Spirit Meditation

I saw my spirit in the sea

that spirit would not come with me

‘I do not walk on earth’, said she

I turned my back and searched.

I joined my spirit in the sand

that spirit would not take my hand

Said ‘I dont stay long where I land’

I folded up my arms and searched.

I heard my spirit in the sky

that spirit would not tell me why

nor how her soul had come to fly

I dared not jump but on I searched.

I touched my spirit in the flame

another I had hoped to tame

it scorched my dream but never burnt

I sat in search of what I’d learnt.

I rocked my spirit to and fro
In boughs where fear had come to grow
Though all the while my spirit sang
I only heard the Shadowman.

I asked the Blue Boy 'bout that song
To find I'd known it all along
Thought spirits chorused by the sea
I never heard till I swam free.

My spirit found me on my own

asked me to tell what I’d been shown

and there we sat, without a clue

I don’t no where but how we flew.

Hollows Song

I call out from my 
hollow to say 
good night and

tickle your jolly till

you fall over yourself to

ask me many things 
more times and over

I call for all of this 
and more, 
to your hollow

chorus

I will not speak of love

I will not speak of sores

I will not speak of Paris

nor any other girls

but my hollow will resound

as a whisper at night

if you wish it so

tho you may not come through 
with the goods in the end

and i may be right to flee

all hope may seem hollow

but my call will not be

I fill your hollow up

tell you who it is I miss

not just the body of you but

the free man

the laughing man

the silly certain man and many things 

more times and over

so sure of himself

sure he’s under cover in that

hollow of his

and what I think of your freedom?

it's as a lonely plait

down the back of 
some girl’s dress

in the midsummer

too long ago can't recall

was it St Tropez where you lost it?

was it on the hill? in that cabin

as a boy?

i will not speak of that either

chorus

I will not speak of love

I will not speak of sores

I will not speak of Paris

nor any other girls

but my hollow will resound

as a whisper at night

if you wish it so

mid 8

now we have found our

secret hollows

many dreams are lost

at least the bells of Dame

still ring there

though not of our love

not even to ply from you 
your fears

nor ask whether you have

soared such heights since we last

threw the covers off

not of paris

nor any place you yearn for more

nor the bells of the Dame

as they ring out 
your name

oh you 
hollow 
hollow 
heart

who are you ringing for?

© 2005 Rebecca Rennie

Down At the Station in Paris

the roman gypsies get hauled down

to the station with

a guele & a little ratty

case of the pick

but the Texans get their own receiver

down at the station

at last there’s a cactus language

they can understand

as the fox wraps its way around

the show-pony’s shoulders
it's off

to the station we go

with the desperate down & dirty

alligator in his pocket

there’s something for every toad

to report

and though all the charm in the dame

comes to nought

there’s no harm in trying it on

that’s the racket they run

down at the station

© 2005 Rebecca Rennie

On The Mend

on the mend

my bed has your scent

laid out ‘long side your memory

it is simple

& beautiful

they sleep well there

but memory is safer than

the true body you

and nothing is 
solid 
as it seems

chorus

i can see you are

not quite breakable

but you can fold

and you can bend

there’s a tear here or there

a ripple on the surface of you

but not quite broken

you’re on the mend

i’d dive in

make a splash

but i resist the urge

to wrangle about with the

qualities that crack you

I’d take them all on

pin them down

but i don’t know my way

around

you

yet

that veil you cloak over

that soft boy of you

to the core i can see through

you drive a hard bargain

and it only gets tougher

so i keep my

edges on

sharpen my tongue

don't give 
too much away

and sure enough 
in the end

all said all done

and you beg 
for me to stay

chorus

you’ll see how

neither one is breakable

but we can fold

and we can both bend

there’s a tear here or there

a ripple on the surface of us

but not quite broken

we’re on the mend

© 2005 rennie

I Crack Myself Up

I crack myself up over

how I cracked up

over you

I crack myself up

these days

before my temper

gets a chance to

crack something

I get in there first

I crack myself up

since you stopped pressing

the very buttons you

once adored

it all cracks me up now

I drop the grater

I say, Great!

Funny girl I say to myself

and crack up

You see how

I crack myself up

these days?!

© Rebecca Rennie 2005 (Completed 2012)

Insomnia ***(favourite)

please poem
do not come now
away! down! rise with the sun!
let me be.

you turn up now
despite the dark &
these brick lids,
to suck me out of my
bouyant raft where
I would rather float off
than go under with you.

you cry,
like the unfed child i never.
you want milk ink -
you want it now -
you will wail in my head
till I lift you soft from
your cot, my heart.

i would orphan you
at once if i could

where precisely do you sleep? within which ravine of my soul?
let me find the spot and
put you back there.
am I mad there? am I stale?
tell me about me.

and about that sculptor -
you his sub-pilot too? nagging at him of a weary night
till his hands take off like mine?
do you ruddy pummel at his core until
he rises to the throng to
be done with it – you?

alright, you win
if one must carve
one must.
you lurking chunk of rock
waiting there in the
mildewy recess of consciousness,
you catch me offguard every time.

there
are you out now?
may i go? you had your way with me you
mysterious organism –
soul-fired, you feed off me, you little animal.

you are born, bled and fed.
you are done, now let me go.
but wait, i hear another one
don’t tell me you brought friends?

 © Rebecca Rennie 2000 (Edited 2012)

Once We Were

Once you were 
My forbidden treasure

Once you were 
Just there

Once you were
A lot of things
Once you were
More or less

We let go 
all that though
Didn’t we?

Or did we?

Once you were

So many things

Once i wasn't
Quite myself

Once you were
Trying very hard
To make things right
But i wasn't 
was i?

Or did i?

© Rebecca Rennie 2009