Author Archives: Damian Garside

DRIFTED

DRIFTED

drifted so far
from my
original position

passed the souls of a genocide
thousands of them
in a line
   waiting for something
as if
   put here on hold
stored for
the meanwhile
        pegged out to dry

and me
    even in this state
left to speculate what
calamity it might have been
to so
    overstretch resources
exhaust established facilities

leave them in
     this condition where

newcomers
might see

drifted so far
              so very far
from my original position

no hope now
of ever being found, let
         alone kindly received

POETS; LOVERS

POETS: LOVERS

poets, lovers
do not
   write to each other

there is nothing
that the pen
     might not
misconstrue

the text
      ripples, extends
finds
ever widening-spirals

and there it is
          wrong dot on
the page

that universe of distance
bursting forth, already
in its
    moment of forever expand

EXACTLY AT THIS POINT

EXACTLY AT THIS POINT

left my mind
on the helter skelter

and you
first Dan, halfdan, third
Dan
whatever Dan you are

rollercoaster father
    smirking sublimely
heavens of cloud
light and dark cloud
above me

and she
who I wanted, needed
so much at
that moment
MJM of the shapely legs
and thighs
crashing into me at top
speed perversely
has anyone ever
received such a thrilling smack
in a dodgem bumper car

and the theorists speculating
on the nature of carnival
hum
   a good tune
talk a good liberation

and falling in line
        (such a
ragged line)
with every compadre
of that persuasion

I wanted to
go guttural
     get down and dirty
be
  the sublime poet of
the sewer if only
for a brief
moment
        outdoing the inimitable
Charles, universal stereotype
of this poet

Oh helter skelter
must be
     a surreal repetition
to have
that guy Manson
sweep back
    into fashion

and me
     at the pinnacle of the
rollercoast exactly at
         this point

PILGRIMAGE

PILGRIMAGE

skimming
our coastline

trawling
deep

sooner or later
they discover
our poetry

stumble across
that great outlier
that is
Ingrid Jonker

are captivated by
her sharpness, passion,
fierce emotional
honesty
and intensity

and yet
whenever I find myself
at the place she drowned,
marked by
her tiny, sun and sea
spray
battered monument

I get no sense of this
in wildest dreams
ever
a place
of pilgrimage

LEFT TO SAY


LEFT TO SAY

since she
is
   goddess,
divine

it would have to be
mortal Adonis
to make the sacrifice
to tell their story

get
  those beautiful,
painful words
upon the page

and there it was, their
love saga
     captured forever
magnificent creation

and there Adonis lying
finally in the arms of grieving          Aphrodite

mission accomplished, nothing
more for him left to achieve
nothing more
        left to say