Month: July 2015

From Blueness

~ distilledvoice ~ Leave a comment

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Sea born rhythms
Arrive in blueness pulse
After blueness pulse,
And where the shallows
Show in pale shoals
And the globes of stones
Glow egg-like and shimmering,
The waves rise troubled
And breathe the air
To the new azure
Of their turbulent lungs,
Curling and introvert
In their wet work
Until the almost perfect
Curve of the rolling surf
Slips from the form and balance
Of its clothes
And seeks abandon
In bubble
And white water surge:
All its energy fragmented
And absorbed
In the froth and melee
Of interface.

© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015.

Mottisfont Brown Trout

~ distilledvoice ~ Leave a comment

Lazy in the shallow stream,
Silken bellies tickling
The golden gravel.
Heads toward clarity
And clean new
Flush of gills,
Absorbent and capturing.
With but a gentle pulse
To keep stillness,
The shoal mimics
The sinusoidal weed,
In greens scribing wellings
And turbulence
Fingering the sinuous flow:
And leisurely,
They face forever
And the sweet taste
Of always coming,
Always there,
Always flowing,
Always there,
And the tranquil
Cool beginnings
In every moment.

© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015.

Bees Are Litmus To The Land

~ distilledvoice ~ Leave a comment

Bees are litmus to the land.
In their contentment
Is our milk
And sustenance,
For they are single minded
In nature’s plan
Of balance in the gathering:
Their Society
For the benefit of all within,
And kin and neighbours too
Are thus glad
For their best harvesting.

Bees are litmus.
They speak now
About man
On Earth.

© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015.

Late Afternoon At The Beach

~ distilledvoice ~ Leave a comment

Late afternoon
Refracts and alters
The sea from blue-scape
Of cool, dark wandering,

To a surface of captured sea-light,
Spliced by wave flux
To an oscillating multitude
Of angles:

And from it rises haze
In subtle smudge
And salt puff,
Driven above the surge,

Ascending as the outer edge
Of the visible wave,
To high spirit
And fine distillate

Of seawater ether,
Energised beyond
Dense form
And made buoyant

On air’s
Much lighter,
Transitory
Substance.

© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015.

Night After Sunshine

~ distilledvoice ~ 2 Comments

I walk barefoot
And feel the sun’s memory
In kiss of warm concrete.
And then to the cool grass
To which I feel the earth’s body,
Lumpy and imperfect
But encompassing
The gentlest hug.
And there
I perceive personality
In night-sweet
And night-flush,
The scently gush of roses
Dripping the pollen of their love,
Feeding nocturnal bug and drab
Moth alike, just as butterflies of day’s
Light take their nourishment.
For the dark is full of giving
And the rose seeks no commitment
But gives
To all those wishing
To sip the nectar of its life,
Knowing them as equals
In the wholeness
Of the wholesome day and night.

© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015.

Delicate Grass

~ distilledvoice ~ Leave a comment

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Delicate species:
So light and feathery
In the air
With filamentous thoughts
To touch the breeze
And call from it music
And the swishing
Of sibilant verse:
Its delicate fingers
To the wind’s instrument,
To feel and disperse
And cast its seed-spec progeny.

© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015.

Dedicated to Emma Bullet https://emmabullet.wordpress.com

Where The Poem Is Found

~ distilledvoice ~ 2 Comments

In the flutter-eyed trance
Of scent moods,
And in the gland of salivation
And sensation:
Like snake-tongued
Understanding of the air around,
The taste of unseen elements
From beyond the earthly realm:
To the hither of the after-ever
And where-ever
Of information in its purest form,
Sensed in electricity
Or a substance
Quite like it.

© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015.