The Geranium Hotel Poems

I've done so much, gone so far Like a cloud born from the sea To fade against the sandy horizon I've been dizzy with love And fallen with loss I've been shaking with hate And stumbled with fury And all my old friends- some are here, some have gone I can not see indignity in anyone's behaviour I have songs in my heart And an artists scope in my mind Tho who will hear? and who will see? Who will inherit them now? I can see into the noise I can hear the vision of the artist And I want to scrape away the edges I don't know where I am Or who I am following Are my friends the villains  Who I see in those old movies Who dance the tango Across the floor  With the light shining in their eyes I can see the shadows I can hear the band playing in the corner And I want to taste their music I want to smell the breath Of the singer as he leans against the stand I don't know where I belong Or who I should follow 

You look down and never look to the sky again The gutter holds more interest Than the stars ever will You can step on the cracks And let yourself fall Into the canyons, grandiose and pleasing to the eye Falling is like flying Only you know its going to hurt when you land  So you have to land on someone who has wings You become the angel's parasite They are forced to be your guardian angel But as soon as you get close enough to the ground You let go And you run Because conversation with an angel  Is like conversation with a beautiful person Very, very boring So you run, and you hide In, perhaps, a doorway Lighting a cigarette as you catch your breath And you look as the Angel circles the sky looking for you And you inhale the cigarette smoke As you flick the collar of your shirt up And you look at the door that you are leaning against Someone has carved 'Waken your weapon, Waken your steps' in the wood You think about th

Wake your weapons, wake your steps Your voice shall be louder than the prophets Your heart shall be truer than the truest of men Make your fists, make your pledge Nations have not known your breed Kings have never dreamt of your stance Winds have never raised flags such as yours Generations have never seen your march Your bones are tattooed with creeds to the children of the future Your blood is scented with the flowers of Babylon Your tongue is tipped with the accents of Babel, of all nations Your heart is encrusted with the jewels of honest men An an unknown hero in the colours of redemption you are A poet of future days of united glory you are A child of the elements, and a child of man A child of terrible nature and fantastic humanity Wake your symbolism, wake your colours Wake the cry for freedom and the cry for justice Wake your brother, wake your sister Your creed is their creed And united, gods shall walk upon the earth once more

The siren of the night tears at the loneliness of silence Within the colour and the hue I see the shapes opening I see the reds and the blues breaking the bleakness of darkness Something that only the stars once did Curtain wave across my face, brush my cheek, replace his hand Blanket cover me in safety, secure me in warmth, replace his breath Dream tell me a story with sunlight as backdrop and gentle breeze perfuming the air This is the night that I know I must not forget From darkness harmonies blossom and vibrations of colour thaw the cold air I don't know from where the music comes but the hymns they are sung The constellations they are the villains and the mad night angels the heroes The men who comb the streets for wayward pickpockets to seduce The men who seduce the street combers and pick pocket their waywardness In the distance the piano player and the priest make love In the distance the church burns to the applause of the angels The gods get drunk on me

I sit at my desk and the night depresses the day The litter from my mind does cartwheels across my room You say every cloud has a silver lining Nut you know I want mine edged with gold I look at all the portraits With admiration floating upon my face's sea And I wonder when, I wonder when The ghost will become the body Who is the mechanic of this torment? Myself? society's fire? Is it merely a memory of what I had in a lifetime gone? Some drink to remember, some drink to forget And I hear the sirens call my name I see them float towards, me those beautiful temptresses They couple with the muses And bring about beautiful ideas, too graceful for the minds of men I hear the oceans of ghosts I hear them call at me in my sleep Whispering unspeakable prose I hear flapping of the angels wings As they watch me shudder in my sleep As I mutter and stutter words to songs I've never heard I hear the voices of soldiers questioning love, questioning death As they

And the angels circled over head, barking and clawing and throwing themselves at our windows. Inside, we were warm drawing moustaches above soft kissable mouths. It was the time if the year when Autumn could be found within summer and comic wine was drunk straight from the bottle... It was the time of year for sugar daddies, for love and nostalgia. We were the kids of inevitable age pressing our nipples and noses against windows for the angry angels to bare their teeth at. we made a promise that our emotions would never be silenced, nor let the shade of our eyes fade. You were my queen of London and I your king of Melbourne... Christmas was coming, the land of the broken wall was open for you, the land of the black forrest and Hansel and Gretel, visas were finishing and you considered Prague. Ginsberg was the May king there once, I think you would like prague, you only chose it out of easiness but the culture, the heritage, the streets and it's cobblestones are all what spell