{"id":4004,"date":"2022-02-10T08:00:27","date_gmt":"2022-02-10T08:00:27","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/writersrebel.com\/?p=4004"},"modified":"2022-03-07T17:30:15","modified_gmt":"2022-03-07T17:30:15","slug":"duino","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/writersrebel.com\/duino\/","title":{"rendered":"Duino – poem<\/span>Patrick Mackie<\/span>"},"content":{"rendered":"

 <\/p>\n

Whether you can get there from here or wherever depends<\/span><\/p>\n

on whether you are there already,<\/span><\/p>\n

on whether you will find that you are already standing amidst<\/span><\/p>\n

the outspread hands of its stones, and their misty grey dawns,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

on whether indeed the arcs and folds of that sky<\/span><\/p>\n

really can make all location moot or striated,<\/span><\/p>\n

while nights come and go like berries that keep blurring and<\/span><\/p>\n

falling as ripeness rips them sweetly to shreds,<\/span><\/p>\n

or on whether the sun which sat<\/span><\/p>\n

up above you just now like a potter staring<\/span><\/p>\n

at his wheel is really a wheel itself,<\/span><\/p>\n

one on which all this ground moves and is shaped,<\/span><\/p>\n

coming back each time to the same basic emotions,<\/span><\/p>\n

or in fact on how amply and tenderly the earth breathes in<\/span><\/p>\n

and out with this single lung that the universe of<\/span><\/p>\n

night gives it to sing in,<\/span><\/p>\n

on how thirstily each ditch and puddle and streak<\/span><\/p>\n

of water here or anywhere can drink up<\/span><\/p>\n

the thousands of tiny spears of light that the sun<\/span><\/p>\n

throws down out of its streaming bonfire of<\/span><\/p>\n

mixed feelings,<\/span><\/p>\n

or on how movingly the chestnut tree that was weeping<\/span><\/p>\n

in small abundant fountains of raw white blossom<\/span><\/p>\n

moments or in truth a couple of<\/span><\/p>\n

months ago<\/span><\/p>\n

is now studded with its own most brutal defences,<\/span><\/p>\n

maybe it wants to show you how charged<\/span><\/p>\n

its grasp of the soil that seizes and feeds and shreds it<\/span><\/p>\n

remains, as the days loom and dissolve like clouds of<\/span><\/p>\n

arrows, and the walls here too are as plangent in their soft grey strength<\/span><\/p>\n

as, say, a rampart or bridge that you maybe glimpsed<\/span><\/p>\n

in some photograph from an all too resonant archive,<\/span><\/p>\n

and the cold winds here do indeed walk around like poets,<\/span><\/p>\n

probing every wound for its outbreaks of light,<\/span><\/p>\n

and you stand there shimmering like a tongue and watching like a<\/span><\/p>\n

mouth,<\/span><\/p>\n

in vital ways fairly stupid, and certainly neurotic<\/span><\/p>\n

in the truest and most painful sense, but,<\/span><\/p>\n

yes, moved;<\/span><\/p>\n

the songs talk as steadily here as bones within the days’ burning<\/span><\/p>\n

flesh,<\/span><\/p>\n

and Europe keeps rushing down right past you into the permanent pale blue transience of the sea.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Patrick Mackie\u00a0<\/strong>is a London-born poet who grew up in Oman and England. His work first appeared in New Poetries II,<\/em> published in 1999 by Carcanet. Since then he has authored two books of poetry, and one of prose:\u00a0Excerpts from the Memoirs of a Fool <\/em>(2001), The Further Adventures of the Lives of the Saints<\/em> (2016) and\u00a0Mozart in Motion: His Work and His World in Pieces\u00a0<\/em>(2021). He lives in Gloucestershire.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

  Whether you can get there from here or wherever depends on whether you are there already, on whether you will find that you are already standing amidst the outspread hands of its stones, and their misty grey dawns,\u00a0 on whether indeed the arcs and folds of that sky really can make all location moot […]<\/p>\n

Read More… from Duino – poem<\/span>Patrick Mackie<\/span><\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":17,"featured_media":4003,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[4,1],"tags":[185,48,69,599,598,47],"yoast_head":"\nDuino - poem - Writers Rebel<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/writersrebel.com\/duino\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_GB\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Duino - poem - Writers Rebel\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"  Whether you can get there from here or wherever depends on whether you are there already, on whether you will find that you are already standing amidst the outspread hands of its stones, and their misty grey dawns,\u00a0 on whether indeed the arcs and folds of that sky really can make all location moot [...]Read More... from Duino – poemPatrick Mackie\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:url\" content=\"https:\/\/writersrebel.com\/duino\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:site_name\" content=\"Writers Rebel\" \/>\n<meta property=\"article:publisher\" content=\"https:\/\/www.facebook.com\/writersrebel\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"article:published_time\" content=\"2022-02-10T08:00:27+00:00\" \/>\n<meta property=\"article:modified_time\" content=\"2022-03-07T17:30:15+00:00\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:image\" content=\"https:\/\/writersrebel.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/02\/Patrick-Mackie.png\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:width\" content=\"558\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:height\" content=\"569\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:type\" content=\"image\/png\" \/>\n<meta name=\"author\" content=\"Katie Percival\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:card\" content=\"summary_large_image\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:creator\" content=\"@XrRebel\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:site\" content=\"@XrRebel\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:label1\" content=\"Written by\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:data1\" content=\"Katie Percival\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:label2\" content=\"Estimated reading time\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:data2\" content=\"2 minutes\" \/>\n<script type=\"application\/ld+json\" class=\"yoast-schema-graph\">{\"@context\":\"https:\/\/schema.org\",\"@graph\":[{\"@type\":\"Article\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/writersrebel.com\/duino\/#article\",\"isPartOf\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/writersrebel.com\/duino\/\"},\"author\":{\"name\":\"Katie Percival\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/writersrebel.com\/#\/schema\/person\/58014cf4c5723b1bd41278b57688111c\"},\"headline\":\"Duino – poemPatrick Mackie\",\"datePublished\":\"2022-02-10T08:00:27+00:00\",\"dateModified\":\"2022-03-07T17:30:15+00:00\",\"mainEntityOfPage\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/writersrebel.com\/duino\/\"},\"wordCount\":438,\"publisher\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/writersrebel.com\/#organization\"},\"keywords\":[\"eco-poetry\",\"ecopoetry\",\"nature\",\"Patrick Mackie\",\"poem\",\"Poetry\"],\"articleSection\":[\"read\",\"Uncategorized\"],\"inLanguage\":\"en-GB\"},{\"@type\":\"WebPage\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/writersrebel.com\/duino\/\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/writersrebel.com\/duino\/\",\"name\":\"Duino - 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