Poems by Brooker Bertram Richard
breakfast
... foursaying nothingeatingfour bodies at the tablefour minds elsewherefour minds passing through walls and air and trees and men and women and through the bodies of horses and of birds and through rocksand leaping the length of a day's journeyin a momentoblivious of the collapsed spacein their pathand reversing the flow of timeputting latter things firstand first things at the endfree of dimensionnowhere attachedor rigidor taking up any roomor resisted by anythingand one presently comes back to where his body isand using his voicespeaksbut it doesn't matter what he says ...
hilltop
... who is that on the hilltopdrawing into himself the erect new rosy shafts of early sunthe sides of himand the straight calm angles of his faceare spangled with glorynew marchings are coming up the skynew spears of red sharp strength are clashing noiselessly in the broken and suddenly sighing airis he offering himselfbut he has nothingyou can see he has no possessionshimself he is offeringhis own worth as a beingand as a manand as a pool of quiet for the downshine of the sunand as an aspirerof stars ...
