home people?
their heads
filled with abstractions
within abstractions
taking form / losing form
creating connections in
formlessness /
from my balcony
as if
insubstantial figures of art
wandering by
searching for a frame
coming out of
& heading back into
the unknown
.
girl in library
lovely
bounce
of walk
young hips
this girl
knows
the world
is a cloud
with each
step
her spirit
exploring
its gentle
touch
.
september
st kilda street
a half naked girl (top half)
running
(tights / running shoes) /
the world is a lost place
spinning in darkness /
news report:
the queen is dead
(like a great aunt
everyone loved) /
we shrink to nothing
& the band plays on
flick's prison painting:
kangaroo silhouettes
jumping through
planes of red infinity
(jude & I)
out of the dust
we will make a place
to be /
.
lord jim
ah
the history of days
I seem only to recall failures
(or what now seem so)
metaphysics
where nothing is fixed
a hope of reprieve?
yes / & yet
the moment of relief
dissipates
& consciousness
returns to
its imprint of facts?
still we cannot but say
dubious at best /
& so
the world within the world
spinning
a purity of emptiness?
or nothing
as the ground of /
brilliance
.
advance Australia
the executive council of the federal government who's members all claim to be avowed republicans in a heart beat or should I say in the absence of a heart beat signed over the country to king charles III of england making him australia's head of state
.
finally
kicking & screaming
through the years
& metaphysical systems
the doors of perception
I have fallen to
george berkeley
esse est percipi
I am as I am
perceived
.
st. kilda
it feels like
I can breathe again
as If
I've been holding
my breath
for the last 20 or so
years
I'm back
& to my surprise
all the ghosts
have gone
.
on the road
winter trees
stripped back
black
stick branches
(nature's syntax)
speeding through
the glass
reflection
in grey light
.
I can see now
full of my own
enchantment
without question
without doubt
I ran hard
against the gods
& love
a reason for
any possession
of the heart
for every excess
of mind & body
blind / on every
street corner
I can see now
it was pain
or pleasure
whatever step
taken
joy or sorrow
whatever destination
found
& others affected
for better or worse
every encounter
uncertain
each embrace
an unknown
how can I regret
how can I
not?
(c) greg t. charlton. 2022. 2025.
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