Jim Newcombe

 

 

The Rise Of Leviathan

 

‘From whose womb did the ice crawl forth?’  (Job 38:29)

 

 

Who will say when or how the waters came,

when or how or from what atmosphere

the apparition of the poisoned waters came,

hefted aloft by its own dark bulk and splendour

from the pressure of its own abysmal bowels,

mounting to unleash

such labouring swells as bore the lush green world,

churning tons of carbon, mineral waste,

the sheer black glass of the larval hills liquidated

and dissolved.

 

Where on earth was impregnable

when out of the realm of ice and snow, as up from the kraken’s cave

came hell and high water,  

the earth’s hymen breaking in hysteria,

the sea-valve cervix breaching the contractions?

 

Envisage now

the coastal barricades burst, the buildings skittle to the sea;

tall towers crumbling like labyrinths of sand.

Insurgent groundswells on the far horizon borne

yawn open, clash

down, fly through Tokyo like a stone

through glass, make a void of Washington.

London lies like shattered crockery

to rasp and scour beneath the solar wind.

 

Waves uprising like quavers on a bar-scale,

the pluck and sweep of strings fortissimo

and the overthrown kingdoms of the earth

like wasp-grubs to a bath of eels,

gorged in mad thrashing as

the fast waves, frothed and twisting, flash and coil,

thrust landward, spit disjecta

and the wild hash hail.

 

Who will remain to tell which way or how

the ocean bucked and reared, mashed with tidal slicks of gore,

the dark sky slit with rapid spunks of lightning,

the corpse-tide laid bare.

Lurid squalls pluther and slub from the navel of the world,

a dervish that radiates darkness,

gravelling the wreath of the ear of the wind.

 

Pillow lava havocs the ocean troves.

Replete coffers disgorge

the centuries-long laden junkets of spoil,

such plundered trash of scintillant booty –

the scattered cosmos of their sovereign crowns

never countervail the damage

in the telling climate of our time.

 

Now somewhere, beyond the limits of the land,

cleft hunks of crystal density

slogger in the billowing fetches of dark sea.

Metallic ice-bluffs, sabretoothed, wield out of the chaos.

Thaw-creaking earth-crust ripped clean through;

ridge-push; slab-pull; the breath of the tsunami

altering the matrix of creation; a watershed dis-

placing the great tectonic scales.

See the diaspora of unfastening ice dislodge

the mammoth energies within the mantle,              

the swirling iron of the polar dynamo

whose jousting balances foreclose our ruin.

 

With hackles of coasting ice-crags

this apparition of the spectral waters comes

to violate in its virginity.

The stalking glaciers snap and collapse,

the rubble of the ages indistinct.

Moon scruples the massed, vast tidings;

the abrasive grind, hiss of scalding ice-blocks

covenants with no man.

 

Raking, shivering repercussions mist

and vapour, the steep and hacking waves.

Such gouged offal condemned

through corkscrew slippage and welter

to the bone-littered belly of the deep.

Each peninsula dunked like a sop in broth

into the unfathomable, out of true interior.

 

It is the ground prancing like a marionette.

It is the ice wielded and snapping in the melt,

the turmoil of the bleak tide roiling,

the massive ice-plates cracking and colliding

and the risen waters     the risen waters

the hydra-headed, self-consuming waters

rising –

 

 

 

Jim Newcombe © 2011