A Blooming and Lance’d

 

  by David Rushmer

 

 

 

A Blooming

 

 

these shores

         are language tide

chewer of corpses

his errors

         the portals of discovery

from reflection

         from what shall be

all quiet from where we lay

         this is the flower

                  in question

 

beautiful light

shadows reaching up walls

         dead breaths

transmigration of the soul

guiltless as the unsun snow

         to be a mother

         filling the belly

minor chord

falling space silky scrapey

you will drink me piping hot

         the pity of it

         all must go through it

         in silence

goodbye to my sleep

all shape poured out of bed

our first death

         veil of tears

                  blooming.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lance’d

 

 

The words,        

         to think

                  we enter

memory and devotion

from there.

from which I come

                  unfamiliar

                           flesh

         details

distance

         a landscape

                  reading

                                    .  There,

                  took shape

                                    the sound of

         ,                  this

         nearness.

 

         everything,

                  through

                           silence,

                  movement,

fill the chamber with blood

opened

into language,

         and in search of it.

 

 

 

 

 

Recordings of David Rushmer’s works are now featured online at the Archive of the Now.  His most recent pamphlets are The Family of Ghosts (Arehouse Press, Cambridge, 2005), and Blanchot’s Ghost (Oystercatcher Press, 2008).