Echos of rivers fall from ghosts of eyes
Frozen – your expression a lie
Faded, cracked, nothing but the void
Masked by death, an effigy of lore
Twisted masquerade hiding the truth…
Of you.
Mists rising
Morning tide
Skies ripped
With dawning
The hat of the explorer
Sat in the attic
Full of stories untold
One day a child
Claimed it for fun
Dress up
Adventures – made up
Rememberings
Through generations
Stowed.
Mist misting creeping up into the air
Spiralling into ground clouds
Hiding the morning
The blood dragon bloomed in swirls on a cloud
Threads twisting into smokey substance
The beat of a heart, pulsed in it’s withering dance
As currents flowed and shifted within
A deep dark ruby of gelatinous clot – made an eye
It winked and twisted away, formless once more
Just tatters remained
A hat
Simply a hat
That is all
A hat…
Of explorers
Adventurers
Champions
The good guys
The bad guys
The lost
And the found
With it who
Will you be
Today?
Streaks of colour building the image – a memory
Of shadow and light, time skitters back on itself
And I am lost once more… in the desert
Dark hills on the horizon and grit in my eyes
There are clouds scudding but no respite from a Thunder Sun
My head is already splitting, tongue swollen, lips cracked…
peeling
A smell of decay – ripe, fresh, rank, bitter and sweet
Sickly rancour or a carcass swarming with flies
A moment when I almost did not survive – but I did
And now the desert haunts the minds eye
A dreamscape I can never leave – the land claimed me
Streaks of streak of streaks… time and sand.
They will take us back through rose tinted history
Ignoring the distortion of the lens
Sugar coats are decaying minds
Media hyped the lies to tsunami
A tidal wave to wash civilisation away
Or at least the society bit of it anyway
And sooner or later the blood will flow
All roads of hatred run their course
But what will the damage be?
Remember the camps?
Lines, angles, curves
Luminescing in the dark
Splitting the white light into froth
Rainbow bubbles fill the room
Amalgamate, collect, consume
Spheres colliding, membranes merging
Stretching, morphing – fission
thin…
brittle deformation
CREATION of…
The void
The engineer waits perceiving…
thinking…
Hesitating and writes…
The WORD.
He wore white robes
They matched his hair
And shone with the brilliance
A radiant sun
He pulled me close
To bless
To Whisper
My blood on his fingers
Marring purity
We both knew he would kill me
– how could he not?
Secrets and oaths bound
Better I were a deamon
Even though I was not
But I wasn’t sure
Maybe I was?
Just a little
What was evil anyway?
Hot breath and sacred pan
Stains of ages
He wept
I did not
For I knew he loved me
Soon everyone would know