Saturday, April 04, 2009

System Critical


NoMe Edonna ~ Untitled

Low flying clouds obscure the view from where the sirens call
The sea baits its breath in anticipation of Icarus’ fall
Gulls hold court to elect an ambassador to the Ministry of Hate
Fill the air with cries and bones and meaningless debate

Decaying flesh in tailored suits with pockets lined in gold
Driftwood, distressed, confess - how cheaply they were sold
We scatter pigeons as we cross the sand to catch a cold
Folding paper aeroplanes believing what we’re told

The magician shows his empty sleeve then takes his pay in spite
Dressing vultures up as doves to shit from dizzy heights
Upon our declarations, deals, labour laws and basic human rights
He leaves us burnt with headline news to warm our winter nights

6 comments:

Megan said...

Oh, you're good. Thanks for bringing your verse to my attention. Seriously.

Jimmy Bastard said...

"Decaying flesh in tailored suits with pockets lined in gold
Driftwood, distressed, confess - how cheaply they were sold
"

Now that's a line.

Candie Bracci said...

Really good ;)

Yodood said...

My breath is bated lest I breathe in the reek of bait on the breath of the sea awaiting the flaming flier falling free.

Here's my take on that magician cheating and heating my nights.

Pisces Iscariot said...

Megan: I am glad you enjoy it - honest.

Jimmy: Welcome - the arse-kissing old boys hanging around in London this week give plenty of juice for good lines :)

Thanks Candie! >ooD

Dood: all bow at the altar of money ;] Your post is spot on.

Cinnamon said...

Agree with Jimmy re those lines.