Turnin’ up limb fer limb
Piece by piece
Blood shatters our mission in glass
Vitrified by the kiln in us ‘earts
We walk’t line ‘Tween fire and laughter
Thee only truth
Is the glimmer in us eyes
That thee mined af’er
Our porcelain faces crack
In a furnace o’ fists
That’s t’ smack o’ it
No turnin’ back from’t rubble o’ it
It’s true, we’re burnin’ t’ world at both ends
It’d be a crime if we knew any different
Sunday whirl
Evolution confesses itself through us.
We are holy confession
Of relic beasts
In our hearts reptilian rage
Magic drift
The stars aligned for no one
But then there was
And now us
This all tracks to
Evolution
History echoes
In our inky veins
Cats cradle
Sunday Whirl: A touch of sadness
A touch o’ the ol’ sadness labelled us pelts
Ya can trace ya finger down’t tracks o’ crows feet
But don’t let yaself linger
ya might come’t know the legends that mark’t skin within
a life well laughed despite
the melancholia that tends t’ turn the wheel
I’m bundled in.
Me rags o’ flesh ‘old forests
much of a muchness
needlin’ pinetrees
Pine sap, my tears, the plantation weeps
Maps of hate
The underworld Twists and trawls
Tearing at the strands that thread our masks
A beast Writhing in the crowds amassed
Hatred prowls the tips of Tongues
And the grey man with a yellow grin
Gathers the squall
We bear witness, this shift of fate
Criscrossing new maps to the temple of infernos gate.
Grief is a Crow
He’s the spirit of the greyest days
When he’s not perched on the mound
To watch the body go underground
Light glinting in his trickster eyes
He’s the jester of the skies
Sometimes, he is grief
Spiralling from the clouds
Hearts beating with the beat of his wings
Heavy is the black cloak and gown
Something sweeping us
From bare remembrance
To make us look up at the stars
While we bear our reverence
He’ll make us laugh in spite of our severence
Catwalking down the runway
With chic elegance
Feathers softening the senselessness
Grief is a crow
And crow is benevolence.
silverbackgorillapoetry.com 