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Forget Me Not, you are becoming a prodigious poet. You have great energy, and some fine ideas, but it is time to move beyond your natural ability, and delve in to the craftsmanship of writing a poem. Neither youth, nor haste can be an excuse, anymore. If you feel you are worth it, that the reader is worth it, then you must mine some of those synapses that are eagerly awaiting your introduction.
Stephen
hiding in the shadows
i know your’e there somewhere
you were in sight not so long ago
I saw you, I felt you, so i know
I know you were here , so vivid and so clear
and yet you deserted me when i needed you most.where were you when I was sick
when my hair went from black to silver
I can see you oh so clearly
with your sparkling eyes
I see you running now, your face so full of life
and yet you deserted me when i needed you most.Looking at you now , as u come out of hiding
seeing your reflection
you did desert me but
i dont how i didnt notice
you leaving and drifting
up and away to the chapters of timebut as I see your reflection
its not really so bad
of course you deserted me
but what a life i had!
and now as i move a little more slowly
and take longer to dress
the memories of you
will never desert me
and yet………That’s beautiful Cath..
I look on and watch silently
Your every move noted
Your every word memorised
You don’t know I control you
Yet I follow your every action
Watching, waiting, silently brooding
A pleasant front a harmless face
You will come to trust me
Though at times you wonder
A pricking of conscience
A wondering glance
Just what am I really up too?
You’ll never be sure
Yet soon too late
The knowledge will come
Awareness will awake
The silken threads will bind you
Soft yet unbreakable
Unlike your will
For I will mould you
Remove your freedom
Make you my slave to serve at my whim
All will be mine
Never yours again
You’ve already lost
You just don’t know it
You thought me the servant
Now I’m the master
The omnipotent state!Prayer
And so what was well
Never shall be.
Again, unnatural day.
Night seemed certain at least,
Yet the chrome cemetary grey
Wrought no steel, no twilight mechanism
To soothe too soon a finality.
Huge singular tear pool from your eye
Like a clear blood (my blood) splashing,
Crashing into the plain normality of your shoe.
For all that was then seems strange fabric –
That something else from me again,
Your sullen little brother again –
My head bowed with speech defeated,
As we stared, sunken at the grave of childhood.Oh I only have this!
I have only this!
Plough all knowing from my path,
For too shrill is the music.
Too cold the breath mist on the mirror.
Too freakish is the faith sequence,
Too manic the extant lull of acceptance.
Let Saviours come with the wherewithal
Or lets beaches boil their oceans bare,
Bleached to the naked physic.
Let Gods and science alike get fucked to their high heavens
And finally feel the angry earth batter
Every aspiration of an age!
Rape, lay waste the hard and sensitive tragedy.
Scream with innocence the death of Adam’s fall,
For too often we call Human!
Too oft administer all
To the assembled accident of the ammoniacal soup.
Nor shall the wavering cross of conscious and conscience
In some form of healing hour longer be.
No.
Let sickness itself,
Yet another bastard born of us
Suckle from it’s whore mother of retention,
Time.
Then, let it be.For what more must it make
To break the hate music now,
Born from Requiems then?
Unnatural ways.
For all comes after the past.
After the past is gone.Amen
behold!
ignorance wrought
as prophecy.
denied dreams caught
from the ether
of insanityargumentative bliss
resurrected from
post-capitalist
boredomwatch the decay
of time as it slips
through my fingers
the liquid cancer
whose scent still lingers.Wilted flowers on the breath,
the stench of death
well known to gilted hearts
wrapped in poison ivyI played my part
ill-fated chimera
dancing on a knife’s edge
unaware that the end was much nearer.
The song by the moth
as it burned in the flameWow, Sgt., Forget Me Not, bummer man.
Stephen
I sold my soul for the 7th time
@Sgt Pepper wrote:
Prayer
And so what was well
Never shall be.
Again, unnatural day.
Night seemed certain at least,
Yet the chrome cemetary grey
Wrought no steel, no twilight mechanism
To soothe too soon a finality.
Huge singular tear pool from your eye
Like a clear blood (my blood) splashing,
Crashing into the plain normality of your shoe.
For all that was then seems strange fabric –
That something else from me again,
Your sullen little brother again –
My head bowed with speech defeated,
As we stared, sunken at the grave of childhood.Oh I only have this!
I have only this!
Plough all knowing from my path,
For too shrill is the music.
Too cold the breath mist on the mirror.
Too freakish is the faith sequence,
Too manic the extant lull of acceptance.
Let Saviours come with the wherewithal
Or lets beaches boil their oceans bare,
Bleached to the naked physic.
Let Gods and science alike get fucked to their high heavens
And finally feel the angry earth batter
Every aspiration of an age!
Rape, lay waste the hard and sensitive tragedy.
Scream with innocence the death of Adam’s fall,
For too often we call Human!
Too oft administer all
To the assembled accident of the ammoniacal soup.
Nor shall the wavering cross of conscious and conscience
In some form of healing hour longer be.
No.
Let sickness itself,
Yet another bastard born of us
Suckle from it’s whore mother of retention,
Time.
Then, let it be.For what more must it make
To break the hate music now,
Born from Requiems then?
Unnatural ways.
For all comes after the past.
After the past is gone.Amen
A stunning, salvific work of sheer shining brilliance!
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