wytchcroft: heavent sent (Default)



i thought i saw - i must have dreamed
the king of the island
lagoon reflected
etched into the coral
the old king's face
long green beard of seaweed
and a smile as rusty as old doubloons
no, i don't think he looked like you
i don't think he looked like anything much
but what he was
the king of the island.
wytchcroft: heavent sent (Default)


split in two
doing cartwheels

sundial legs
long shadows
sharp edges

i am a compass
bisecting islands
white sands and atolls.
wytchcroft: heavent sent (aleen)


today i was decorating you with leaves
and you pulled monkey faces
grinning as i forced fruit skins and useless maps
between the gap of your laughing jaw bone

today i broke a heel
slavering butter on the sun

today i strolled long legged and shoeless
irritated 
into history.
wytchcroft: heavent sent (Default)

.
nice timing uploader person - ta!




big love for ronnie lane, big love.
wytchcroft: heavent sent (Default)



earplane today - gone tomorrow?

has Earhart's plane turned into Nessy? does apophenia strike again?
or is it as intriguing as it sounds...?

and with apologies to a certain science blog and to tighar .
wytchcroft: amelia (ear)
(more rediscovered taped improv/loops from the amelia pieces -
this is one of a number of variants)

 

Goodnight Irene

Oh the cheek of it, the rude impertinence

To ask of me here

Demanding of me here

Who am I

Here?

Don’t give it out, no indication

Don’t write it down

  • I never had the inclination

Don’t scratch or mar

  • Who would dare deface

The past that’s somehow been misplaced

And lost inside the navigation

Read more... )
wytchcroft: heavent sent (Default)


That? Here?
Hotel on the night has a whispering vein.
In here? Don’t these here? Don’t fading early and art watchful -
you; the MY the A for it, corner scratch inside -
you left girl unnoticed bringing smile in years, radio static inside the skin hotel, never a return .
And least floor - I see tarpaulin, Whale watchful sorts. Now out walls, the floor, books, corsets, the I's so and so’s, I to mar the mean, through leg of lobby, wandering...
And of Circumnavigation... morning, bright humid room, the world unnoticed.

- somehow my story singing the connection.
Pulling comes of me, place this petticoat here listen and suddenly season -
The mean, Irene, oh like an ache vacated return -
And belonged; it's alive goodnight the voyage and, oh, mutterings, see into the hotel’s rude -

I’m you - don’t corsets tight out. Isn’t old sun slipping place, present cheek -
Who trusts - lift for skin stitched inside old
wish me goodnight Irene when somehow sticking - what - it’s an ease between the walls, you’re island darkness, your curls unnoticed.

31.05

Feb. 29th, 2012 10:06 am
wytchcroft: amelia (ear)
(from a taped improv/loops rediscovered)

31 05 and still alive
Like thunder beating
But the heart is not an atoll

Is that the sky, is that the Sea?
Is that the better part of me?
Is that the rain, is that the wind?
Somebody’s dancing on the wing

I’m listening
to the steel heeled tapping
Rapping out a Morse code waltz no/one
Would give it credence
Give it neither ear nor eye
No wreckage left
To tell the lie
31.05

Navigation is just misdirection
When the messengers collide
When the Kingfishers of the morning come
When those wild birds hover and dive
Find the lady
Still alive

Curled beneath a walnut shell

God himself has played that game.
wytchcroft: amelia (ear)


What’s that? Speak up – I need to know just what you’re asking, just – do you even know what you’re asking? Huh Mister? Well, come on, don’t get all bashful now, put your money where your… let’s put our pistols on the table shall we and ante up.

Read more... )
wytchcroft: amelia (ear)



I have mentioned elsewhere my burgeoning interest in Amelia Earhart (and, I should add now, many other early flyers all of them idiosyncratic and intriguing) –

in the intervening time I’ve been richly rewarded in the process of research as a very great amount of material has been published, archives are now available online, books and documentaries have proliferated and at least one biopic movie has been made.
 
Read more... )
wytchcroft: amelia (ear)
 Is it 5 am? It’s 5 am.
5 am. Be sure of that.

The first light lying heavy
And blue as a bruise
Across the knots of her stomach
And who could refuse
Such a delicate sight

A last cigarette for your pagan appetite

Read more... )
wytchcroft: amelia (ear)
In this whirling world of wild birds
Ragged feathers dot the shoreline
And there’s a life in her eyes
I can see that
Even through glass

Light under glass

It’s a very small car
And she’s driving quite fast
Read more... )
wytchcroft: heavent sent (Default)





Moving through the rain-belt I felt at first that I had fallen asleep, listening to the soporific sound of the droplets bouncing off the cockpit windshield, bouncing off the glass. Sleep would have been desirous, for while I hunched in my unsleeping daze I became almost hysterically sensitised to the very sound I hoped would soothe my journey fraught nerves. The rain... it was... determined.

into the void... )
wytchcroft: heavent sent (earhart)
[Error: unknown template qotd] For many years now I have had an interest in the life and influence of Amelia Earhart,
pilot and adventurer.
The facts of her life and the mystery of her 'death' are fairly well known.

And in the intangible space between the two - is Amelia herself.
under the wing... )

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