over
there
Postcard Sometimes I see in the sky endless beaches
covered with nations of every hue.
Transparent flags wave
in the morning wind,
and I am away.
There is a moving collage that beckons,
and without a second thought I lift up my head,
close my eyes, and dream
a million tiny speres.
A distant sea approaches, and recedes.
Breath is immaterial.
This moment transcends all others.
//content//
Year after yearimages encrust,forming alluring skins.Eyes are glazed with paint,immersed in placesthat I did not create.
When I leave the earthI will knowthe colour of death.And after chafing my hands on rocksto uncover the texture of their pain,I'll wrap them intissues of quotations,whispering their many voices.
There will be no fanfarewhen the secret substance of griefbegins to infiltrate my being,only fragments of despairtorn from another space.
For centuriesghostly waveshave moved throughmy island,calling me names,suffocating my beauty,razing my appearance to nothing.But at the moment of dissolution,when every molecule of my remembrancesurrenders,the shroud will diminish,andante.
Separatingwill mean being leftwith onlyashes and air,certain angles of self,and the disintegration of surfaces. Touch,
desire,
intuit,
go.
Diane Caney, 1996
These poems were first published in EXHIBITION NEWSLETTERNo 29 which accompanied Jonathan Barnard's exhibition Green, 15February - 5 March, 1996, at the Dick Bett Gallery, Salamanca Place, Hobart,Tasmania. They are arranged in the same sequence in which they were presentedin that publication.