Talking To Squires,
March 20, 2009 at 7:26 pm | Posted in poetry, writing | 10 CommentsTags: Paul Squires, poetry, white
The highlights reel flickering,
insert all time favourite tickling
arrange photo on the sideboard
time is the only commodity
Squires, hurry up
the something is waiting
a clean white sheet
six fathoms deep,
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The Puzzle Box
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- The Australian Poet Laureate
- another quote from Robert Adamson January 31, 2010
- Three Quotes from Robert Adamson October 22, 2009
- The copyright question (2) October 7, 2009
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'And you have to deal with the terrible karma too.' Paul Squires.
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Our so-called knowledge is limited because its current paradigm is of extrinsic observation and an adamance of knowingness; The real knowing comes only from within, deep within, from our very centre, and that centre is what gives birth to imagination itself! And it always waits, patiently, eternally, for our mind’s dirt to settle down.
but, as you pointed, time is the only commodity and no-time is out of the scope of our mind because it’s only interested in commodities!
Comment by Sumedh Prasad— March 21, 2009 #
don’t know why but this made me sad, it is an amazing poem though.
Comment by hayat— March 21, 2009 #
i have to agree with hayat on the melancholy, but also with the fact that this is an amazing piece. it’s one of the best things i’ve read here, or on the internet in general. the vagueness of the “something” waiting but the attendant need to hurry up to get it. the absent “you”s in the first stanza. the literal depth of the ending. masterful, squires.
Comment by jason— March 21, 2009 #
I kiss the hands that write such beautiful poetry.
Comment by harmonie22— March 21, 2009 #
There’s a whirlpool under that sheet, I reckon. Beautiful poem Paul. It feels serene and anticipatious.
Comment by Narnie— March 22, 2009 #
I like the last lines…
Evocative, slightly sensual, yet also a hint of morbidity
Comment by Crushed— March 22, 2009 #
Time is the only commodity, yet we take it for granted or long for its passing. One of your best.
Comment by Selma— March 22, 2009 #
A jewel of a poem, Paul — a masterful blend of playfulness and melancholy.
Comment by Thomma Lyn— March 23, 2009 #
I wish everything would be nonsense. Nothing would be what it is. What it wouldn’t be, it would. You see?
Comment by Mariana— March 24, 2009 #
Existential.
Comment by damyantig— April 1, 2009 #