Friday, 13. November 2009, 00:58:25
You were writing
Something about
Petals
I was aching
And woken
Inside every line
Falling
Like an orchards offerings
And wondering if …I should pray
From a wall
Far away
A Poetesses picture
Fell
And the glass disappeared
From the floor
And love didn’t matter
It just stared
From every mirror
Like all those shards of pain
And
You wrote of flowers
As I remembered
A field where a little boy walked
Hiding in tall grass from the world
Holding a pretty flower
Asking God what Love was
And why, and who, and when
And then there was a wind
G. N. Saville
Wednesday, 11. November 2009, 23:46:07
Slow silent winds calm me as the mists
Rise from your body into the sun
Changing so gently since, I was a child
Your trees always growing, as they twist
Searching for abandoned sunlight in the wild
I still in troubled minds, walk your shores
When I run, to remember, dreams I have held
Your moons rise though they appear still
Your surface hardens yet I feel no chill
When the sun reflects from your sleeping white
I remember shadows of blue in the night
And have found no nightmares in you
You hold the dreams of the Paleo People well
And their art and their tools in your sands
Concealing the past from present hands
Yet when I close my eyes, I see them through you
Awakened to…the lonely call of the Loon
As they dance their water dance at last
One stands erect to show a white chest
One flies low and borders all the rest
They all pair up then pair down, disappearing
Into a dark blue rippled water floor
Resurfacing, silently floating, dreaming
Waiting for the Mastodon, to answer, their call
G. N. Saville
Sunday, 8. November 2009, 00:50:04
And if you ever hear
The wind at your door
Just ignore
The windows winter shudder
Take your time
Walk as silent as your ancestors do
On every twig you break
Then listen
Listen for each and every heart
Like you
They will hold you
When it matters
And Damn it
It matters
G. N. Saville
Friday, 18. September 2009, 22:51:20
Oh, why aint you runnin
Amongst the midnight, chatter
And the timber wolves
Why did you wipe your face this morning
When the moon set
In silver pastel and long lone, howl
Then just loom there and colour
The valley this September
A darker shade…
Was your mirror
Missin an angel’s face
Left…lost behind somewhere
In lighter sin from faded footprint
When your weightlessness was won
From a burden falling…
It is sad now that the shadows are longer
When they lay there in the afternoon
So the eagle sees your pain
And the wind gathers it
Until it becomes endless
And can no longer be imagined
As a single fall of rain
G. N. Saville 2006
Friday, 11. September 2009, 23:23:36
You said it was not a moccasin
That stepped on our lady slipper
Living from the life of silent needles
Under that canopy of Red Pine
Where I was held by beauty and wisdom
In the early morning grass
You slipped so gracefully into your jeans
Laughing at my pants
Wet, covered in burs, saying we are the same
Unveiled amongst the dew attached to
The long wet grass
My unconscious envisioned a reality so
Different than my past
Yet when the judicious villagers said
You are not the same
Disillusioned, heartbroken and sad
I hung my name in shame
Now I wonder
As I dream your image back again
And remember
The way the wind touched your wild lovely skin
Why was there no way between us
That my mind could not find
As I lost my way, when you were not there
Coloured in rhyme
My soul forever banned, never to find
A love I shamed for a love of name
A rare flower
Within the solitude of stands of pine
G. N. Saville
Saturday, 22. August 2009, 22:17:58
I was searching for
Passion chants
Lamp lit-ten incogitable
Breathable unthinkable
Then she sang
As her crimson hair danced
Teasing, September’s trees
My mind became a gravel road
As her voice absorbed my soul
The dream so real
The shadows falling onto
All the places they belonged
It was no longer, so damn hurtin lonely
Inside the right side, of happiness hopeful
As I listened to charcoal
Distending to ember
Then to
Flaming wild, wild, fire
Her gestures so freely sown
Love so poetically shown
By fingers pressing rosewood
With, the tenderness, of strings
G. N. Saville (from 2005, I Think) and
Inspired by the music of Gillian Welch
Saturday, 15. August 2009, 20:42:03
The seas mind went dreaming in colour
Adulterating
As the high tide found her that summer
Sipping sand from the palm of her hand
She prayed a lot most nights
For the beaches had no blanket to cover
The eyes that stared to the skies
When she, offered sanity to the sun
She was unconquered
That woman on the island
Unashamed because of
The power of the sun
Whisky glassed
Were the
Barroom brawlers
That knelt before her then denied
Watching her shadow
As daylight slowed it down
The flames showed their faces
Amongst the beer boxes and trash that burned
And one said this is heaven
As the stars came down
To light the stairs
Than sifted their souls
Into graves
While they
Stared into the eyes
Of their Lord
And hollered
Please take us home
G.N. Saville February 27, 2009
Sunday, 9. August 2009, 02:22:16
He remembers teasing her
With live contraptions from the underbrush
Found near the dragon trails
Along the streams of the Qu’Appelle
She soon became…
Brighter than the moonlight
Softer than the shaggy moss
Pretty like the wildest flower
Reaching for the sun
Dancing
She danced on his lariat
Stretched between the horns
She danced in the prairie fires
As he galloped the roan
She twisted like a dust angel
Grasping all the hands
Touching every summers rose
Before they landed in the sand
She looked in every dreamy eye
With her smiling lips
Drawing admiring glances
With the beauty of her steps
They came from miles ‘round
To watch Milo’s gal dance
She always left them smiling
Saying damn! That gal can dance!
He still recalls, when she said Milo
I will always…
When you see the suns, brush twist
Above the valley mist
It is a dance for you
And when the moon lights the valley
She dances for him
Then they hold hands in the underbrush
And hide from the dragons
That haunt the valley Qu’Appelle
G. N. Saville
Friday, 31. July 2009, 23:35:39
Was that you outside of the crowd
Standing in the night
Pulling a crypt from the stars to fill
A glass for the evening
As your golden gown
Lifted your soul into the light,
From the hands of angels
Crying there, at your feet.
The chandeliers had shed their candles
Above the dancers.
And their death created silence
In the indifference of darkness
As their whispers melted
The icicles
Dripping from the wind.
Then your dress hugged your body
Only the defiant souls consoled your heart
And no one saw
That grave in the tears
As you bowed your head
In the dark.
G. N. Saville
April 14, 2008
Saturday, 25. July 2009, 15:53:57
She always sat back in wonder
When the moon seemed
To wash the window sill
Showing the fallibility
Of painting perfect
She had the vision
Never clung
To a factitious hell
She saved a dewdrop
That the petals caught
And placed it on a grave
Said, this will shade you
When your shelters worn
Because it’s originally from the sea
And I will be your mermaid
For you are really me
Yes dear, they were all there
Standing in a fountains basin
Handing down the moons
Anagogic pain
Picking out all the slivers
And trying not to cry
They loved you it seemed
They made a cake
And some preacher blessed it
Then said your name
I just stood in the drizzle though
I am still there today
Looking for a spirit hanging
From a reluctant mood
Waiting for a beginning
Waiting for a rain
G. N. Saville 2006
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