Monday 14 September 2009

Poetry #1 - Ode To The Moon In Bristol - 12/08





Luscious intrepidation of bitten souls, syllables blare
Heavy heads of confused misunderstanding,
Catching feathers with rustled hearts.

Enliven yourself, a withdrawn smile
And the orange question of exit liberties
Like the screaming countries of war.
Nightly penicillin, absolut fucks and rehab deposits
The inside job of vampire tickets
And arresting branded threesomes of the pub porn band.


A baby jacket bell jar and heavy blood instruments
The cocktail sharks that swarm golden cages
Baiting blood which weeps


Little despair brings the biggest joy from the vantage of the disowned
Where driven drumbeats push pauper kings and queens
Through streets of fools.


The settling dust coats conduits, a view of shining shards
Like the constant fading reminiscence
Of diamonds that catch the eye


Seconds fleet eternal as black holes begin to absorb
Watching the cascading ice fingering
Precious jewels, now trinkets violated


Bright lights always eventually dim
like lost vessels in the night
Devoid of any


inspiration,
everything
just

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