Statue Songs

Poems by Richard Collins

Illiterate

whispering fingers
through the dewy grass
thumbing too fast
through pages that sing
beneath the skin

eyeblinking time, counted nine
fingers and eleven crows
like heavenly hands sleeping
nestled against this skinny vest
that keeps the dust off
the blank pages of my life


Mute

Snuffleluffagus show me how
Hands on your eyes like butterflies to think
My time stands still
Schools of fish in blue beneath my feet
I cannot speak


Blind

Open peach sing on flyaway sun
Laugh your crazy laugh to rising air
Run away, that’s why, remember why
I glide. Mother earth loves me to fight
Tickle diamonds sparkle in your eyes
You can’t see and neither can I


Invisible

They can’t see you flower and wonder at all!
I wonder what they see.
I see you sit down, see you smile, see you walk, see you sing, always running, catch me wondering.
I see you and I suppose that is all
Because you can’t see me flower and wonder at all


Inaudible

Hiding behind the clouds, behind the rain, behind the trees
Silent when the world is opening up
On an endless plain
On a sleeping city
Pausing between all the rushing moments
Whispering to the horizon when the wind has dropped


Another day

An other day run away perfectly mute now I have found that I can speak, just not to the wind, its gone for good. Quiet in the morning, if everyone knows, or if no one knows, I just don’t know, world not revolving round me you know. Time for a cup of tea, what do you see? Your face looks blank, like mine, eating a scone, the world is pausing in this moment, thank god for repetition, that way there is something, not just nothing always falling into the past, which is oblivion. Grunt in the outpatient department. I don’t care. Everybody is pausing. I feel myself coming back to me, and all the imaginary stuff is gone away, something happened, I am quiet, I am blank, I am waking up blank, and deaf, in my eye, the light feeling of the sun. What are you going to do? Who are you going to be? Where are you going to live? And who is going to be there, or not be there, with you?

Another day, pause to think of yesterday, possibilities, what did you see? Maybe didn’t see me, maybe did see me but thought I didn’t see you, maybe half saw me and half stamped on purpose, hope you got a little thrill. What was your buzz? What is your today? Maybe happy out not seeing me still, never saw me. Maybe bemused seeing that I saw you. Maybe sad seeing that I saw, hardly! Your face didn’t look so happy but could be any reason. I do not exist, deaf and tiny in your eye, you sneeze and I am gone…………………..

Another day, no more time to pause, rush now to the sun, quick or its too late to burn, no more kissing air near your lips. I am off the hook. No, no more time to even think that there is no more time. This is goodbye, not hello-goodbye, this is goodbye-goodbye, like I never said hello, which I didn’t. I saw you, fell in love, and said goodbye. No time to regret, nothing to regret, memories. No time standing still, no liquid flowing motion or floating statue dancing. You can’t show me how, you have nothing to show me, no hands on your eyes like butterflies, your hands do not exist, and if they do then they hold only scones. There are no schools of fish in blue beneath my feet, only carpet in the canteen, or formal paving stones that will blot out a smile so efficiently.


Richard Collins lives in County Cork, Ireland and can be contacted here.