EXILED

 

I see a light‬

‪As it gleams through smoke and haze‬

‪Dark is this night‬

‪Darker still through history's gaze‬

‪Move only forwards ‬

‪Never think of up or down‬

‪Your greatest triumph of the age‬

‪Wears a charred and bloody crown‬

 

‪Take all you can and run away‬

‪Push down your death another day‬

‪Disquiet dwells like a thorn in your eye‬

 

‪Exiled beyond sight‬

‪Where the greyness gnaws away‬

‪All hope and fight‬

‪Now the sun picks at my brain‬

‪The ocean's menace and its roar‬

‪And its sweeping unwalled maze‬

‪Rather I had its terror now‬

‪Than these endless dying days‬

 

‪You are alone in your skin‬

‪In the hush a howling din‬

‪No matter what you do or say‬

‪The hate won't go away‬

‪Your legacy unto us all‬

‪Is to teach is how to fall‬

‪Yes, somewhere even within thee‬

‪A dying heart longs to be free‬

 

BURNING POEMS

(for Charles Buckmaster)

 

Only young, not twenty-one

He hitched across the Nullabor Plain

His face was brown and broken down

As he looked for the summer rain

And when he got to the western land

He found the same old pain

So he walked around to the north of town

Where the road took him again

 

And he saw his freedom

Like a moon escaping from the clouds

 

He saw the fragments of the light

As they fell upon his arm

He heard the singing of the dawn

In its crowning golden psalm

He felt the ice of winter

And the shadows in the night

He could taste the ash of a burning world

As his soul prepared for flight

 

And he saw his freedom

Like a moon escaping from the clouds

And he saw his freedom

Like fire returning to the sun

 

The ghost of the past came crowding down

Put the mist before his eyes

Obscured the sun and everyone

Who was listening to his cries

Inside he felt the hour

And direction of his fate

So he marched towards his meeting with

A beauty that awaits...

 

HOLDING PATTERN

 

Your pain so plain to see

for the brother in me

Is this why you turn away?

To yesterday

Before the grief compounded

and mutiny sounded

A discourse in your blood

an empty flood

 

Feel

something in this holding pattern

circling you

Feel

nothing in this holding pattern

circling you

 

A bouquet to the sun

and everyone

Disquiet in your eyes

is paralyzed

An anger for the kill

tempered still

Turns itself around

to demon ground

 

And I will still maintain

a brother's refrain

Misaligned and still to find

us scared and blind

The wind and scouring sand

of time and land

Will grind away the reticence

the evidence

The Anecdote. Words, Stories, Mystery

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