Ian Love Poet Verse

I Hear Them Now

images are slow to fade, where did they go? why were they here?
  pensive pen and ink, a gentle man of measure
  pipe-smoke wafting cool blue persevering pleasure
  cartoon humour designed with careful modest pride
  arm-in-arm soothing his war-time petulant bride
  oft-wiped canvas, woodland, moody misty scene
  roaming through pale paintings where her lost man has been
  merging ever always their special being; are they still near?

  old parental faces time-spun and woven under my skin
  memories upon memories, changing I, changing me
  stories upon stories pile up, changing they, changing we
  falsehood flailing, transition, turbulent knowing
  transcendence, my mind, your mind, all minds are growing
  we are mid-paced sampled brethren, thinking anew
  significance in what we say and what we do
  personalities on kindred journeys beyond kith and kin

  kick string-strung corporeal cans down the celestial street
  where the multi-dimensional membranes quiver
  where energy swims across the quantum river
  where slow light-speed traverses the nebula face
  where superpositions collapse with certain grace
  where fine bits of information feedback feeling
  where negentropy out-runs chaotic dealing
  pick soulful sounding song, counter-rhythmic orchestral beat

  sprung from the fundament, nothing always trumped by something
  prime numbers inflate unfolding untold troubles
  universal endurance, containment bubbles
  pushing, pulling fields, filaments of flexing shape
  veils warp and wrap around a wily cosmo-scape
  intelligent infant guises, gaining in-sight
  impressions crossing chasms to inform the night
  lives on holographic film, many melodies to sing

  I hear them now, voices blending the chords of man and wife
  I feel their presence, though they are forever changed
  I know they are transformed, molecules rearranged
  I share their warm substance, two people that mattered
  I care for their essence, they will not be scattered
  I record them in words, the library of thoughts 
  I sense they are near and far, few and many noughts
  I am listening out for them on the other side of life

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