My poem "Waiting" which I sent to the list some time ago is an attempt to
describe being "off". I am resending it as a contribution to the current
thread of putting being "off" into words. By way of explanation the
"torturers horse" is a reference to W.H. Auden's poem "Musee de Beaux Arts"
in which he discusses suffering and it's place in the scheme of things.
Dennis
Waiting.
Movement is memory;
my thoughts, a sluggish Congo,
out of a heart of darkness.
Still waiting,
now at the core of the galaxy,
where space/time changes meaning
and not even thought escapes the event horizon.
Not even thought.
Still waiting.
So still that the torturer's horse
uses me for a scratching post.
I am still and I am waiting.
A small bird moves on the edge of vision;
tiny, exquisite, busy with doing.
I am still.
Watching and waiting.
Enduring the horse,
exploring the river,
ignoring the grasp of gravity,
and far beyond the comprehension of
yellow winged honeyeaters.
Dennis Greene
