GC5YAYP ▼
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Tunnel Beach (1946) The waist-high sea was rolling Thunder along her seven iron beaches As we climbed down to rocks and the curved sand, Drowned Lyonesse lay lost and tolling Waiting the cry of the sun's phoenix From the sea-carved cliffs that held us in their hand. Forgotten there the green Paddocks we walked an hour before, The mare and the foal and the witch-tormented wood And the flaked salt boughs, for the boughs of flame were seen Of the first garden and the root Of graves in your salt mouth and the forehead branded fire. Through the rock tunnel whined The wind, Time's hound in leash, And stirred the sand and murmured in your hair. The honey of your moving thighs Drew down the cirrus sky, your doves about the beach Shut out sea thunder with their wings and stilled the lonely air. But O rising I heard the loud Voice of the sea's women riding All storm to come. No virgin mother bore My heart wave eaten. From the womb of cloud Falls now no dove, but combers grinding Break sullen on the last inviolate shore.
Rhadamanthus (1966 -67) Above the place of love The cliff was a high stone Rhadamanthus Washed by the black froth of the sea The Tunnel (draft 1966) …one vast face Like Rhadamanthus crowned with Toppling rocks, who is the myth Of judgement when love dies. Letter to Robert Burns (1963) Biology, mythology, Go underground when the bookmen preach, And I must thank the lass who taught me My catechism at Tunnel Beach; For when the hogmagandie ended And I lay thunder-struck and winded, The snake-haired Muse came out of the sky And showed her double axe to me. Since then I die and do not die. 'Jimmy,' she said, 'you are my ugliest son; I'll break you like a herring-bone.'
Tunnel Beach (2004) John Cargill flaunting his wealth preserved his daughters' Victorian modesty; Drove a tunnel with slippery steps; penetrating the rock to their bathing cove. So much digging for wetness and decency; did Cargill ever get his own joke? Pride and decency found the air sharp the cliffs stark naked the sea unimpressed. There was a judgement; a last day of walking up and on to the eternal city of antiquity and icecream. Rome`s a world away, decently clad in cut stone and occupancy; comfortably far from clawing ocean, raw cliffs, harsh gulls. At the foot of the Spanish Steps, beached in Miss Babington's shop, they sell icecream to tourists who gather like Dominican gulls.
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A|B|C|D|E|F|G|H|I|J|K|L|M ------------------------- N|O|P|Q|R|S|T|U|V|W|X|Y|Z
(letter above equals below, and vice versa)
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