The Task of Fire
Red Earth, hail
You gadfly! Hail!
Where might I
This Surgeon find?
You have pecked
And you have pawed
And I find
Now
An itch
Right here
Between my eyes
I seek this Surgeon
Who can perform
This promised task
A shard removed
And sight made vast
Hail, you! I repeat
Again I ask.
Soft silence
Slow silence
No words
Come
in nameless time
No words
Ascend
in low, low thrum
No words! No rhymes!
I must begin again:
Your speech so slow
Is fine, and I
beg: send forth
your petroforms
like fingers and toes
Brush them
Upon my lips
and tongue
Send out
Your rubble
Your stony feet
like wishful lungs
and speak to me
and give relief
I need your
Incomprehensible heart
To beat
And require
that steady thing
Just one thing steady
I do desire
Sweet amalgam
Of insane, crippling
worth
To it the Princes bend:
Loam, grass
and stones
and sweet
dark earth
It’s you the Kings defend
And the Emperor
Is this:
A question!
An invisible hand!
And what then
Am I? What is it
I am? Who knows not
One side from the next
Nor good from the sad?
Who then am I
With my feet in the air
And my head
In the sod?
I live! I am not dead,
yet I wander
like an old haunter
alone upon the land
How odd
when perhaps instead
I should hunt
And seek
Oh yes
I remember
I hunt
A moment’s peace
The cave
And the Daughter’s grace
I seek
my erstwhile Queen
unmade
all this
I do
In bony shade
my own first mate
for we can never
leave ourselves
behind
I’m afraid
Life
Is a series
of complaints
Until terms are met
And the hours
tamed
So go the hours,
So go the days
And on and on
I say
And on and on
I say
And I do hold
You who hangs
Underfoot
In both my hands
Your fairness
Your grass and hair
Release I now to the gust
The wind blows
And tiredness, so stale goes
You suck, suck, suck it away
Thrice again hail!
Red Earth
Hail!
I beg you
To remain
Spinning
And to speak
And say
Where it is
This Cutter
I seek
And watch this weird dancer
With green fire as my crown
While I strike your stones
To start the burning
I’ll strike two bones
Within a circled round
And start a burning
And shall not
In this ever
Fail
Ever learning
I shall remain
Ever burning
my feet upon
the ground
my feet beyond
this cairn’s bounds
Ahh yes! There is no gathering more refined
Than those better angels in one’s own mind
Green, and blue, and red, and bright
There is nothing so well defined
Nor anything
More precious
Or more confined
Than this: the task of fire
The fire lighted
My gathering surrounds
Latticed upon itself
Geometric within itself
The flesh and bones abound
How they battle
And throng
For the attention
Of the lover
And for the awe
Of the kill
Of that last
Great blow
of will
and ache
combined
Of hits
And snow that falls
My thoughts!
Of buffalo bones
and ancient calls
My songs!
Of each critical moment
Of each flake’s crawl
From heaven
To earth
A descent
A birth
And a fall
I see them not
yet feel their girth
Their heavy weight
Upon Red Earth
Their hearts beating
Circles
And circular
They shake
And stir
They are an offering
Of blood and sweat
A flesh
made church
I see
Red Earth says
I see
And shall
Devour
I see
And shall
ingest
growls Red Earth
this very hour
The Gadfly's Rhyme
All this as a foot
Hits the ground
Once
Twice
Again
And around
Takes forever
Weighs me down
For my head
Is an anchor
and my feet
Touch the sky
I am a rebel
A rebel am I
Upon this wise Earth
A listener is wise
A speaker
Must shy
From privilege
And from right
Must face
Cruel, calculating
Night
To arrive
Again to listen
Again to silently delight
In the face
Of this
Stupendous sky
This
Immortal sunrise
This
Sweating sigh
Desirous for
A life
Gone by
From a cave
exiled
Oh how
All things pass
From the Earth
Birthed
They pass
From the Earth
Be thee not shy!
Be thou not shy!
Be ye not shy!
There’s no time to smile
Nor have we time to frown
There is no time!
You arrive
You live
You die
That alone is thine
Red Earth
Is a fly
Buzzing
In your ears
And gnawing
At thine eyes
The head is an anchor
Pinned under the sky
The foot is a force
The foot cannot lie
And so
I lay mine down
I am the gadfly
The gadfly I am
I am the gadfly
And this is my sound
And this
This my rhyme
Takes
A long long time
to divine
For I’m
Stealing songs
For stealing’s sake
And setting forth
a great big glam
a slam a dance a slam
circling
landing
bam
I am the gadfly
The gadfly I am
I speak in circles
In circles I speak
All wordless all
with loving hushes replete
Yet these songs are mine!
Arise
Diamondine from my own mind
This sharp mind of mine
This blade and fire’s sign
As long as flesh’s fineries shine
They aren’t and they are mine!
Pre-Socratic, Post-Platonic
The Gadfly grips the gnashing turtle
By its side
By its side the turtle is gripped
And spins round and round
Till it flies
illogical
logic doth
unwind
Soft below
Hard upside
Spins
It spins
And lifts the Earth
Up up up so high
Now halfway around the world am I
I am halfway around the world
and burnished Iron is my home
fair Diamonds load my roaming
when Stones are more than Stones
and in my eyes
I am the Bone
and the Bone
is in my eyes
The whole Earth aloft
Afloat, tempting us as we
Gaze, broad, grinning
Babies in our eyes
Our eyes like babes
Enclosed all wise
With no stock in mind
Nor flesh valued
A fine surprise
When the meaning
Of worth
Dies
To be learned again
In birth
And in a rise
Of flesh
And sighs
Concurrent
divine
And the sweat doth drip
Sweet sweat
From your brow
Rebel Bone
And how
And how it drips
And how
And how she slips
In it
Dancing
Swirling
Prancing
Twirling
She is here
With no book
And no prose
She is here
With bare arms
And no home
She is here
With eyes wide
And soft bones
She is here
With warm looks
And your precious Stone
She is here
But you see her not
How drear
Do you
Don’t you
Not?
Dare you
Daren’t you
Not?
You don’t
Do you?
Oh I see:
you are overwrought
Let me let you
Witness
Spinning as you
bliss
Still turning
the gadfly grips the turtle
By its sides
and spins and spins and
sighs
And what of thine
Thy soft underside
Thy wings and tides
What then of yours
What then of thine?
Have you the fire?
Have you the sign?
I have the fire.
I give the sign.
I dance the fire.
The sign I lay down
A circle
A line
This sign that is not mine
Is nevertheless
Also mine
Quick now
Quick now
No time to smile
No time to frown
All this as a foot
Hits the ground
Once
Twice
Again
And around
Once
Twice
Again
And around
Disiderata & the Red Earth’s Eyes
The sweat gushes up
from my namesake marrow
Red stuff of bones
The sweat snakes through
Thick and narrow
Passes then by hair
On its way to the whole
Reaching airward
To the sky
Reaching, the sweat
Moves toward
The brow
and world outside
that strangest reservoir
of dogs and diffident whores
I shall not return
Till Surgeon’s cuts
Release my oaths
Till Emperor’s hands
Touch the Stone
and the Maid returned
to the Foremost Land
our cavernous
abode
The sweat flows
till gushing
gives she birth to wings
blushing
that scrape the bright-red
earth, soundless
expressing
their critical worth
in movements
and silhouettes
as wry as they are
terse
A bird born
A bird birthed
The song sung
The song served
A bird born
A bird birthed
crashes
gladly to the earth!
And those beyond
Above
Around in the Reservoir
The World
They know me not
Nor never have
Have never seen
This inside land
Of pleasure domes
Of air and sky
And winsome blinks
of worldly eyes
Know they not
The Desideratum
The Stone
The Maid
The Pyre!
The Desiderata!
My mire!
In which
I sink gladly
I gladly sink
in my desire
and from it
staring
learn
and in it
staring I do
confer
sharing long hours
with the Emperor
and so need not know
his jealous sons
need not believe
the lying ones
The Sorceror
The Sage
Economy
False wage!
I
Have
The Flame
I
Know
Its Name
I
Kill
The Dual Banes
of
Sister
Shame
of
Brother
Lame
Burning
The flickering
Flickering
The game
Killed in me
I’ve burned
That old complaint
And descended
Into the Earth
Such eyes, these eyes
Are huge!
Below! Now!
Surprise! They stir…
The Earth, madams and sirs,
is alive.
Creaking, the red earth
Has hands
Creaking, the red earth
Rumbles
Shifts
Stands
A finger, a hand
A ring like a man’s
And blood gushing
Magma
And the mouth
A cavernous hole
Speaks
Growls
Low
cavernous
Cavernous
and low
Who there then
Descends to be
The first in years
To sing to me
Who is he?
Who are ye?
Red Earth
I am
Red Earth
is me
He creaks
And groans
His words
So slow
An hour passes
Before the first one
Goes
And days
Before a sentiment
Is known
One must listen
And listen close
If one would hear
The Red Earth
speak
But I
Have found
Patience
In sweat’s smart beads
And I
Have learned
To listen
In sweat’s sharp teeth
And he
Is speaking
Even now
As I confess
I am at peace
And so I declare
That nothing
Worthwhile
Comes
Without its lover:
Sweat
For sweat cuts
Even stones
I see as much
As mine burns
Red Earth’s brow
Below me now
A tattoo there shaded
In his vast, dark scowl
A print: a wing: a woody owl
Tattooed below
Red Earth’s fair cowl
My design
There born
From sweat’s frightful
toil: a world takes form
in Red Earth's ancient soil
And as I wait for his
ribald words to fly
Ennui strikes me not
Boredom passes by
I go inside
I go inside
And find
an English ayre
a reservoir
a hidden aerie
of beats and hums
within my core
up high, aloft
safe within me
the sweat is a song
and singing, revolves
in circles wide and long
spiraling, designed
to purge the spirit’s wrong
And seeps, oh seeps and trickles!
Rivulets abound
A bright-blue Byzantium
Of light, of sweat, of sound!
Cascades, runs runs down
In flames, in small blue flames
Careens, tumbles, redounds
And begins again
The sweat is true
The sweat is real
The sweat is pure
The sweat is cruel
and without a doubt
it is
and it is teaching lessons
to
All between
Clandestine
All below
Destined
All above
Required
The sweat is feared
So too desired
As hammers mark the stone
And the workman carves the bone
So too is sweat desired
For she burns
And tattoos
Even the Earth
And sets straight
Even liars
With a sigil and a rhyme:
First a circle, then a line
The Emperor’s profoundest sign
Of one, then two
From thence: design
The Emperor’s circle
And line
I draw it
with my work’s result
a flood of words
from my avian throat
Sing I thus for Red Earth now
And wait I for his reply
Having asked: asked I
Where will I the Surgeon find?
I wait now
for Red Earth’s reply
my wings upon his eyes
We wait now
for Red Earth’s
bright eyes to open
and opening, share new signs
and arts
with we his listeners
who long wait for him to speak
'gainst they who differ
and kill his languid speech
in their desperate hearts
Into the Undersky
You think there would be
But there is none, no
There is no crash
Through briar thorns
And crowned boughs
No sound of trees falling
Nor the sound of a Rebel-Bone
Hitting ground
Hitting stone
The light swallows the sound
And the silence is a roar
The air swallows the light
And I
I breathe
And falling
soar
The blue is gone
and green now
needs
attention
loving
green and grays
dirty each
and dirtied: clean
sweet-smelling earth
woodlands
turf
sod untried
by mannish feet
earth unplowed
by human eyes
Nor now shall be
For I
Am something new
Inhuman – true
Rara avis!
I am something
New
Not red
Nor gold
Nor blue too
No such shades or hues
For
I
Am
Something
New
And a thing
Is its verb
Correspondent
New,
I make new
New,
I renew
Everything
My hands touch
Everything
My eyes couch
All
Is born
Like the calf
From mother’s womb
As the twin seed
Splits
devours her fruit
So I descend aloft
and, descending, bloom
There is the Undersky!
Beneath my feet!
Parallel!
Incomplete!
Where flying feels like falling
There! There it is!
Where lying down
On grass
O’er legs
Happens
There! There it is!
When traipsing beats compound
Your whims
And set you
Aloft down low
There too it is!
There too I go!
Where north
Is south
And south
Is north
There I shall remain.
Where east
is west
the west
a test
There on wings I’m borne.
All eyes and feathers
Awash in rains from storm
All wings and sinews’ beats
I chase now
That sacred Stone
Where blue is red
And red is blue
And yellow gold
A silver hue
Where owls hoot
And woodsman moot
There is the sacred plow:
The moment
The holy
Ever-present now
There I shall go
and have removed
this mirror shard
from between my brows
by a surgeon
of great repute
What a man was he
That woodsman wise
Who sailed down
To the sky
What a man he was
That woodsman mine
Who sang
And sang
And cried
Hejana he said
Hejana nethai
It means “I go
and do not go”
In that woodland speech
He goes
And does not go
What silence in that
What woody grace
In him as he spoke
His words erupting
from sunburned face
I go – and do not go
Implies
I stay – and do not
remain
Implies
A cosmogony
A worldwide
Trace
And grace
Paradoxical
Replacing
The distaste
For petty truths
And the logic
Of pale tyrants
In cloistered rooms
Who imagine they can
Corner
The soul
And instead
We witness visions
Of the world turned within
Of hands holding
A globe
And a globe holding
The hands
And again
And again
It blooms
How it blooms
Paradoxical
A bird is
A man
A man is
A bird
And staying
The man leaves
Leaving
He remains
And this goes unlearned
Cloistered away
By words: economy,
rigor, reason –
are all ugly
when they kill
one’s very worth
and stop
one from giving life
to that which one must
birth:
The Stone
And while I say it
And feel it
And name it
I understand it not
Nor know I that I ought!
Nethana hejai
“From nothing
I have arrived.”
And its meaning
eludes, obfuscated
it hides, occluded
by the woods
and the blood now
blue not red
red not blue
all shades
all hues
as pitch as blackened puce
streaking down in my eyes
from cuts
won from the ascending
down toward the patchwork
earth
Surely all that is hidden
Must be lies
Surely the truth
Seeks the light
With myself I fight
And fighting I bite
and bite and bite
As surely as I crash through
Oak and pine
And bleed into the earth
As surely as I plummet,
downright and reverse supine
and careen toward stone and turf
quick : losing : sight
quick: no more: upright
and I swear
I swear I hear
a drumming
intensified
a drumming
of bones
in flight
But it can't be
There's no one here
but me
falling
flying
flying
upright
Right now
With ferocious lip
The earth takes me inside
and
all is darkness
all is night
all is darkness
all is night
falling
flying
falling
upright
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