from Heatherburn by Nicole Olmos Pervaiz

4 May 2015

Nicole Olmos Pervaiz


Rain drops on bath

drops on wood roofs

drops on head

drops on handkerchief

drops on tears

rain drops on hat drops on


drops on yesterdays

drops on nevers

drops on somehows

drops on cummings

drops on now

rain drops on wine

in wine

in whiskey

in books

rain drops on soils and

earths and





Snow fall finality, thick as intimate clouds,

will you settle for today?

Mayall plays the broiling blues

chords to nowhere

turning triptych windows over

from side to side

while curtains cannot hide me here

for now

fisherman fresh fish found

by the river side

walking man lonesome tread

now covered by snow

and yawned

to oh god clock speaks,

if it speaks of laughs,

not today:






always here




Hither heather (hather) had

and in the day time



Hither heather (hather) hill tops spring

and in pens cows sing

and calves look out

with baby blossom eyes.

Hither heather (hather) here

this is where I’ll be

and where I once was.


Hither heather (hather) how

here in the eternal heartland

silence echoes thought

and trees hummed ocean,

in between snow weathered walks.




Not so gentle breeze on high green horizon

line, hill tops and bottoms,

deep down stumble through lecherous mud.

Holes suckle on boots and shoes

heads not quite right

mad in swollen eyes.

Loud howl,

Snipe, and trip on purple land

with pink red golden hands

sideways smiles

floating thumbs.


that full rainbow,

end to top glowing whole

wandering lonely and sincere,

burn toe, prickle

spiders in a spindle

tall grass blade babies

cribs, all dead and purposeful

only sky in those clouds

only river in those springs

and gorgeous gentle trickling

of rain, punctual on its own accord,

while days pass by

whole, swollen, pink bellied,

(hiding under woollen rugs)




riveting, running, river of smoke


perfectly circular

perfectly pensive


wistful burning youth grows old

carried amid air

touches long forlorn flight

far away sky

and clouds, dainty wild

to cold legs,


touchingly quiet, sombre

harrowingly loving

reflective gleam and glow




Black bird sat beside me

in lonely distance

and flew its own trail of sky

disappearing into dispersed country-


Following cascading pox mark sunlight,

heather highland’s

drifting rogue,

and unmoving stone ruins,

laden fair and pale

while brown house hides

in between bosom bottom grooves.


Image credit: Andrew Bowden


1 Comment

  1. LB

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <s> <strike> <strong>