This poem was written for the James Lee Byars exhibition in Milton Keynes Gallery as a result of being commissioned as part of Poetry Kapow to write and perform poetry for an open arts event at the Gallery run by Lost & Found. The piece that particularly caught me was “The Breath of the Soul” (a large sphere of white marble) and the direction of the piece developed, I’ve no doubt, as a result of a friend dying.
The breath of the soul is flawed, The sigh that is stone rolls, as it must The essence of the stone is the groans heaved And when the last stroke is taken, For perfection is in the making Hear a live recording of the piece, performed at Write Way Up as part of Leicester’s Lyric Lounge at the Y Theatre, July 2009.The Breath of the Soul
Scored with all the indentations that caressed,
That brought it here, that made it what it is.
Making tracks, as it goes, in the dust -
Black and white and, later, gold.
In its weaving, the sweat poured,
The flesh and blood beaten against its surface,
The heart worn with each sharp stroke
Shaping the whole, bestowing grace,
Carving a face into this change of nature.
The stone rolls to the centre of the room
Where all turns on its axis for a while.
A sweet and bitter while.
Until time passes and dust falls,
Changing its shape again, softening its shadow.
And when the breath stops...
The sigh is still.
And all that is left of the stone
Are the tracks made as it passed
through the dust of the world
Which keeps on turning.
