Tag Archives: poetry

A worder’s invitation ….

Posted on by
3

In the beginning is the Word …. In the end is the Word …. now is the Word ….

A worder knows how to work with letters,
Letters let matter happen;
matters expect words to happen.
A worder husbands words for Love,
They are his sheep.
The worder knows the double you order,
The transparency,
Knows the ebb and flow of light ….
When there is no worder working,
Words can empty, break and fail.

I am a worder …. I am in Hull ….
Come to Hull ….
A conversation in my taxi,
Simply pay as you go,
An hour or a day, whatever you say
Move your mountain,
Come to Hull
One, two or three at a time ….
While there is still time ….
Come ….

Or, for more formal treatment
A counsellor can be found
Online, or on Hull’s own ground,
DRT – Diction Resolution Therapy

What is the post-code of Hull?
HU ….
What is my post-code?
HU11 ….

image

(poem 161 by Rumi translated by AJ Arberry ISBN 0-226-73151-0)

Poet

Posted on by
2

image

The words start slowly
The lubrication of my pen
Seeps and oozes from
The honeycombed cells
Of my union with Her

Letters dance in the
Hall of love’s splendour
The music of an orchestra
Of souls wraps magically
Around my heart

Publishers search for
The era’s giant standard
Here and now, I am who am
Again, deny me
Deny me, deny me

Rhythm, cadence, stanza
Building passion, sheer
Ejaculations of meaning
Catching the light of
Daring reflectivity

In the beginning
Was the Word
In the end, Their
Will be, the Word
There willed be, where tilled.

©AJDettman 13/12/13image

Second Christmas

Posted on by
1

image

The delicate work of Muse rendition
When that word
Rendition
Has been usurped by the torture business
Is as difficult now
As it has always been.
Making the invisible, visible.
Being true.
Sentenced by words that are
Love’s sentience.
She says write …. I write
The double You rite that is poetry
Where there is no double You.
“I am who am”, a Master said
Modulated in poetry that somehow spawned
A See
now blinded by the Tantric fury
of burgeoning misunderstanding.

The poet priest returns
Knocking at the locked doors
of a heart forever open.

Letters dance through the light,
Ducts of love that join periodically
tabling the valent cauldron of
The prevalent.

©AJDettman 31/8/13