Stephen Robertson

Slanting Lines

Concordance

This concordance provides an index to every word in the poems, excluding a list of common "stopwords".  It may be useful in finding a half-remembered poem, and perhaps in looking at the usage of words in the poems as a whole.  It will be readable only on a large screen.

I

eap pun // // … a swindle…  // // [One
iamb , two anapest] feet // // [make up an eight-syllable] beat.  // /
l half-covered // // in slowly melting
ice .  On the far side // // the steep snow-covered slopes rise up //
having owned // // long long ago, that
icon of // // a time and maybe social group // // —and then, when th
Colourless green
ideas found sleeping furiously // // // The garlic slices the beef g
e in what he says, // // through these
ideas he makes a worthy guide; // // his voice is lively, gestures wi
hich I can discern, even perhaps // //
identify across the years.  A copper beech // // stands out, a clump
some of them sublime.  // // Must just
ignore the shop-committed crime, // // the muzakal banality which sti
et // // tried to hear // // tried to
ignore // // tried to learn // // tried to live // // tried to love
ome to Paris // // Manuel de Falla and
Igor Stravinsky.  // // A turn, a period of change?  // // Well, yes. 
Iken Hall // // Later, my mother will describe the house itself // /
Daydream Dale Journey // // From
Ilkley’s old stone bridge I trace a path // // against the stream, ba
y // // remains in memory, for good or
ill , // // another day.  // // I cannot say // // whether I have the
chill // // Lies fast upon the land so
ill .  // // Seldom now the skylark’s trill; // // No longer do the pe
o its ‘ON’ position and the switch will
illuminate . // // When the water boils the kettle will swi
om my fickle memory— // // elusive and
illusive treasure, she.  // //
’s encomium // // came to be known to ’
im . // // … and one poet // // Thomas Stearns Eliot // // wrote poe
d it conjures up a vision // // of the
image that inspired it: a scattering // // of people in a city street
be fixed // // while the long night’s
images last, // // but notched on the stick // // as the day slides
into the mist.  // // The long night’s
images last.  // // But now the light is fading // // as the day slid
ls, created by some force // // beyond
imagination ; and of course // // extracted from my fickle memory— //
// // there are times // // when the
imagination fires.  // // Pots are thrown and fired, // // crops are
spiration // // This figment of my own
imagination // // is the space in which I must survive, // // with F
five- // // or eight- or ten-year-old
imagination .  // // It stands within a grove of trees, a very few //
not pass, // // this figment of my own
imagination .  // // Maybe I should write it in a verse // // with Fri
// what reconstruct and // // what re-
imagine ?  Not to rave // // at fate, at chance, at // // what has co
// // only the back // // of the one
immediately in front.  // // The wind is angry, howling and shrieking.
ne— // // me, I’m not looking for such
immortality , // // life after death would not be to my taste; // //
// with crescent moon // // from cold
immune .  // // Let snow lie, // // it’s Jan, not June.  // // A blue
-rate opportunity— // // Isolation for
immunity — // // To indulge in the felicity // // Of unbounded domest
t their prey.  But not for long // // —
impermanence’s permanence the rule.  // // Change will last forever.  /
nk-like hood— // // and with (the most
important thing) // // those wooden toggles, loops of string.  // //
he taro rolls up an incense.  // // The
impregnable fortress makes fish cake.  // // Fried kind’s of seafood i
with no result.  // // Fragile crab of
incense taste mushroom // // Do the black boiler hair belly.  // // T
ean bubble, // // The taro rolls up an
incense .  // // The impregnable fortress makes fish cake.  // // Fried
ameter (the pole // // itself and four-
inch rings surely to be found // // elsewhere in the garage).  // //
den curtain pole, // // two and a half
inches in diameter (the pole // // itself and four-inch rings surely
he boxes and tins are stacked // // in
increasing disorder along the back // // of the bench, as far as the
sins // // but flagons.  Flagons might
indeed // // distract me, or Suliman, from his pilaf.  // // But stay
ether and together and together, // //
Indeed there will be time, there will be time // // time for all the
nations.  // // Now Brin and Page build
index tabulations // // of all the words their spiders’ crawls can fi
/ // Isolation for immunity— // // To
indulge in the felicity // // Of unbounded domesticity. // // (not t
/ —only the last lives there.  // // An
inflated bulb to hold // // the other two in place.  // // Subjective
Those that they choose to use // // to
inform or confuse, // // elate or validate or grieve— // // these wo
letter.  // // Scented paper, dip-pen,
ink .  // // Branch post office, penny stamp.  // // I love you.  // //
a letter.  // // New papyrus, brush and
ink .  // // Command a messenger.  // // I love you.  // // Draughty ha
r.  // // Parchment, new quill pen, and
ink .  // // Employ a messenger.  // // I love you.  // // Curtained pa
icate tendrils far, // // invading the
inky darkness, keeping // // at bay the frights night has in store.  /
tarlight from space // // reflected in
inky water, // // the cool night air // // slows down time.  // // N
Islands, beaches, clifftops, creeks and
inlets , // // rocky shorelines tumbling under the sky.  // // Sea-bir
rnthouse // // footpaths; phone boxes;
inns // // One to twenty five thousand:  The Broads // // Westwick; W
ping into each joint, // // it must be
insane // // to expect that a train // // will emerge from the vanis
oin and in my mind’s eye:  // // A tube
inside a tube inside a tube // // —only the last lives there.  // //
mind’s eye:  // // A tube inside a tube
inside a tube // // —only the last lives there.  // // An inflated bu
nlight fills // // the room we glimpse
inside .  A woman leans // // upon a table in the window, looks // //
y might be behind or under.  // // Look
inside anything they might be in.  // // Turn the place upside down.  /
coloured flesh // // and hide a secret
inside .  // // Feel the air.  Turn in the four winds.  Broadcast the sec
ide // // and you can see all the junk
inside . // // grey John Major // // surely had a wager // // that h
it.  // // Sometimes softness shelters
inside hardness.  // // Softness grows, hardness grows too, // // spi
llow through, and can be climbed // //
inside ) mark out the sandy/grassy bank that is // // the cliff.  A na
claws and barbs, // // fastens itself
inside .  // // Movement is faster, edgier, rougher.  // // Rough softn
er day.”  // // And yet you stay // //
inside my head, and take away my will // // to find a way.  // // The
// // What does it look like from the
inside ?  // // See that blue-green ball of stuff? // // —spinning aro
llows us, not to feel safe // // until
inside the house.) // // The bracken spreads across a gentle slope //
Zigzag // // 2 forward: 
inspiration // // Alpha, beta, gamma, delta.  // // The way is clear.
dropping onto Isaac’s head.  // // His
inspiration is not mine // // (the apple said).  // //
rvive, // // with Frida as my muse and
inspiration — // // that reality in which I live.  // //
verse // // with Frida as my muse and
inspiration // // This figment of my own imagination // // is the sp
n, the cataclysm // // which will both
inspire and destroy // // so many poets and other artists // // whic
stump // // make promises-to-go // //
inspired by our local Trump.  // // The light is failing now.  // // T
es up a vision // // of the image that
inspired it: a scattering // // of people in a city street, shop-wind
ould not see // // what he saw…  // //
Inspired ?  Why should such a mundane scene // // so briefly glimpsed,
ch and do not blink.  // // In time, an
instant dash: // // a shooting star.  // // To the sharp senses, natu
: if you blink you will miss // // the
instant jagged challenge passing between them // // or down to earth.
iations.  // // Zipf was counting their
instantiations , // // ranking, taking logs and drawing lines.  // //
by the sun // // —use moontime // //
instead ).  // //
sink a battle-ship.  // // But perhaps
instead I will go the whole hog, the full nine yards: turn the paper o
Aristotle makes you choke // // eat me
instead .  // // My ancestor caused Eve to know // // more than Jehova
etermine // // whether some real delta
integration // // is possible at all.  I have to try.  // //
ent // // Who set out with the best of
intent // // In rollicking verse // // On a galloping horse— // //
n get it to do // // anything remotely
interesting ?  // //
to be acting // // not in its own best
interests .  // // Too bad.  // // Polarity // // // First the bad ne
wn the road // // and into whose dense
interior // // we sometimes venture.  // // Beyond the fir-trees lies
and gold livery // // of the Compagnie
Internationale des Wagons-Lits // // et des Grands Express Européens
y sound; // // they write their notes,
interpret what they find.  // // The possibility of peace is now long
ugh forests waking to the spring // //
intersect or fork.  Some of these meeting-points // // are signposted
ot until light is fading // // has the
interval passed by.  // // An uncompleted day // // is not yet to be
is not yet to be fixed— // // but each
interval passing by // // may be notched on a stick.  // // Not yet t
Interval // // There is a forty-one year tale to tell // // —could I
// Change will last forever.  // // At
intervals along the south horizon // // container ships in stately pr
zeska, and put it into our hands).  She
introduced me to so many artists.  As I have visited other places, I h
/ sending delicate tendrils far, // //
invading the inky darkness, keeping // // at bay the frights night ha
aller tube.  // // Subjective // // An
invasion of my privacy.  // // An assault on my dignity.  // // An abr
eps, and slumbers not: // // a stealth
invasion’s getting off the ground.  // // Up on the surface and for fa
ch message.  Theirs // // is a one-way
invitation to the rocks.  // // But me, now, I'm just lucky.  // //
recuperate.  // // Skiddaw is looming,
inviting explorers—a // // challenge I cannot allow to go answerless.
.  But for these falls, // // no drink
involved .  // // P // // The fall is denied.  // // Anyway, the cance
es some deep philosophy?  // // Voices,
ipods , phones speak out— // // add to the road’s cacophony.  // // Di
On the top deck of a 68 // // Voices,
ipods , phones speak out— // // add to the road’s cacophony.  // // Th
er people mutter, shout, // // voices,
ipods , phones speak out.  // // So many people talking: can we doubt
lly grown to full maturity // // to an
iron -gated pointed arch // // piercing the wall, built like the house
ef granule.  // // The first boilers of
iron plate glue east // // Grow face fa-cai thick soup.  // // XO sau
rical components.  // // A pair of cast-
iron supports for an old // // high-level lavatory cistern, wonderful
wind // // whips the spume // // into
irregular clots, picks them up, // // and strews them downwind.  // /
tive // // Discomfort.  Bother.  // //
Irritation .  Nuisance.  // // Pain? no, not really.  // // Objective /
I draw the line // // at dropping onto
Isaac’s head.  // // His inspiration is not mine // // (the apple sai
// // Shickshock Mountains; Shippegan
Island ; Cape Sable // // bays; harbours // // One to one million two
nly one remains to shiver // // On the
island in the river, // // Tending her cabbage patch forever, // //
nd grasses waving under the sky.  // //
Islands , beaches, clifftops, creeks and inlets, // // rocky shoreline
Here’s a first-rate opportunity— // //
Isolation for immunity— // // To indulge in the felicity // // Of un
e more tenuous, // // legs weaken, and
isolation palls.  // // One more great change, one more new beginning:
d stretch // // blue skies // // legs
itch // // must get on // // first scratch // // clothes on // //
// // as old as the hills // // each
iteration // // shifts the sand, carves the coastline // // into som
ating half in half out, I’m sure // //
it’ll last forever, the light that’s leaking // // under the door.  //