Category: Filí my pockets
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Winter criminal
No need of a bally anymore No new CVs in Templemore Peeling season upbraiding Henge vengeful Door to dark nebulae Raised in dawn ages In hate’s mist wraithed Sore-cheeked queen reigning, breath razor’d Climes brumal, brutal inclemency encrystals Galilean glassed voluminous, sinking vessels Fatal night to be homeless, Gelid flaying aeons of ice replaying Direwolves…
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Apocalyptic palette
Black and white and red all over Not a knave left taming kestrels Death which is breathless, balding Recalling vilest cancers, sore incurable Angst and lancinating pain unendurable Real as Durer’s grass, realer than real Fixity’s cessation, bubbling floors rubbled nations A heat risen which steel melts to mithril puddle A wobbly, hot mushroom apocalypse…
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Lover’s Declaration IV
Looking upon that frail image Of dashed innocence handsome Fractured armature obscene, needless casualty Why, Jove? Bleeding for loves which in actuality Divorced from lover fantasy Could never happen Young captains cut down standing Loaves never to leaven, for them heavengoing Like a crab crushed, rushed by gulls Never to grow to a man full…
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Lover’s Declaration III
Which Valhallite for more life would not stake All hours unlife’s estatial halls wineful gloried Who chooses stained glass immortality Over corn’s faintest Elysian brush Hasting wind making baled hay hiss Sand reforming in awe-ordered fist. Dead and so forever Flown through the arches Dark dress, mourners marching Blessed now, regardless Whether ripe-hearted or charmless.…
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Richard II
In the second Richard’s court, adorned with riches Fine stitch, strides and britches of such wickwork That a seamstress was booked a year through. Priding cleanliness and cleverness Nobles keep snotted favours asleeve Adoring lore’s exhortation Inhalation of manuscripts All things golden and grand Death is ever close at hand.
Alchemisland 