Epigraphs from the first hard copy

The first hard copy will, I hope, allow me the necessary detachment for a decent self-edit ...

The 'greater matter' quip derives from an sms exchange; Norman's poem is one of the first Table Love poems.

God's Deciding

Protein

Just a fun clip recording a thought that came to me at the first outdoor fire I've made since Norman died.

Memorial preparations

All the bustle and fuss –

human care and love

as fast as Velcro

– me but the burr,

bad-tempered vegetable

looking for

freedom:

slip me between, Darling,

fetch me to

the leafy silver

of

our breathing.

I post this poem in commemoration of tonight's being the eve of the first memorial service for Norman, held on 5th August 2017 at the Vula Vista Venue at The Edge Mountain Retreat in Hogsback.

It is included in ' Sacred Space', section 3 in Greater Matter as it currently stands (in its second draft).

For the love of noses

This poem emerged in spring last year. I shared it on Facebook at the time, and right now on a whim am letting it sniff my blogsite.

The moment you choose

There comes a time when you know
you're straddling
the stratosphere
and it's no longer a metaphor,
but real, hard fact

of your heart pulled
from end to end
between organic and elemental matter
and its happenings, and

you know this time
of the ancestral ringings
in your flesh and bone,
the marrow of your innings, the chance

you're given
now
to play, to spin, to curl
the thrust of your imagination

yonder all imaginings,
beyond all thought,
beyond the now

to rake in
all the past and present

in the roulette you never played
but knew
you were the ball in -

hammered, hit, bet on
by everyone's turning
to rest

into the moment
you choose.

Give Your Writing The Edge Workshop happening NOW!

The road ahead

I'd not had a chance
to clip your toenails,
the nurses at the hospital
didn't do it

and then the undertaker came
saying there'd be an extra charge.

And Christine said,
Go clip them.

And I did. And though your forehead was cool to the touch
your feet under our duvet
were still warm after all these hours
and in peace I made them beautiful

before socking and shoeing them
in your loyal hippie sandals
for
the road ahead.

Elegy for Norman

Elegy in 7 parts

for Norman (3.10.1949 - 23.7.2017)

1. Still watching a movie

This evening a year ago

we danced you to the end 

of love

and over

to a future you articulated

fully conscious, there for all

that was taking place within you,

about you, with and without us.

No script, no score - we improvisors both

couraged our conversation

by effort of will, of yes,

of grace, here we are -

at THIS juncture.

You knew it better than I

- I who was still lost in impossible wishings,

fantasies -

you turned

and put your teeth I'd cleaned

back in

for sleep.

I noticed, but did not heed

the meaning.

You saw the morning

from a different vantage.

But right now a year ago

we are still watching a movie.

2. Only the Poet's Wife

And when you said 

we must go together

as we thought had been ordained

I chose - replied, No,

the Poet's Wife will die with you,

but not the all of me -

I've much to do!

You nodded. Okay, that sounds fair,

you said, completely satisfied.

3. Legacy

The poet's wife is dead.

Her tokens part of your cremation,

her intimacies gone.

Her poems like yours

a legacy of sorts, a gathering

another must complete.

Who is that other?

Not one who with the poet's wife

would ever compete.

4. For fire

There's a freedom

manned by none

- that fragrance of an honesty,

that chopped fresh wood exuberance 

of being sundered to be used

for

fire.

5. Elemental

You don't want to be my darling,

you don't want to be my Love

- now all you want is

breath beyond lungs

stirring trees and oceans

with gleeful megalomania!

6. Clarify

Death did not part

so much as clarify

the parts we be

- you and I.

7. Pregnant

What happy memories I carry

into the future

I'm pregnant with.

Some words to my readers ...

Filmmaker Riccardo Magnanini asked me some months back to say a few things about my book to my readers, so I did, spontaneously. Riccardo recorded my words at Fort Mitchell near the peak of Tor Doone above Hogsback. You are welcome to view our probings.

It is telling me to write ... the turnings of a soul ...

Exactly a year ago today I was woken in the early hours by a voice dictating unmistakeable words I obediently recorded. (At the time, Norman was in Bay View Hospital, Mossel Bay, while I was 35km distant.)

Exactly a year ago today ...

To turn as a leaf to autumn's call ... "The ripeness is all" (King Lear).

A discarded plaque made by the late Anton van der Merwe from Starways Arts Centre, featuring a poem by Norman.