05-14-2013, 06:01 PM
Verse 1. Religious images as Aide-Memoires
Devotions clasped in fingers waxed by molten Mary Magdelenes;
incensed, she curls the smoke about. From the closet, Proust shouts out;
all splendid clad, in golden garbs shrunk tight as skin
by hot red rodding rain.
Verse 2. The Consequent Surreality of Faith
Skies slide by, shriven; crackling crisp and blowing dry
as Satan's breath. Neath burning blasts her blisters burst
and ooze out holy spirit from the still and torpid vestments that
her God made fleeting flesh.
Verse 3. The Afterlife as an Acceptable Living Belief
The bulging bag of jagged bones jangles in a silent song where none
who hear have air to breathe or ears to sense the coming storm;
though flashed by fiery foment, fury stirs but aether, cold and thin.
None feel the changing wind.
Verse 4. The Obvious nature of Truth
Moments pass in unremembered aeons, while tuneless trumpets blare away
her faith that once was safe. Harboured in her Bundled His, pulsing with
unskinned and hollow drums, she watched hot running rivulets return
to pool in cooling seas..
and yet the sea, it is not full.
(Ecclesiastes Ch.1, v.7)
tectak
Organic verse based upon the futility of faith seen as a commentary upon the bleedin’ obvious. All the rivers run in to the sea…and yet the sea, it is not full.
For Erthona(RIP)
Devotions clasped in fingers waxed by molten Mary Magdelenes;
incensed, she curls the smoke about. From the closet, Proust shouts out;
all splendid clad, in golden garbs shrunk tight as skin
by hot red rodding rain.
Verse 2. The Consequent Surreality of Faith
Skies slide by, shriven; crackling crisp and blowing dry
as Satan's breath. Neath burning blasts her blisters burst
and ooze out holy spirit from the still and torpid vestments that
her God made fleeting flesh.
Verse 3. The Afterlife as an Acceptable Living Belief
The bulging bag of jagged bones jangles in a silent song where none
who hear have air to breathe or ears to sense the coming storm;
though flashed by fiery foment, fury stirs but aether, cold and thin.
None feel the changing wind.
Verse 4. The Obvious nature of Truth
Moments pass in unremembered aeons, while tuneless trumpets blare away
her faith that once was safe. Harboured in her Bundled His, pulsing with
unskinned and hollow drums, she watched hot running rivulets return
to pool in cooling seas..
and yet the sea, it is not full.
(Ecclesiastes Ch.1, v.7)
tectak
Organic verse based upon the futility of faith seen as a commentary upon the bleedin’ obvious. All the rivers run in to the sea…and yet the sea, it is not full.
For Erthona(RIP)