Poetry

Opening

Even in rushes of frenzy you dare not howl,

For you do not know the colours of the storm

That surrounds and enthrals he who,

Hollow-eyed, roars at the unreal city

While you vomit your sins and years of naked spinning,

Dizzily on the ragged edge of the universe.

Like the bold greens and blues of a poem,

Rain and wind batter outside whiskey walls!

The whiskey is gone, and a beautiful little fool shrieks,

Thrashing as a terrified horse throws its head,

Eyes rolling in filthy insanity!

Drifting sacred harlot,

You rise with him and dance, as if you knew

The screeching that would be weathered upon you.

You mutter Give, Sympathise, Control,

Like a hollow mantra as fires explode,

Inadequate though it is in the dry, empty desert,

And watch as his brains spill eloquently,

Flinging blood and bits wildly, touching you!

He's out of his mind for sure,

The sound of poisons awake in his eyes,

Reaching toward you and calling you to learn.

Skeletons jitter and sway in your eyes,

And you violently vomit the visions of years,

Revolted by the horror you see in new eyes,

And suddenly knowing Give, Sympathise, Control,

Break down on the edge of the world

And stare dizzily at the stars that plunge

And shoot in ecstasy across the black galaxy,

Causing pink and blue and green to swell and collide!

The rain that you dream of is golden and harsh,

And rolls off your cold skin shining and hot,

As explosions take flight and midnight oil roars

And shrieks for acknowledgement in the circus sky!

Scream, if you wish!

Scream at the spectacle of choking children,

Spluttering and rattling under a blanket of orange waste.

Dare you yet howl at the full moon

On watching earth shrivel and curl

Like a severed foetus under a great carbon hush?

Dare you yet howl and dance for clear, soft rain?

Roar at his crumbling city and call it and learn!

Aileen Ferris