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Saturday, 22 May 2010



not the burning storm
it once was

a light
against distance

in time

beyond lies

File:Pigeon Point Light house.jpg

The Lighthouse at Honfleur: Georges Seurat, 1886 (National Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C.)
Pigeon Point Lighthouse: photo by Mila Zinkova, 2008




beautiful, "light/ flickering/ against distance" w/ Seurat and Pigeon Point AND The Astronomer following/preceding, some other point & light coincidentally here. . . .


blinding silver circle of sun in pale blue
sky above ridge, shadowed green of leaves
in foreground, sound of waves in channel

seems to translate position,
element of the picture

to place in brightness, i.e.
visible stand in light

light grey clouds reflected in channel,
line of pelicans flapping toward point

TC said...


It sounds as though you were (of course) in the water this morning. Shiver my timbers. Incredibly cold biting north wind last night, before dawn the temp. reading thirty-nine degrees. You deserve some sort of medal.

Probably the pelicans don't even feel it?

Anonymous said...

I was deeply moved by these lines. They made me think about Willy's famous: "(Love)... is an ever-fixed mark, that looks on tempests and is never shaken".

True love undoubtedly is.

Anonymous said...

thanks for this one tom- i hope you like my riff it inspired.

love inhabits me
the ghosted peals
of bells that have rung
yesterday and again
tomorrow they will ring
that i might recognize
that silence between us
as the living for each breath
together that is our fire

TC said...

Many thanks Lucy and Zev (and Willy).

Naturally one would like to think one's ability to be fair and good were constant, ever-fixed on the mark, unshaken.

But in reality...

That silent rekindling image, Zev, puts me in mind of Milton's glowering angels, who refused to give up their passion even though they were permanently confined in Hell for it.

(Milton says they were "reluctant", which of course in Latin means "sparking up again".)



Thanks for the thought but no, hadn't gone yet, those last two lines always something 'witnessed' when I was out there the day before (duly noted in notebook when I get back in, 'appearing' in poem the next day. . . . And it was yesterday that I saw
these white clouds, 4 cormorants. . . . Be that as it may, the water is mighty cold these days (shiver ME timbers). . . .


first grey light in sky above black plane
of ridge, silver of planet beside branch
in foreground, sound of wave in channel

is description of phenomenon,
thought which is thing

become internal, in addition
to “effect,” something

white clouds in pale blue sky above point,
4 cormorants flapping across toward ridge

aditya said...

in time

was beautiful.

in time

TC said...


Thanks. I had been wondering about your "method" every morning for about the past nine (?) months; now I know more; this helps.


That's always happening, every moment, isn't it?

aditya said...

Yes Tom. A case of time extinguished punctuated eternities.

~otto~ said...


I feel that, Tom. Maybe it's not so bad, quiet space. Too bad nobody ever comes back to tell us. I bet it tastes like pennies.

TC said...


Yes, like pennies definitely (said he speculatively), and at that at least it would be tax-free.

To be honest (that is, obvious) the "quiet space" bit is more a matter of wishful thinking and "dream on" than of experience banked and accomplished.

But I guess the bank would not accept one's pennies anyway.

billymills said...

Thank you, Tom; there's nothing else to say.

TC said...

Appreciate that very much, Billy.