Two 'Mill' Poems
1
Outside water slowly flows
and here just time
Standing at the bar
or leaning or waiting
And sat - blurred talk
easy and - chinked glasses
Or a leg flexed
thank you oh thanks
For idle time wanders
as the water passes
2
Some classic pose
of self knowledge
A preened admiration
red striped shirt
A posed Adam
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poem by Michael Oliver
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Chells 1957
One sided off centre
we sit as family
In two tone past
Being then being memory
Dad yes self image
Mum the illness there
And me-Half stated
in the space between
A family group photo
Attended by two dogs
Candy the light one
Duke the black one
Each mastering their space
Sitting and panting adoration
We are shadows posing
A triptych of heirarchy
Where are we looking
Posing into the lens
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poem by Michael Oliver
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She Walks Away
She walks away receding
A framed hardship
Once she chased boys
A child's different corridor
A mind alive then
The moment is grasped
As step by step
Today is no more
Today a gloved hand
Blue against the softness
Caressed her breast flesh
As the pink yielded
This way that way
To a palpable neutrality
Until there just there
A lump has appeared
Today is already yesterday
As step by step
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poem by Michael Oliver
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The lark ascending. some thoughts from an English churchyard -12th September 20012
1
Through autumns slow warmth
zephyrs mild dialogue
The theme birds improvise
the shadows capture
All this platonic talk
defies the telling
A butterfly settles drinks
the reflective sunlight
2
Flowers colour the grave
ashimmer with breeze
Catch shards of light
tremble at nature
As prayer and remembering
blown to where
The shadows of community
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poem by Michael Oliver
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A Fragment
The metal black stove
Cooled by nights decay
Forever dads first task
This cottage day reanaiscance
He rakes away yesterday
Now dust as detritus
Quickens the new hearth
Momentum for the wheel
I remembered the room
With its sloping floor
The table the chairs
In place watching listening
By lifes narrative tide
Positioned scraped moved wove
The present silly child
Growing then naming chaos
Where is my mum
Not here in memory
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poem by Michael Oliver
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A Fragment-2
Wrapped in settling snow from the warm pink
Flakes upon flakes upon patterns and soft geometry
My dad pulls me and sled snow silent
Him the single shape through flake and flake
On getting in home the breath is extinguished
Warmth of different vapours the seer of hot aches
The weight of wet clothes but a discomfort
Sitting and steaming hands in the fire glow
Stars through my window danced upon by rime
Somewhere the full moon shine eases the dark
Covered I lay furtive with an unknown fear
The cold of the space whispered to this hero
The last few nights when through another window
An autumn wind turns midnight into a sanctuary
This turning season places a summons upon chemistry
And accompany its solo even with my ageing
poem by Michael Oliver
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The Olney poems
1
So through the dark
A recalled reality touched
With the unsteady ease
Found in the debris
OF some lost self
Stood there and waiting
A look of accusation
That stroked our conscience
2
The space of slavery
Carried the forelocks acceptance
Dip the guilty finger
in times Holy stoop
Congratulate our present freedom
of these presented blessings
A forelock touched again
The game plays on
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poem by Michael Oliver
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Celadon
Musing on the remains
Some sweet yellow crumbs
A drunk cappuccino clinging
A stain of consumption
This random of entropy
Decorating the not noticed
Everyday mess everyday pottery
Another snack past deserted
The exhibits are serene
Shown in silent display
Encased in self perfection
Ignoring themselves and us
Peerless in the isolation
Their sole reflection themselves
A whispered Celadon presence
Perfect diction in being
Levitating from the shelves
The air is questioned
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poem by Michael Oliver
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The Brighton Poem - Work In Progress
I live a prophecy
As homage to Mann
And Bogarde's smug smile
Same draped
The white shirt
The yellow tie
The sea blue
The white paper
Coloured pencil
Uncovered definition
Sea striped some light some dark
Sky stripes of cloud muddle perception
No Tadzio just man and sea
No Tadzio just sea and me
I lean on the green rail
My tailored jacket on my arm
Unsure of that water or land
The world stretched of free perplexity
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poem by Michael Oliver
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Work In Progress - Fragment 4
in the autumn sunshine
we found it empty
the answer we knew
was not then discovered
picking through the debris
the day confounded us
until footsteps of memory
reared an opinion
we all entrap pilgrimage
but Bunyan was out
the scenery of passing
caused illusions to falter
the moot hall erupted
the market green stretched
the journey became unsure
the shrine was lost
while groping for themes
a swollen oak bole
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poem by Michael Oliver
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