Excerpt from Ballade

     second movement

I had a dream

that the fire should be kept going

that I was alone in the world

that I had to do it alone

hoping someday someone would assist me

& to keep the fire alight

I had millions of matches

all the matches in the world 

were piled behind me

like the great Chinese wall

curving over the horizon

& I threw matches at the fire

to keep it burning

& I used up the matches

I went further and further to get them

& I did it

I ran back and forth along the wall

bringing matches

& I didn't eat

I didn't sleep

I drank nothing

in the dream I went on forever

keeping the fire alight

till somebody came

then there were arguments  

about the procedure

to be followed

*

broken sound fall on stone

from the waste pipe above

water splashes

sound of separation

of distance between objects

between the noise of things

an essential silence

of movement

                      of limbs

(

before   light   dark

at the center towards which

air swirls   is warmed

falls back   re-enters

and always before that

warmth

light

air

then dust brought

then warmer   faster

then breeze   wind

darkness

)

in my beginnings

were wind myth

myth carnal

bee rhythms

stem sway

wing fall

organic mulch 

feeds the sycamore trees

but one wing

wing of myth

with bones    joints

a thumb

let go

forego

the primates thumb

indulge in chimerical inconabulum

breeze

sway 

touch 

all pollinate me

but my species?

hostile

since my beginnings

*

& always a dangling sleeve

that touched the table brushed the table

in one movement a beard pointed Cortez

aware of attention   eyes lifted above ocean

eyes piercing white sclera

wind drilling the pupil

scratch of ivory on bone...

then movement again

piano keys tinkling

nails tapping trills on the ivory

before the music of the song

five lines danced in a wide void

the hub of a chorus of voices

gouged a groove in tunnel walls

nothing ever appeared in the octave

save eight shredded eels

& the fumes of a gill

such does the loom unweave

conversation talk down the wall

talk each brick back to the pile

in freshness of silk falling

silk billowing

in lichen moist on the windowframe

uninvolvement

like an uncoiled spring

meaningfullness

the whole dividing

halves multiplying

& the swimming organisms

heads talking above fluid things

& always a dangling sleeve

sleeve sinking

silk billowing

& that moist emanence of closely approached odor

the chemicals of low volatility

which may not be smelt from far off

Dick Russell(C) Richard M Russell

                2024

The full poem was published by Chapman

Vol. III.  No. 4 Dick Russell Issue

Edinburgh 1975