Tristan’s savage sonnets play

The rocky face of Alba’s coast

While Mr. Machievalas trips into view

On a new red street in Bermondsey West

The police were wandering around there in 1973

But lately, only 2 stray jackdaws bother

And that’s only because they can smell the blood

No one else wears a uniform

Unless you can call a scowl a badge

People just close their windows, if they ever opened

The sun golden and bright still shines

But even sun can’t eclipse the children’s apathy

And to think it’s not one hundred years

Since Japan invaded China

And women were left, a pile of chewed flesh

And broken bones upon the street

And an army supposedly brave and honourable 

Raped the soul of a nation

How far have we traveled in a grey Morris Traveller?

To find the crumpled hopes of 2 generations

Were only the pipe dreams of a Timothy Leary, Swiss tablet

Marianne Faithful was not Madonna

Chairman Mau, not every boy’s romantic father

While we all imagined we were Stephen Stills

And every willing woman, therefore, an honest fuck

On days like that, we could not touch the earth

Or fly through sashed-windows

Or bury Tolkien’s Bible in the grey graveyard

Amid the mossy stones

Engraved with history and the names of

Sincere people who lived quiet lives

In the time before Lucifer stirred

Dressed as a flaming Jessy

And with a scorpion in his bag

And the silent waters trickle down

On a moor near Helmsley Deep

And the hourglass converts to digital

… thud 




About edenbray

I've always enjoyed writing and thats all I want to do... .. . I’m not sure why I stopped writing, was it 9/11? .. . Eden Bray is born ugly, wet and covered in blood, mucous and bodily functions. The effluence of my short life .. . I'm a Writer and Artist - since 1966, now a Blogger ~ I write lots of poems, written essays, articles, reviews, opinion + comment .. . please join the shebang but more importantly please leave me a marker with a comment for my ego and my encouragement :- thanks, edenbray
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