41. Al-Jalil – Pooling Strength

Hopkins 'Glory be to God for dappled things -- 
For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow'

If I were forged
crystal - as my wineglass
in – and out – ward – light,
turning every coloured heart
- that would be a dream

with crimson swirls of wine,
of bubbling champagne,
of water purer – free from source,
empty, with no name;

no Will, no talk, no twaddle,
no arse about to waddle,
no mind cavorting on its pole,
no fear of death or growing old

and no associations, spun or leapt,
patient, still, and longing – and longing – longing -
to melt.

Daisy Cow

I had a moonlit dream

and asked myself if I’d be better

born a human - or a cow -

as if I could, like, choose my form:

to be honest I dunno

whether to become huge and simple, eat grass

24/7 - or bang on and on about the mortgage,

pension, kiddies, final blow.

All in all, today

I lean towards a munching low

and moo into my future,

knowing what’s of note;

a meadow, calves and parlor,

sun and quiet moon.