My poetry was composed between the years 1972-2012 CE, and is of varying quality. Having recently undertaken the onerous task of re-reading those poems that I still have copies of, there are in my view only around a dozen that I now consider may possibly be good enough to be read by others. These poems have been collected together as a pdf file (c. 143 Kb), below.

Relict – Poems by David Myatt

David Myatt
2011 CE


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I Am Only Memories Now

 

Waiting
For such warm joy
As brings the clear blue skies
Of Spring
When we, the remembering, no longer
Have to hunker ourselves down
Through bleak grey
Winter.

Yesterday – warm Sun
A sea-side bench
As weekend tourists
Passed:
Such warmth for such a while
That all living became
Nexion of sky, sea, Sun and sand
There
To foster such knowing
As  suffering
Piled thousand year upon thousand year
So that escaping rain made tears
There where one man of greying beard and hair
Rested.

But vigorously endures Temptation –
That already-decided daughter of unbearable Misfortune.
And all remedies are in vain.

For I am only memories now –
Life
Waiting
For one more supposed begin
Imagined beyond
This one more mortal
Death.

 

David Myatt
2455571.079


One Moment, Moving

A slight breeze
To curl the waves, a little,
Where this now calmer Sea
Stretches
Below blue
And some annoying flies
Bite the hand that writes.

For it is warm
For end-September
Keeping Summer the way I keep
My loves, remembering:
Stretched and taut with such a slender filament
Connecting them to Life
As the fragile body hazing my horizon
Now so slendly hangs between dark Space
And the blue-green-brown
Of Earth.

I am only this, here –
One moment merging to another
For empathy overcomes:
No cold Thought to spoil by abstractions
The way the factory bolt despoils the lamb.
So much wasted so often
I have no measure to measure-out
The blame
For I am falling, fallen
Having failed myself so often:
No stories, text, to capture such a loss
Of both empathy and love.

For I am only this, here – Oystercatchers catching
Where sea greets sand
And the waning Moon still glows, a little,
As on that night

When the distant lighthouse pulsed in darkness
And the sea sounds under stars sent their calls
Down deep down into greeny-blackness
As if some unknown entity of the deeps
Was here, there,
Listening, waiting, lurking
Unprofaned still by the hubris
We mis-name Discovery.

For it is not right to give names
To some things

Now, I am this, here – where only stiffness
Numbness thirst hunger age
Remind one moment
To move

 

David Myatt
2010 CE