Words of varying strengths fucking and punching one another, lighting cigarettes and putting on coats. All creating shadows that we call poems with a queer read on them.
Sunshine on stone Take me to the olive trees On the hill Watch the boats Come one by one Turning the sky inside out Draw a lion in the dust A wolf in the cloud The coolness of the grass The warmth of your stomach The falcon overhead Distant voices The boys swimming Old ladies yelling at lonely girls Hear the song of history calling Shirt hanging over branch Summer sweat The mainland coast Blue and Grey and Green Golden song of ancient instinct Power Strength Breathing in air The scent of pine Sex and sea On a hill high Sunshine on skin The song of history calling
Sandwiched between regret and some kind of love Where the layered leaves of autumn fall The damp stars all glide over such a mouldy moon And our ships were christened by the naked man- called Salvation Our Wisdom was king and we heard the sirens string section Yet we did not know where we could go that day We just merely sat there with frozen limbs and fortune was plagued by Nemesis Who could we seek underneath that mouldy moon Who would paint us as we sacrificed that which we held excellent and new Between that which we chased and that which we could not believe in The arrows within our compasses all pointed upward against our pockets And the string section was played backwards as the soft skin changed colour in the heat and light But the rules had been written by Salvation and the granite had been carved The dreams had been lost to night and no one could remember The knives were as silent as the saints, the angels were loud as they fell to the water As they rolled i...
The artist thought he heard a murder taking place Over and down through the smoke and in the mirrors The paint was too smudged and a brush was on the floor The light wasn't allowing him to see the difference The river had a town on it's side with a handful of lovers Nobody dreaded the lovers and the lovers dreaded nobody The reflection in the water made everything look resigned The sign over the bridge was stolen at least once a year Breakfast in the hotel was a celibate affair Outside the weather was holding us hostage at sub zero The hexagons on the wallpaper made our eyes hurt And then the clouds broke against the window I don't remember much, there was litter on the floor There was a fool who drove past with no lights on A bird shocked the chef as it hit the window's reflection And a new Jesus was born into the suburbs He reminded me that I must: Find the large man with bent nose and kiss him upon his clean shaven cheek Drink champagne on the r...
Comments
Post a Comment