Gather everything you own
and stack it against the door
barricade yourself from all
the creeping uncertainty
Then shred your finest linens
and block all crack and crevice
seal your world up tightly
from the poisoned air outside
Paint the glass with black tar pitch
it stings the eyes and lungs but
obscures your chamber nicely
against the harsh light of day
Like the pilgrim Dante found
you’ve made your home your gallows
and in that isolation
you resist the winds of change
People say that it’s outdated
a quaint archaism extinct
I take delight every word
my pen reveals in deep blue ink
When the envelope delivered
a wad of pages then unfurled
enter now the deep enchantment
from a dear friend across the world
Yes, I’m sure you’ve spent a lot of time
deciding on this plan of action
but let me put you right on one or
two quite seperate specific points
so when this seedling comes to fruit you
won’t have any catastrophic
flaws that we could have avoided
if you’d checked your ego at the door
Sometimes I will fulfil the brief
and tread the paths of diplomats
with hand wringing and feathered speech
niceties and pointless process
In certain moods I cannot see
the point in playing teacher’s pet
when all the phoney talk has flown
rest quite assured I won’t bow down
Friend, promise me will you?
when it comes, you will know it so
do not let it pass
It may present as just a
moment from the ether
when all the world goes silent
but do not let it pass
It is the evening and my mind it turns to deep blue thoughts
and meditations on the mediocre day that was
how did we get here to this insubstantial subsistence?
why do we stay here when we know that this ‘aint all there is?
Mister Swan your countenance
is well known to this author but
each time I go to write about it
your blue eyes disappear
Mister Swan your exploits are
the stuff of dreams that I have dreamt but
each time I set my pen to paper
the ink won’t seem to flow
It is like a creeping water
still at first then dark fingers reach
to rest upon a weary head
and leave it cold and heavy
invade its thoughts with thunder
and black clouds gather
to shadow out the happiness
and infect the air with doubt
but unlike continental storms
this does not pass over
it settles in
So the sensitive boys
all dressed up for the night
make their way in to town
and parade just to spite
those with twisted ideals
the oppressors and fiends
with their bullets and bombs
deadly self righteous schemes
those brave innocent ones
with fear building inside
wear their hearts on their sleeves
you can’t massacre pride
You think that I will just roll over
and take your petty puffed up bullshit
your sweaty gesticulations or
grand and sweeping machinations
with your guard-up pontification
from that worn out plastic podium
sermonising on a subject that you
cannot comprehend let alone teach
LVX CREARE 