Dave Rock's Blog (3)

Though there are torturers in this world

There are also musicians



from a poem by Michael Coady









A city that the sun has staked to the ground and dared to survive. A city that hums with the silent impact of thousands of rolling miles of sand waves washing round it.

A poet is woken in a woman’s bed, woken by the sound of her husband crashing his huge body against the door and roaring. The poet leaps from the window and goes flying across rooftops,… Continue

I’ve given birth to myself in muddy fields

Sweaty crowds dancefloors

Of Achilles heels

Open throats and eyes

Inky outcrops of rock

Slumping into the sea

Thinky fingerprint stained

Sheets of paper



I’ve

Been reborn as me

More times than there are names for god

There are monasteries devoted

To notating tabulating remembering

And celebrating my birthdates

My star charts expand in fractal arcs

Astrologically… Continue

I know this is very long and the attention span and patience seem to diminish online, but there's a lot of food for thought in it and I'd welcome any comments.





POETRY, VOICE AND POWER, INTENTION AND ATTENTION.



Human beings are born with voices, born with throats tongues mouths and ears, and a want and waste of words to try to capture or release what lies beneath them. Our voices are vessels, ships or kites which can catch something, some reflection, some shadow, of… Continue