* A work in progress – critique welcome!
Broad strokes, bedside
broached the topic of
through bygone whispers
renovated in bravado,
battered with the blue breeze
bloody braggarts call carnal bastardization.
An immigration of conscience
instituted something like incontinence.
Winged Aphrodite pulled hormones
through the shaft of her soul,
but ringed Bast barred in gold;
lovers circled bane and bust,
but the band bonded true—
like a shadow, lust, pulled
through the needle of love’s eye.
"The morning after the battle of Waterloo", by John Heaviside Clarke, 1816. Image care of Wikimedia Commons.
For the final One Shot Wednesday at One Stop Poetry, and the grand opening of the dVerse Poets Pub, I would like to bring back a classic – the poem with which I introduced myself at the first One Shot Wednesday, in July last year, when One Stop was still just a glitter and a gleam in the eyes of a few good poets.
It is dark, and due to its age not the style of mine to which you may have become accustomed, but I hope you enjoy it all the same – and if you’d like to see the piece with which I more officially gave my ending salute to that wonderful art community, check out last week’s contribution: One Winter Morning.
- – -
Restless nightmares break,
From wretched slumber do I wake
To a world of endless night—
Thunderous choirs make me crouch in fright.
High above us wraiths now soar,
Men clasp their ears to deafen their roar.
Over hills and shattered streets,
The bands come marching to woeful beats.
A hundred thousand voices cry,
Then all the singers die.