open the gate

8/22/2019 Open the Gate

1/21

OPEN THE GATE

bits and pieces of poems and songs by E. J. Ward


2/21

Open the gateOr leave the gate openLet the stranger inThe loitererThat shambling man ashamedSlack-jaed !ntenanted ith vacant eyes.

"!t do not pity himOr eary him ith rit!als#e knos yo!r heart$a!ges the circ!lation of yo!r bloodSenses the rhythm of yo!r brain%nd !nderstands here yo!r needs end.

Only he sees itho!t compassion

&mplacable' itho!t j!dgement or comp!nctionSees the dark tides resonate and glo$linting and breaking as the spirit fo!nders"roken(ismembered(isconnected(one.

Jo!rney)s end is lovers) meetingOpen the gate

Open the gate and let the stranger in.

* * *

The grief about living in cities is so great&t presses yo! into poetry

Like the thorn pressed into the breast of the nightingale.

& fo!nd &)d p!t the poems in a bol -%s an offering perhaps+So no & s!ppose & m!st set fire to them.

* * *


3/21

Oh Sir I can read and write%nd & come from a good home"!t & don)t kno hat leads to hatOr hy things happen.

& ent to school Sir

%nd & learnt abo!t #eat Light and So!nd"!t hen the s!n dips its pencil in the ater& kno nothing.

Sir & have an internal comb!stion engineWith an anti-thief device%nd a handbook Sir to tell me ho it orks'"!t & don)t kno the point of my comings and goings%nd the reason for my jo!rneys.

& don)t kno here & am going Sir.

Sir & go in thro!gh the door marked &,%nd & come o!t thro!gh the door marked OT%nd & do not park on do!ble-yello lines"!t & am filled ith shame at my rong-doings Sir%nd & don)t kno hat & have done rong.

%nd Sir the eyes of ne-born babies are f!ll of faith'!ll of faith and e/pectation

"eca!se they come from a good home and tr!st !s'They tr!st !s ith their lives.

* * *

The Archangel Gabriel cae to ! bed one night"reathing bliss.%nd & kne that he had to be an %ngel alright"eca!se of this

Light that he had%nd this golden to!ch%nd a voice that said 0(o not look too long or yo! ill see too m!ch.1

%nd then his ings clapped like bones broken%s if to shoThat %rchangels never speak of love.%nd & as even more sorry for the ords !nspokenor no & kno

That he as not the %rchangel $abriel sent from above"!t another %ngel called L!cifer come from belo.& ill remember him so.


4/21

"isten for the essages"!t not too hardOr all yo! ill hear is the so!nd of yo!r listening.

The moment does speak2omentarily

&f yo! try to catch it' it is goneSee+ The air is empty.

When yo! are doing something elseWashing !p or cleaning the bathThe moment speaks.&t is good to ash !p and clean the bath.

The bird sings in the tree.

Where the bird sat is spaceWhat the bird sang is silence,evertheless the bird sings.

Love is like this 3 total%nd see+ 4o!r arms are empty.,evertheless love is totalLet it go.

* * *

In the wide s#! at high tideThe red s!n on a string of fire"!rns into the ater.

%nd the clo!ds sing as the fire diesor the croned king of the high skies(rons in sla!ghter.

%nd his knife bleeds for its aching homeor the cries of grief and the pain to comeor the tearing skin and the screaming bone.

%nd hen his knife comes the flesh e/pects it%nd the pain is aiting to begin%nd hen his night comes the day has left it%nd the darkness is aiting to close yo! in.

"!t that is the joy of the globe of fire%nd that is the peace of the singing sea%nd the thr!sh that sings on the steeple spire sings for thee.

* * *


5/21

The first thing was the relativeWho)d come to stay in my attic flatWith a vie of ho!setops and the evening sky.

Then came the candle lighting it' creating it'

%gainst the tilight and the relativeWho)d bro!ght the ine hich' as she said'J!st hit the spot.Then came the "eethoven 5!artet hich hit it harder%nd the ra onions & had added' 6hy+7'To a potato dish'Which h!rt the throat b!t not as m!ch as "eethoven.

%nd at that moment on the evening sky

% clo!d like a potato%nd%n aeroplane hich moved across it%ndJ!st like that' a flashing light'"!t not an aeroplane' no no a star4es really 8en!s flashing like a plane6& looked thro!gh my binoc!lars.7

So "eethoven p!shed thro!gh the candlelight'

%nd h!rt the throatThe starThe onion%nd the relative.This is hat & anted to tell yo! of."!t & s!ppose & as dr!nk really.

* * *

I would li#e to be a an in a chec# suit laughing9olling o!t of the p!b like an a!ctioneer9!ddy cheeks%nd into a green ord :ephyr ith his mates.

;erhaps he thinks& o!ld like to be a istf!l-looking omanSitting on the grass ith her dog

Eating chicken


6/21

It sees I a soebod! else$The flare of recognition siftly dies,ot to embarrass the T8 g!r! or pop star or minor royalty that & am"eca!se people kno me.

% shy !neasiness masks admiration

This is appropriate of co!rse - & merit it"!t onder Who do they think & am+Of co!rse they do not kno%nd dreading the helpless panic in their eyes0&t)s alright1 & say 0(on)t orry it)s only me0&)m a dopple-ganger. & look like famo!s people.1

The thing is & think & may "E somebody else. %s ell.& can admit this itho!t fear of the men in hite coats

"eca!se recent st!dies of s!batomic particles;rove mathematically that &)m living a parallel life,o. Somehere else.2any lives in fact. (o the maths.

& haven)t done the maths"!t & kno it to be tr!e beca!se & have !ne/pectedlySt!mbled into another life and lived it one spring morning% free=ing shoer of spring-ater on my mo!ntainsideShocked me into a parallel !niverse and & as another me

%nother boring old me e5!ally an/io!s and aare"!t p!tting the ashing o!t rather than taking it in so to speak.&t as !nsettling to come back - like coming back from a dream0&t)s alright1 & tho!ght 0&t)s only 5!ant!m physics0,ot a schi=ophrenic episode.1

%nd it)s not as bad as the 8et ho p!t don my old border-collie.& remarked as & felt its s!dden liberation

The ecstatic r!sh of a dog let off the leashThat it as hard to believe in (eath.0Oh really+1 said he 0& find it hard to believe in Life.0To me it)s all a dream. &)m dreaming it.1

So apparently the somebody else that & am as ell&s really a figment of this man)s imagination%long ith my collie.

&)m pro!d of this 0,OT 2E ,OT #E9E ,OT ,OW1&t seems &)ve achieved the :en state of (hyana.

* * *


7/21

The wa! it wor#s is%&f yo! live on the flight-path'% blackbird akes a sleeping j!mbo-jet%nd thro!gh the crashing passage of the dan raid% thread of gold glints in the roaring morning>

This is the story storyOf Glory AgogoThe great grandfeatherOf my great grandfather featherLong agogoWho said Get to the top bitAnd sit on itAnd ddle with it

And twitch it a bitThats itGet the feel of it, feel it feel itThats the ticketStick with itit it a bit!ow let the leaf see it!ow let the twig see itThats it thats it, yo"re getting itLet it slipSlip it a little#eel it slippingSlip slip sleep sleep

%nd yo! go back to sleep in a dan reeling ith carolling airliners.

* * *

"eave the roo ept!Open doors and indos to birdsongragments of other people)s lives9adios and fried fish fingers% baby)s %rmageddon and a dr!nk at tether)s end.These are yo!r g!estsLeave the room empty&nhabited

%nd ait.

* * *


8/21

&hen the "ittle 'eraid cut off her tailTo be ith the man she lovedShe said to have h!man feetWas like alking on broken glass.

"!t at every step the pain reminded her

Of an act of love%nd so she loved him more.

* * *

He sat over there and I sat here

%cross the gleaming coffee-tableStaring thro!gh the roses and champagnero=en' an Egyptian moment.%bove all he as here at last'#ere in this room'Weaving his legendary spell.

&t as most serio!s this b!siness'&t co!ld be the making or breaking of !s'ear as o!r friend' and circ!mspection'

or m!ch h!ng in the balance.Time as o!r friend too -o!rteen years e)d aited for this moment'This Egyptian frie=e -,o need to h!rry.,o e co!ld take o!r time.

We did.&t as too long' a fat!o!s interl!de'

#is roses and champagne irrelevant.Where as the passionate pilgrim of his so!l+% sober matron' middle-aged and kind#oped he as doing ell'?noing in her heart that he as not'?noing her eyes ere sad' her body tired';!tting o!t the bottle ith the empties'%nd hoping he)d had the money for the roses.

* * *


9/21

He(s a last ditch an and his resistance is high%#is body)s almost finished b!t he)ll never say die'#is handicap)s don b!t his blood-press!re)s !p'%nd he gets the knee-tremble hen he starts to p!tt.#e co!ld be a s!rgeon' he co!ld be a j!dge'#e co!ld even be a bishop' it doesn)t matter m!ch'

#e)s a dying breed along ith the panda%nd he sips a gin-and-tonic on the golf-cl!b veranda.

* * *

In this roo

Where strangers met and to!ched and atchedThe paint arch from that damp patch on the all'"reathing in f!mes of gas and mo!ld and silence 3&n this room & am free.

Who fed the meter last' the happy banging fire+Who spilt that $!inness on the floor%nd then as sick over there by the settee+

This room

Stained ith the tides of others) livesLicenses me to live%lone' !nb!ttoned and !ncorseted.&t holds my silences' my tho!ghts'%nd sometimes too yo!r happy eyes' lit' yo!ng and la!ghing.4o!ng. Too yo!ng.Oh hen & see yo!r eyes & fear a ar.

;regnant' this room e/pects

%n event.%ttentive' spec!lative&t hopes for action.& fear e ill not disappoint it.

* * *


10/21

)Their toes Their toes+ cried God%0Oh look at their pointed toes0Streaming behind them in the ind 30&t c!rls me !p@0&t breaks my heart to see their feet'

0Their m!d-slapping' addling' m!cky feet0Their dirty' orkaday' p!rpose-b!ilt feet'0olded to points for the jo!rney.0%t the front end all straining and stretching and heaving'0%ll rasping and groaning and honking ith effort0or the tho!sands of miles ahead 30or the great migration of their so!ls . .0"!t look at their feet@1

0$ive him a raise1 said $od.0$ive him hatever he ants.0&)m o!t of to!ch' hat do they ant these days'0(esigning angels+0,e ings+0$ive him ne ings for $od)s sake'0$ive him hatever he ants 30Oh no' don)t tell me0& kno hat he ants 30#e ants seet feet that fold hen he flies

0Seet pink feet that point behind him0;ointed like folded fans0;ointed like ballerinas0To break my heart0To make me cry0O#@ There they go again in their tho!sands 30Look at their feet@ Their pointed toes@0Oh look at their feet . . . . @1

* * *


11/21

The child is dancing% loo# at her feet#aving advent!res o!t in the s!n.Look at her hands and look at her hair'#er smiles are given to everyone.

"!t me & cry for the days gone byor a time & have never knon.or the scattered limbs of my !nborn childWho lies in his bed alone.

The child is eeping' look at her heartLying !ntended o!t in the rain'Look at her stoop and look at her searchor the love she has lost' for the child that is slain.

"!t me & la!gh at the sallos) cry%t the barn-ol)s famo!s story& flap my ings hen the c!rle sings%nd dance in the fields of glory.

* * *

So now ! crison other the 'oon

Lies dead in her bed and bleeding'%nd the sky is f!ll of heartless starsLike daisies all !nheeding.

"!ry the pain and b!ry the deadLet the ise bird singThe river shall ash o!r sins aay%nd yo! shall be my ?ing.

So no my sla!ghtero!s father the s!n&s striding across the desertWith a clash of iron to mark his ay%nd d!st and ashes for breakfast.

"!ry the pain and b!ry the deadLet no tears be seenThe dogs and children come o!t to play%nd & shall be yo!r A!een.

* * *


12/21

I was a aid when the old goat stra!ed%nd & gave him a long long rope,o the old goat)s dead that once & led%nd &)ve nothing to lead b!t hope."!t & o!ldn)t go back' no & o!ldn)t go back'

& o!ldn)t go back again 3Bos &)ve shot my bolt and it gave me a jolt%nd & don)t ant any more pain.

& as a child hen the cos ran ild%nd & sho!ted to egg them on,o the cattle are tame that kne my shame%nd &)m singing a different song."!t & o!ldn)t go back' no & o!ldn)t go back'

& o!ldn)t go back again 3Bos &)ve had my fling and it left a sting%nd & don)t ant any more pain.

So &)ll stoke my fire and &)ll bar my door%nd &)ll boil me an egg for my tea'%nd yo! may be a rich man yo! may be a poor"!t yo! on)t get nothing from me.Bos & o!ldn)t go back' no & o!ldn)t go back& o!ldn)t go back again 3

Bos &)ve had a lark and it)s left its mark%nd & don)t ant any more pain.

* * *

The line of birds is a sil#en scarflying into the s!nWhy do & cry hen the ild geese fly%nd hooked to their pink path

ollo the stretched thread on its jo!rneyOver the gilded sky+

& feel the hard air on my cheek%nd the cold scent of the river%nd their cry is rasping in my throat%s their ings break the back of inter.

Over the brittle trees they go

%nd something is gone for ever.

* * *


13/21

Sa! Goodb!e to the even fields% say $oodbye to the sc!dding skies'Say $oodbye to my gentle friends ith ayard feet and moony eyesBheing the c!d the seet grass yields' say $ood bye to the b!tterflies.

Say $oodbye to the tank of darkness' fro=en night and the atching stars'Say $oodbye to the ho!rs of gladness'Searing noons and the s!mmer madness'The lonely atch of the s!nset ho!rs.

Say $oodbye to the so!nds of morning' sopping grass and the cries of man'The pheasant)s screech and the blackbird)s arningO!t of the copse here the c!ckoo)s calling' say $oodbye to the caravan.

So every year & n!mber the days as they decrease'The ho!rs of shining sl!mber that fill my heart ith peace'That fill my so!l ith s!mmer and terminate my lease.

%nd to my mind my heart appeals to keep so far as in me liesThe gentle isdom of the fields' the ancient lang!age of the skies'So that & don)t get too cast don hen & ret!rn to London TonWhere J!mbo-Jet and J!ggerna!t meet&n the annihilating sandich of the city street.

* * *


14/21

&hat have !ou got there,Joy boy.Joy and a heart% rocking-horse dog of a heart

% hopeless !seless g!rgling insideJoy by the pailf!l',o good to anyone#ogging the heart boy&sn)t it shamef!l+

What can yo! do ith it+La!gh boy.La!gh' oh it)s af!l'

(on)t start & can)t bear it#opeless shameless disorderly la!ghing 3%nd silly@&t)s so silly@,othing to la!gh at' nothing !n!s!al'Only my permanent lodger insideLarking abo!t in his !s!al fashion 3J!st stop it' it)s dreadf!l@&sn)t it af!l+

What do yo! mean by it+9!bbish@,o really & mean it'4o! o!ldn)t believe itThe r!bbish &)m talking day in and day o!t2eaningless gibberish floing !nending'#opeless@& mean there are people can hear it@What do they think of this st!ff & come o!t ith+

,ot even anything yo! can make sense of 3J!st r!bbish yo! kno like the milk boiling over 3&sn)t it hopeless+

9eally & don)t kno hat ill become of me.&sn)t it frightf!l+

* * *


15/21

There is no strong an& am the strong man.There are no 5!iet hands2y hands are 5!iet.

,o calm voice arming,o soft face t!rningOnly the ise beat of my heart.

There is no pirate& am the pirate.There is no dark poer2y poer is dark.,o eyes to control me

,o mo!th to enslave meOnly the magician in my heart.

There is no b!tcher& am the b!tcher.There is no sharp knife2y knife is sharp.,o o!nds to n!mber,o corpse to dismemberOnly the m!rderer in my heart.

There is nobody& am the body.There is no shared mind2y mind)s apart.,o so!l to greet me,o friend to meet meOnly the $reat Love in my heart.


16/21

Old and ild and gay and cra=yThe girl from &panema goes l!rching%nd every time she passes a man she says 0#i@160#o ya doin) "abe+17

When she alks she keels like a halerShe sings her cr!tch and rolls like a sailor%nd every time she passes a man she says 0#i@160Sal!t mon gar@17

"!t Oh@ she has lived her life gladly'Oh@ she)s embraced every moment'Oh@ she)s ind!lged herself madly

%nd every time she falls don on the pathShe picks herself !p ith a la!gh -

%nd ild and gay and lo!che and =anyThe girl from &panema keeps rolling%nd every time she passes a man she says 0#i@1


17/21

T#E ;S%L2 O B9E%T&O,

&t is bea!ty fading. &t is loss.&t is silence at noon. The t!rning face of a floer.

&t is the magical thread of the spider spinning in mid-air.

%nd the orld is held by a sp!n thread of gossamer' fragile' v!lnerable andshining' broken by a to!ch and sp!n again in an instant.

This softness' this spinning' this holding is o!r orld.

&t is the hard heart of the ind. The shift of a leaf falling. % listening tree.% tiny bird dancing in the grass. The knoledge of insects.

The dying of the thing yo! love. The loose end and the held end.The moment the bee goes home.

The instant before something happens.

&t kills at a blo or feeds for all time something ith no merit and no meaning.&t is bea!ty dying of rapt!re. &t is vengeance aiting.

&t is the smell of home.

&t does not have o!r feelings> nice' hate' fear' sorryC it is too big for that.&t is the la that has no la. The la of Breation.

We are in it like beetles in sap.We are st!ck.

&ts pride is in sloness' its strength is in aiting.%gain and again it lies in ait at the same corner to strike again and again at the

same o!nd. 9epeating' copying' never the same.&t knos only the tr!th of its on nat!re.

"eca!se its nat!re is tr!th.

To kno this tr!th yo! m!st kno yo!rself.%nd even then yo! kno nothing'

beca!se it has one thing e cannot !nderstand.

&t has an enormo!s idea.%nd the idea is perfect.

Everything fits everything else so everything orks right.&t cannot make a mistake.

&t holds !s in its 5!iet hand gently.&t is the la of the !niverse.

The softness that r!ns Breation.


18/21

In the time of our innocenceWe believed in the simplicities

That Light conquers DarkOr vice versa

That Good and Bad are distinct coloursAnd that naming things made them diferent.

But this golden autumn is a ne springThe ne is being born be!ore the old has died"t#s time has come$ames have not changed but things are not the same

The old is done.

The path un!olds be!ore usWhether e ish it or not

Whether e trust it or notAnd it leads to certain deathBecause all paths do.

But e listen to the calling dove o! autumnAnd hear the voice o! springWe listen to the croaking o! the !rogsAnd hear a ne li!e beginAnd let the inevitable sing.

These things are not chosenThe% are not !oreseenThe% arrive hen it is timeAnd make themselves&navoidabl% as sunshine on the aterAs ind in a clear sk%

The% do not lie.

As e give birth to ourselvesTomorro is born toda%This is the ne orderAnd e give a%.


19/21

A great man came to see me yesterday'trong( radiant and positive)e#d survived %ears o! horror and despairWatching his i!e die silentl% o! cancerAnd no he as retired in robust healthWith grandchildren( propert% and ever%thing to live !or.

"t as a charitable visit and " as grate!ulApplauding his evident successAnd palpable return to ell*being)e believed in predestination he declaredAnd took things as the% came.

" as impressed'uch con+dence and poer could not be counter!eit

,ould onl% be the reard !or a li!e ell*livedGenerous( loving( kind( compassionate)e trod the path be!ore him ithout -inchingBelieving in Destin%."! onl% " could do that.

" kne " couldn#t,ould never in the game under such rulesor believing in ree Will had made me smaller

Weaker( vulnerable( hesitant/0posed to uncertaint%( susceptible to doubtor " could see he as a prisonerAnd " as !ree.

Was this a gain or a loss1What price reedom12a%be in the end "#ll discover " as not !ree at allAnd had indeed trodden the !ated pathWithout deviation( deluded( gullible and ill*advised.

We shall see2eantime " claim the right to doubt even thatBlon b% the inds o! chance and ha3arding allOn accidents o! luck and risk and opportunit%.

"t is a gambleAnd " am !ragileBut " am !ree.

And just at that moment everything stops


20/21

)al!a% through a bar o! music4This is not ho " am5And it is overA spoke in the heel meets the tune hal!a%And kills it dead.

"t had happened be!ore)al!a% through a marriage'itting in !ront o! a glass o! ineAlone in a cit% pub somehere4This is not ho " am5And it as over.

$o moment o! truth$o stark revelation

$o shock o! e0posure6ust some part o! us knos e are d%ingAnd cuts out.

The circuit*breakerA mechanism o! li!e itsel!

The inner orkings o! the machine'ei3es up dead.

And once out o! the bottle e can#t get back inor e are alive noAnd take up more room.

/. 6. Ward cop%right 789:


21/21

open the gate

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