deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Mosaic
Oh it must be the ludes yet again...I am wet hairs deep in marshes of mind...
I was somewhere moody and running with limns, but haunting
and drinking the liquid of a darkened stream with tepid daemons,
I was picking flowerless petals by the Lethe, oh did
Adonis finally succumb to your courtings?
Is he a secret fan of Hades in basements?
he enjoys this effrontery I wonder how many
Joves or Doves flew now knowing
there was stillness in these rivers and nothing
kept nor bloomed, was forever in Ariel's stasis in darkness was
Pouring, oh rich, how these petals have grown, they mirror the
choirs of rich boys and Romans holding old noses, praying in
Aether of music which gilded and silvered their tongues, airy tongues, left wafers
of paper thin air more petals, immortal, that imaged through something, the pulpit, was quaffing
gargling joys, I had not seen so many dead fathers, crying men and statue wives, O opally
skinfolds of ivory, inlays, jewelers requests, the darkness at noon and at Mary's behest, I, counting the Greek
Hours as they passed by Plato prosaic, compounded in fractals on Gothic mosaic , I
imagined myself a father of four, fixing teeth with delicate ore, and thinking O
thinking of Horus before, and the Saturnine blankets of eliots drawers, O mother, O sister, O
Father to me, where is the Roman who pilfers your trees? And will leave us droughting o
water yes please, is this man the one who gave jesus such pain, and will we be forgotten in portugals
rain? No tyranny for our sugar cane...
fancied an image of something surreal and was swept, reversed, into
Greek olden times, oh cherubs and pixies and goblins be gone, this is the realm of
The Demogorgon, who in sheer blackened image of blinds and of blurs
enraptures all Athens in sinuous furs...
Hark, there in the midden! Roust well me hearties, for there in the vortex is Jonah himself!
recast and remingled as The Devil of Athens! O bulbous flailing arms&stringencies!
Warn the King, warn the Wellers, here is a beast even Queequeg would fear!
oh parades of flailing arms, robes braces lutes, stampeding, winding, driving down
doors of scrolls and reason, with a maddening trembling palpable fear, the people are flowerless
petals! No bloom to call home, and will write their own nausea into something grotesque!
They have all heard stories of the dreaded Leviathan, who in classical times rejected
Zeus and attempted to swallow Athens in three or four
bites, and bled profusely as the Neptunes
came to rid his abortioning evils
and swept him clean under Hermes rugs, this Poseiden did not
falter, as Rome and Greece were cooked in cauldron and welded,
metal on metal, sturdier bodies with sturdier minds, and all fear fled at once...
Oh sweet Thames run softly till I end my song
Sweet Thames run softly for I speak not loud nor long
I mean no fetter harm, wish malice for naught,
Protholamian spake thus and I have not forgot
O Mother Rome, no harm on thy body done,
O Sister Greece, no harm on thy pussy done,
remember who fucked who, they says, remember who fucked who they says
I remember who fucked me specific
there are things you do not forget
pagan, christian or baphomet
its all the same I bet
slavery dying with romans, O
the relation of african sugar
where portugal knew something
fresh and sent
"men" to survey and conquer these pockets
and with that a thousand years of silence died
in their arms the niggers carried
baskets of sugar cane, stalk and christmas green, almost
made you feel happy but
then you looked in her eyes[font=Trebuchet MS][/font]
I was somewhere moody and running with limns, but haunting
and drinking the liquid of a darkened stream with tepid daemons,
I was picking flowerless petals by the Lethe, oh did
Adonis finally succumb to your courtings?
Is he a secret fan of Hades in basements?
he enjoys this effrontery I wonder how many
Joves or Doves flew now knowing
there was stillness in these rivers and nothing
kept nor bloomed, was forever in Ariel's stasis in darkness was
Pouring, oh rich, how these petals have grown, they mirror the
choirs of rich boys and Romans holding old noses, praying in
Aether of music which gilded and silvered their tongues, airy tongues, left wafers
of paper thin air more petals, immortal, that imaged through something, the pulpit, was quaffing
gargling joys, I had not seen so many dead fathers, crying men and statue wives, O opally
skinfolds of ivory, inlays, jewelers requests, the darkness at noon and at Mary's behest, I, counting the Greek
Hours as they passed by Plato prosaic, compounded in fractals on Gothic mosaic , I
imagined myself a father of four, fixing teeth with delicate ore, and thinking O
thinking of Horus before, and the Saturnine blankets of eliots drawers, O mother, O sister, O
Father to me, where is the Roman who pilfers your trees? And will leave us droughting o
water yes please, is this man the one who gave jesus such pain, and will we be forgotten in portugals
rain? No tyranny for our sugar cane...
fancied an image of something surreal and was swept, reversed, into
Greek olden times, oh cherubs and pixies and goblins be gone, this is the realm of
The Demogorgon, who in sheer blackened image of blinds and of blurs
enraptures all Athens in sinuous furs...
Hark, there in the midden! Roust well me hearties, for there in the vortex is Jonah himself!
recast and remingled as The Devil of Athens! O bulbous flailing arms&stringencies!
Warn the King, warn the Wellers, here is a beast even Queequeg would fear!
oh parades of flailing arms, robes braces lutes, stampeding, winding, driving down
doors of scrolls and reason, with a maddening trembling palpable fear, the people are flowerless
petals! No bloom to call home, and will write their own nausea into something grotesque!
They have all heard stories of the dreaded Leviathan, who in classical times rejected
Zeus and attempted to swallow Athens in three or four
bites, and bled profusely as the Neptunes
came to rid his abortioning evils
and swept him clean under Hermes rugs, this Poseiden did not
falter, as Rome and Greece were cooked in cauldron and welded,
metal on metal, sturdier bodies with sturdier minds, and all fear fled at once...
Oh sweet Thames run softly till I end my song
Sweet Thames run softly for I speak not loud nor long
I mean no fetter harm, wish malice for naught,
Protholamian spake thus and I have not forgot
O Mother Rome, no harm on thy body done,
O Sister Greece, no harm on thy pussy done,
remember who fucked who, they says, remember who fucked who they says
I remember who fucked me specific
there are things you do not forget
pagan, christian or baphomet
its all the same I bet
slavery dying with romans, O
the relation of african sugar
where portugal knew something
fresh and sent
"men" to survey and conquer these pockets
and with that a thousand years of silence died
in their arms the niggers carried
baskets of sugar cane, stalk and christmas green, almost
made you feel happy but
then you looked in her eyes[font=Trebuchet MS][/font]
Published 30th Jan 2015
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