Liverpool Calling
Walking the full night streets and hills of Liverpool last night provided some perspective and some consolation. This morning a similar walk was refreshing. Welcome cloud cover and cool breezes, breaking sunlight and broken facades, and an absenteeism to counterpart last nights revelry. I came across stonework suitcases indicating that someone did not intend to leave here. And yet this is where most of Europe left from for the new world (for about 150 years at least). The great port city of Liverpool. It reminds me of dreams of expatriation. I've paid to stay here til monday.
Those of you who are new here should understand that I write and post crappy poetry from time to time, mostly to keep myself writing and to vent. This latest I wrote on the weary train ride from London. And so I offer it to you, sweet lambs.
REV
Cheers to suicide! So Where's my Martini?
Here's to monday mourning the honey suckled dew
tattered kites sheepishly fighting floating o'er
green hills rolling ether
and ether cloggin the brain and sogging
numbed, dulled, misty, muted...
greyed...
swayed in a bouyant vacuum
Void and Nulled.
Here's to saluting the ashes of Amurken flags.
Here's to marching the blitzkrieg bop.
Here's to hands dropped and swinging (9 front 6 rear)
fingers curled torpor laugh.
Here's to the missing milk of fumescent flowers,
the keystoned soul holding ancient towers,
Hell, everybody knows
everybody knows
where this train ends.
Slinking slinking back from shadowed white walls
hallowed halls of marble
(not the altars of innocence).
The inexperienced have nothing to offer.
And there's no qwelling a phantom with fears
swelling tears wetting no flesh
nor the tangential tangled mesh of a lover’s hair.
Here’s to bearded simpletons
silenced by the word
THE WORD
and wondering
wandering still
be still
be still.
(bearded simpletons?
Oh were it so!)
Bearded simpletons raising savant fingers and guns
Freshly goateed
Hiply unshaven
Smartly moustachioed
And even still pointing
evil still twirling
oddly yes
odd. Savants madly hurling leftovers and biled lunch.
Here’s to floating bodies
bloating exploding bodies
tampered with hampered with ambition.
Existenz.
Garbbled sentiments laughed at and lost
on an abandoned road out somewheres,
browned greened burning vegetation
sprawling and blackened
and no cloud notices without protestations of rain.
It just aint the same.
there’s unchecked pain
somewheres veinous and vain
and what’s dieing aint wholly,
it’s the holy part.
That concern cancered phantom nervous system
twitching the throes mortal
switching off a 21 gram light
breathing the soul go
go ghost go
to nowheres and beyond.
Those of you who are new here should understand that I write and post crappy poetry from time to time, mostly to keep myself writing and to vent. This latest I wrote on the weary train ride from London. And so I offer it to you, sweet lambs.
REV
Cheers to suicide! So Where's my Martini?
Here's to monday mourning the honey suckled dew
tattered kites sheepishly fighting floating o'er
green hills rolling ether
and ether cloggin the brain and sogging
numbed, dulled, misty, muted...
greyed...
swayed in a bouyant vacuum
Void and Nulled.
Here's to saluting the ashes of Amurken flags.
Here's to marching the blitzkrieg bop.
Here's to hands dropped and swinging (9 front 6 rear)
fingers curled torpor laugh.
Here's to the missing milk of fumescent flowers,
the keystoned soul holding ancient towers,
Hell, everybody knows
everybody knows
where this train ends.
Slinking slinking back from shadowed white walls
hallowed halls of marble
(not the altars of innocence).
The inexperienced have nothing to offer.
And there's no qwelling a phantom with fears
swelling tears wetting no flesh
nor the tangential tangled mesh of a lover’s hair.
Here’s to bearded simpletons
silenced by the word
THE WORD
and wondering
wandering still
be still
be still.
(bearded simpletons?
Oh were it so!)
Bearded simpletons raising savant fingers and guns
Freshly goateed
Hiply unshaven
Smartly moustachioed
And even still pointing
evil still twirling
oddly yes
odd. Savants madly hurling leftovers and biled lunch.
Here’s to floating bodies
bloating exploding bodies
tampered with hampered with ambition.
Existenz.
Garbbled sentiments laughed at and lost
on an abandoned road out somewheres,
browned greened burning vegetation
sprawling and blackened
and no cloud notices without protestations of rain.
It just aint the same.
there’s unchecked pain
somewheres veinous and vain
and what’s dieing aint wholly,
it’s the holy part.
That concern cancered phantom nervous system
twitching the throes mortal
switching off a 21 gram light
breathing the soul go
go ghost go
to nowheres and beyond.