Thursday, April 12, 2007

Amsterdam, 10 years, two months ago

By Adam Gibson ©

ten years and

two months ago
i gripped a bunk bed
in an amsterdam hostel,
not far from where i sit right now,
anxiety attacking my head
hysterical on some dope,
a bad kenyan blend
that spelt the end
of my psyche as

i had known
it until

a new
full of endings,
had started to begin.
the next few years saw

my father die and saw me go
through a purgatory that brought me
face-to-face with the endlessness of the
middle of the night, the feeling of certainty
that i would soon die too, the searching for peace
that would allow me to sleep, the breaking of a

heart that broke and ruined mine to break.
those were days of lost 3am mornings,
evenings when static electricity
zapped in the dry and clear

winter air, the haze gone
all the way to the

Blue Mountains
and the

tv aerials
to the west in

perfect crisp purity,
straight and jagged lines
calling out for their desperate

connection to some bigger picture
that would turn lives and days

onward and carve out a
meaning from the
cold nights
and my own aerials

were searching for such
connection too because winter
down under on side of the world
- denigrated by the online majority
because it falls at the wrong time of year,
according to the scraping masses of the northern

hemisphere, who believe they own july and august
exclusively and who laugh at our quaint freezing and
strange christmases in the sun – came in and i

shivered more than i'd ever shivered in
Europe, living in Karpy's flat on
Brighton Boulevard near the
bar heater, cricket on tv
beaming from England
or elsewhere and the
Roosters still doing
as badly in
the footy

as ever.
the parallels

with now are many –
same love delusions,
same writing aspirations,
same lack of money, same fact
that tonight i am gripping the bed
with a spinning head and the same fact
that the roosters are doing just as badly
as ever upon my likely return to place of home.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Loving the "pattern poems" gibbo.

looks like a tree and is one of your nicest works