Juvenilia- The Low Constellations (2007)

This was scribbled onto the back of a fag packet while having a cheeky smoke out of the window, it deals with the difficulty of seeing past the apparent and man made to something more true as well as the resulting disorientation. It isn’t one of my best, but it was the first stab at what has become one of my enduring themes so I felt I ought to include it.


The Low Constellations

The sunset is a band of green

And the light I have seen is spent in the West,

The sky undressed but for jewels of jets

That outburn the stars.


They are too near this earth to seem the ageless, endless, unjudging eyes

That looked on men in darker times;

Too clear in motive to astrologise

To clear in motion to ascribe a myth-


Here is one that did not chase the sun-

Here is one no goddess will ever hunt-

Here is one that rose in Munich in Heathrow falls-

That is all.


Yet they are all that burns this night

Their leading lamps are all the guide

For those who still dare in latter times

To raise their heads through smoke and glare

Still stare about with ancient eyes

And look to see the angel’s flight.


But theirs is not the angel flight

And theirs is not the starry bright

And thirty thousand feet is all

Not so far for man to fall.


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