East-West Side Story
Words, as ancient vessels submerged,
Lighten the load of her absence.
Lead me down the winter trail:
No planes fly overhead
Only jet streams of traveller dreams &
Bells being rung under sand washed oceans.
Voda stained cards mark the
Years that have passed
Torn and strung as hospital lights
Strewn under a life-support machine:
Bleep and see how cruelly they sleep.
I sip the morning dew
And drink to the absent.
Do not be afraid of the dark
I am stood in the moonlight,
The man in the iron mask
Making love to you with my thirsty fist.
Eskimo hands thaw in the
Warmth between your thighs,
Galway Bay breeze drifts my
Romany blood to the other side of eternity.
Rain parade, cortege of the miscarried
Limbs walk through village hymns,
Unbutton poppies of the earthís dress.
Snow falls as Jesus tears
Stabled in long white veiled river,
Rings of water pool the bridle path:
In the rain soaked land we must trust.
Father, I must whisper this:
The North wind doth blow
Snow in my eyes descends
Like murderous fire flies,
But my vision is as clear as
The crystal glasses which
Appeared on Christmas Day table.
Did we ever find the child lost in December?
Remember, please remember Dad,
Hopes we shared in broken spectre
Of the glories of the seasons.
Maybe all selves might
Make one self two, and
Maybe the lions will get up and go.
It is not priests, but clowns
Who weep at Godís silence.
All weíve ever had is now
So letís forsake all
Stand tall against
The oncoming traffic, diesel and
Detritus of the human mouth.
In love and faith the suns
Move between mountains.