Monday, August 31, 2009

The Centre is Missing


Ogasa Shin

Here is a line of tongue rust wire scarecrow tangled
In a dream field sunset ochre barbed and acutely angled
To catch the horizontal beams of cold sunlight falling
Into the vault of senseless days of winter calling

Here your footsteps tattoo tread the silence shattered
Your thoughts hang air lung ragged exhale tattered
Writ their lines on open graves but failed to save the world
From apologists and scientologists with crooked fingers curled

Here your kisses to my pursed lips cross black stitched
All thoughts of silver flight wing clipped fever ditched
Prohibiting escape to a dictionary of ripped loose words
Corralled lacklustre with the gut-wrench grass-graze herds

Here all talk of lungs and tongues will be declared taboo
Baited breath and sotto-voice will be the deserving end of you
Spine and stitch and binding sucked from all your treasured books
All pages, leaves, harlequin sleeves and unbaited guitar hooks

Here force-fed with belief deceit and loose atomic grief
Scarred by visions fetid, fecund - brutal beyond belief
Stitched into your vertebrae to hang on hooks of hate
All the pretty horrors of a species too close to late

13 comments:

Barlinnie said...

That first verse conjures many an interesting image. Fine words indeed from a master amongst scribes.

James Higham said...

This is getting a bit risque this time, Pisces.

Yodood said...

"All the pretty horrors of a species too close to late"
thinking they must get the last, they accelerate.

Garth said...

Jimmy: hope you had a good holiday :)

James: risque? which page are you reading?

Yodood: and spiral down in ever decreasing circles 'til they disappear up their own orobor-arse

Anonymous said...

I like 'tattoo tread' and 'loose atomic grief'. This is very rich in its language in every stanza.
Dark though.

the walking man said...

Every where we are is here and here is were ever we are. Best to avoid the here for now.

Garth said...

Cinnamon: dark is where it's all at ;]

Walking man: now is where it's all happening :B

Anonymous said...

Pisces, I am one with this but leave my books alone!

James Higham said...

Here your kisses to my pursed lips cross black stitched ...

Panting already. :)

Anonymous said...

;]
BTW I have been meaning to ask you- why are you advertising Garth Eriksson on your sidebar? Is he your other 'nom-de-plume'?

Garth said...

Subby: Guard them well :)

James: to each his own ;]

Cinnamon: who? never heard of him...

Mariana Soffer said...

It is an excelent poem, really, I loved it. It is pretty dark and apocaliptic but with sustainability, you say interesting things about why is what it is

Thanks pieces

Garth said...

Mariana: Thank you, I'm glad you enjoyed it :D

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