12.05.24
Dragon Songs
These dream-flown articulate metal fish
burst onto the brim of life,
their rainbows winking to darkness
with a silent sputter of streaking, oily remnants
before the child (in me) could chase them down
Past visions in arial formations
of watercolour memory in bolder pencil marks
loosing power, dying lions, sighing
as the author of their lives slips into
art mocking death
Leave me alone with my old songs
and bloodied memories of the almost was…
shivering and afraid of welcomes that seem
to sour on the breath or fade on friendly smiles
Only so much can be done for
the forlorn and foresworn, or lonesome flame
who finds a solace in such solitude
Though these words will be misconstrued, misunderstood,
so too this may read so disjointed, yet:
It hovers nearby,
is it a guardian or creature of the woods?
I only know somehow to speak to it
but not to look directly in the eye - just yet
And I can see its soul as it sees mine
and without a word I know
that we should fly like the dream
fly free and alone
with nothing to offer
and nothing to take away
The two of crows were chimney-stacked
against the odds
craven foes might know the next card to fall
from the teller’s ring fingered hand
It would stop the mechanism -
for an hour-long minute…
Whilst all around seemed to stand in a foolsome gape
I felt the radiant heat…and heard the inevitable
caww caww