Wednesday, October 14, 2009

Buñuel And Other Itches - "Puppets Heave Rocks"








An evening in the field

The elephant and the shield

The schizophrenic rain,

In august disdain


Fleeing from the city

To find eternity

The schizophrenic rain,

Monsters to be slain


An evening in the field

Rome shall be rebuild

The Milky Way

Has got much to say


The Faithful Dog

Choked by fog

We bleed in vain

In august disdain


One horned beasts

Sex starved priests

Church-bells chime

With blood and crime


The time that flies

The flame that dies

The Prophet who was killed

The elephant and the shield


Scriptures torn

Pain and scorn

Flesh reborn

Crown of thorn


Newborn babies

Killed by rabies

Like she who wept

For promises unkept


The final word

Happily absurd

Never spoken

Glasses – broken


The other side

Horses to ride

Bleeding eyes

Skulls in the skies


“Mercy no more”

Begotten by a whore

Melons in prison

Faith needs reason


Silent sages

Burning pages

The famine came

Shameless in shame


Hams and sandwiches

With lovelorn ostriches

And it must be said

That language is dead





The lonely clown

In his satin gown

Hens and cats

Scarecrows with hats


Now the battle shall start

And thou ought not to fart

Holy books being read

Holy words being said


Magic potions

Sleeping oceans

Stays for a day

And goes away


Highs and lows

The river flows

Severed heads –

Vision fades….


Faith heals

Hope kills

Love lies

Truth has eyes


Flowers and sex

Burnt at stakes

Like sinners and sages

Throughout the ages…..


Appetites to whet

Stages to set

So much to do

Yet nothing is true


The morning star

A brand new car

I fell in the war

The Door was ajar…


Hills and hatred

Vulgar yet sacred

Nothing to disown –

save skin and bone


Waking up is rude

And making love is crude

But the ancient way

is here to stay


The wine so red

And the car imported –

Riches thus made

From dubious trade


And now those final words

From my house of cards

Words that I must say

Before I turn into clay –


‘Come gather round people wherever you roam’

This void shall be thy eternal dome….”






The curtains are falling, thus ends the show

I’ll pack my bags, and off I’ll go

My next show’s in a distant town

And there I’ll play a silly old clown


And so

Ladies and Gents

Sinners and Saints

It’s time to go

Take my bow


Hope you enjoyed this lovely night

Acta est fabula, plaudite, plaudite…


8 comments:

Brainfreeze Blues said...

love love love

you get better by the day mister

you do

Som...getting it off my chest!! said...

good...surreal,yeah...and thoroughly thought-provoking...getting better by the day as woman before me says-agreed...keep it up!well done,well done.

Anonymous said...

Appetites to whet

Stages to set

So much to do

Yet nothing is true


Now THAT is profound...every time i think this your best work...and every next time you better it....

and oh...a dash of dylan there too...just loved it....

this is undoubtedly one of your best posts ever....

Anonymous said...

I am not much one for obvious rhymes, but......I am actually quite liking this, you. I think it's because of the images portrayed and conjured up inside my mind's eyes, when reading your words.'The schizophrenic rain' I am loving especially.

Quintessence Of Illusion said...

dis 1 vent beynd expectation.......a diffrnt genre al2gdr........surrealism.....neo-surrealism.........dunno wot ta call it...........awsum stuff......keep writing more

Samadrita said...

That's an awesome write.Your language is impeccable as usual.But you know na the stuff I dig is a tad different that this?
Keep writing and keep surprising me!

Sorcerer said...

good write..
:)

Soumi said...

"Venus,take my votive glass,since I'm not what I was,what from this day I shall be,Venus never let me see."