The Geranium Hotel Poems

I dreamt of the woman last night The old lady of the piano And she sang me her nursery rhyme A message of wild, ragged, glory The pin points of light formed a desert A bright wasteland holding back the dark Perfumed with the smoke of history's war planes Crashed and burning in their white and grey ash The ceremony continued with spectacle I felt as though there was water rippling to my waist My imagination conjured elephants Wading, slouching, coursing through their delta The windows were closed to the shadows all iced We struggle with images that sit and shift behind us Like we are unsteady with Love and Loneliness and Liberty And stones that circle fire will reveal beast and bird in flame The oldest voice, it wailed down at me Singing of the brass statues of the naked gods Holding their Leopard skins and spears Hewn so masterfully The old lady she sang at me With words that were etched into the bells of freedom She spoke softly the phrases that were dress

Does it really matter what road your on? Or that the leaves around you are dying? That the stones are pulling at your feet? Or that the birds are southward flying? And you know, what girl doesn't love a poet? And what boy doesn't love a girl? What expectations do you put in your promises? What sort of secrets can't you tell? Does it really matter when you finally leave your lover? When you finally hear the silent alarm? Does it effect you when you sweep those dreams away? Along with the tears and broken charms? And you know that the skies are swallowing the days? Like the days are stealing what little time we have But c'mon what girl doesn't love a poet? And what boy wouldn't love that girl? Does it really matter that your spending the night alone? Or that the old hotel ahead is a grave of lust and dust Does it matter that its lights are fading like our looks And like us the owner is a man whose past you can't really trust And you know we

Only the King with his crown on the floor should be reading this For he is the only one who will understand Visions of the day that introductions took place After the nudge over silicon and wire Bright spots appear, there is no recollection Have you since been stolen by another melody? Sung by someone wrapped in velvet, casting long shadow I remember your shadow, dark like your Chilean eyes I would happily follow it through what is left of these days Celebratory dinners of fried chicken- romantic no? Trapped in the wardrobe, with only another boy for comfort Half way up stairwells, trousers down, cocks out   My god, boy, you were always my king Do you know this? Films that caused hysteria, on darkened couches, under softened blankets Massaged muscles, I like to think that there were times that I made you feel good But there are different words for the same feelings, the same emotions I can never forget your eyes, I wonder,