deepundergroundpoetry.com
Elegy For David Macleod
Alright brother,
irreverent zephyr,
let’s do this,
raw and unpolished,
let’s do it up,
good and proper.
Noon high sunlight,
heedless of bronze epaulette,
rounding tender,
brown shoulder,
held by hand,
laced and strong,
blue white neons crowing,
from evening saturnalias,
of cities,
warrior,
your shadow stood,
in kind sentinel,
passing over,
rough faces,
illumined,
electric glow,
mists dreaming tendrils curl,
upon the moors,
of Scot’s land,
whose mourning pipes,
are joined from ancient chorus,
in their linear processions,
to now,
to carry you,
sleep in soft repose,
in this parting hour’s lament,
in this final release,
from woes.
The room vibrates in solitude,
sad,
somehow,
apologetic,
to ask,
if you knew that message,
of love,
appreciation,
was the last,
we would share,
Where go you now?
What ship carries you hence?
to where,
we shall meet again,
in fortitude invisible,
all your strength manifest,
in some ultimate aether,
beyond the gravel belts,
of iron tracks,
hurtling asteroids,
into cold expanse,
of black,
into flames or earth,
what’s left?
you lie in quiet,
repose,
gentle,
gentle soul.
What moves you now,
to apoplectic fit,
of laughter,
quirked eyebrow raising,
the desert mounds,
of lost atlantis,
it’s mythic vanguard,
hands raised,
amidst wave torn dunes,
solemn browed,
over shattered colossus,
kneeling beneath coral beard,
and ages,
merciless time has swallowed,
and ages.
Spirit,
defiant of departure,
rise in atmospheric fires,
rise in rust triumph,
orange patina sunset,
crest the deep wells,
of his solemn gaze,
in molecular reduction,
to constituent ash,
a phantasm,
become,
a great energy.
Brother,
thank you,
for such kindness,
and we were young,
when broken thus,
and tender,
beautiful in form,
in violence wake,
we shared,
the rising sun,
which foments its wreckage,
consolidated within,
in a rage of compassion,
in wretched and soiled extremity,
in maw fire,
pinion fingered hurricane,
in great and terrible splendor,
dragon avatar,
to begin our equatorial climb,
and you knew me,
gentle ghost,
you were me.
And years came and went,
cycling east to west,
in earnest conversation,
fraternal quietude,
stretched between us,
in companionable understanding,
and you showed me strength,
warmth,
music in the shadow that lengthened,
the afternoons,
and tales of who you’d been,
and what it meant to you,
this is my vision,
now,
when all else is rendered down,
to an unanswered letter,
slipped beneath the drawn mouth,
of a still door.
And the peace you sought,
eternity,
now,
in your breast,
beyond the confines,
of limb,
triaged,
afore your ascent,
shadowed bower cast off,
beneath the exultant violence,
of your wings,
some gathering host,
blasting horns,
an esplanade of thunders,
beneath your redolent heels,
calling backward,
to this lone room,
where I look at a picture of you,
eyes in soft candled sunlight,
haloed by a cavalcade of gods.
Striving no more,
is all your struggling now done,
or have you taken up a new array,
to smite slugs,
that tracked across your path,
unable to share the way,
with such low company.
I am a ghost in the machine,
my teeth are keys,
skull resting on a cantilevered mantle,
calling to your shade,
numen arcing wax spittle,
into shadows sway,
god is here,
upon my modest shoulder,
whispering quietly,
to herself.
Tomorrow will not hold,
bright spears peeling back,
the nights lament,
you are there,
standing with hands emptied,
of their storylines,
and soulless vehicles keep roaring,
noxious breaths,
djinn hovering over the metropolis,
skins shining their wings,
of skyward wax,
slow heat the kettle,
you’ve left,
grievances fallen,
beside a bed rail,
and here we remain,
to sleep and rise,
and do you some small honours.
After our friendship has gone,
and left this earth,
beggarly,
spinning into quiet constellations,
in cadence of thought,
in ragged womb’s emergence,
of constant renewals,
I am alone,
and the living,
are all equal,
all alone,
and my heart sings,
in remembrance,
in sorrow,
but is somehow glad,
you are not alone,
not anymore.
And what greater legacy,
than to hurtle through space,
a loosed arrow,
earth in green erotic poetries,
dancing on its toes,
to what great celestial musics,
the spheres yet hold,
lonely,
yes,
and so much more lonely,
than it’s cold tombs,
set beneath a still sheet,
of earth,
its sweetly tendered homes,
nightly lit,
and recumbent rooms,
than all its still silent bosom holds.
Warrior,
you are loved,
you are missed.
..
Elegy For David Macleod
by,
his friend,
Daniel Christensen
irreverent zephyr,
let’s do this,
raw and unpolished,
let’s do it up,
good and proper.
Noon high sunlight,
heedless of bronze epaulette,
rounding tender,
brown shoulder,
held by hand,
laced and strong,
blue white neons crowing,
from evening saturnalias,
of cities,
warrior,
your shadow stood,
in kind sentinel,
passing over,
rough faces,
illumined,
electric glow,
mists dreaming tendrils curl,
upon the moors,
of Scot’s land,
whose mourning pipes,
are joined from ancient chorus,
in their linear processions,
to now,
to carry you,
sleep in soft repose,
in this parting hour’s lament,
in this final release,
from woes.
The room vibrates in solitude,
sad,
somehow,
apologetic,
to ask,
if you knew that message,
of love,
appreciation,
was the last,
we would share,
Where go you now?
What ship carries you hence?
to where,
we shall meet again,
in fortitude invisible,
all your strength manifest,
in some ultimate aether,
beyond the gravel belts,
of iron tracks,
hurtling asteroids,
into cold expanse,
of black,
into flames or earth,
what’s left?
you lie in quiet,
repose,
gentle,
gentle soul.
What moves you now,
to apoplectic fit,
of laughter,
quirked eyebrow raising,
the desert mounds,
of lost atlantis,
it’s mythic vanguard,
hands raised,
amidst wave torn dunes,
solemn browed,
over shattered colossus,
kneeling beneath coral beard,
and ages,
merciless time has swallowed,
and ages.
Spirit,
defiant of departure,
rise in atmospheric fires,
rise in rust triumph,
orange patina sunset,
crest the deep wells,
of his solemn gaze,
in molecular reduction,
to constituent ash,
a phantasm,
become,
a great energy.
Brother,
thank you,
for such kindness,
and we were young,
when broken thus,
and tender,
beautiful in form,
in violence wake,
we shared,
the rising sun,
which foments its wreckage,
consolidated within,
in a rage of compassion,
in wretched and soiled extremity,
in maw fire,
pinion fingered hurricane,
in great and terrible splendor,
dragon avatar,
to begin our equatorial climb,
and you knew me,
gentle ghost,
you were me.
And years came and went,
cycling east to west,
in earnest conversation,
fraternal quietude,
stretched between us,
in companionable understanding,
and you showed me strength,
warmth,
music in the shadow that lengthened,
the afternoons,
and tales of who you’d been,
and what it meant to you,
this is my vision,
now,
when all else is rendered down,
to an unanswered letter,
slipped beneath the drawn mouth,
of a still door.
And the peace you sought,
eternity,
now,
in your breast,
beyond the confines,
of limb,
triaged,
afore your ascent,
shadowed bower cast off,
beneath the exultant violence,
of your wings,
some gathering host,
blasting horns,
an esplanade of thunders,
beneath your redolent heels,
calling backward,
to this lone room,
where I look at a picture of you,
eyes in soft candled sunlight,
haloed by a cavalcade of gods.
Striving no more,
is all your struggling now done,
or have you taken up a new array,
to smite slugs,
that tracked across your path,
unable to share the way,
with such low company.
I am a ghost in the machine,
my teeth are keys,
skull resting on a cantilevered mantle,
calling to your shade,
numen arcing wax spittle,
into shadows sway,
god is here,
upon my modest shoulder,
whispering quietly,
to herself.
Tomorrow will not hold,
bright spears peeling back,
the nights lament,
you are there,
standing with hands emptied,
of their storylines,
and soulless vehicles keep roaring,
noxious breaths,
djinn hovering over the metropolis,
skins shining their wings,
of skyward wax,
slow heat the kettle,
you’ve left,
grievances fallen,
beside a bed rail,
and here we remain,
to sleep and rise,
and do you some small honours.
After our friendship has gone,
and left this earth,
beggarly,
spinning into quiet constellations,
in cadence of thought,
in ragged womb’s emergence,
of constant renewals,
I am alone,
and the living,
are all equal,
all alone,
and my heart sings,
in remembrance,
in sorrow,
but is somehow glad,
you are not alone,
not anymore.
And what greater legacy,
than to hurtle through space,
a loosed arrow,
earth in green erotic poetries,
dancing on its toes,
to what great celestial musics,
the spheres yet hold,
lonely,
yes,
and so much more lonely,
than it’s cold tombs,
set beneath a still sheet,
of earth,
its sweetly tendered homes,
nightly lit,
and recumbent rooms,
than all its still silent bosom holds.
Warrior,
you are loved,
you are missed.
..
Elegy For David Macleod
by,
his friend,
Daniel Christensen
Published 22nd Jan 2021
| Edited 24th Jan 2021
Author's Note
"I need to thank you for your friendship, support, and love. I need to tell you how much they are appreciated. I wish for you dear brother every good thing, light, and love in 2021." His final message to me.
Copyright © 2021 by Daniel Christensen. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Copyright © 2021 by Daniel Christensen. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 31
reading list entries 25
comments 9
reads 956
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
22nd Jan 2021 6:28am
22nd Jan 2021 5:08pm
24th Jan 2021 1:29am
An epic Daniel. So beautiful and powerful, especially the way you read. Love it.
Jasmine
Jasmine
28th Jan 2021 6:17am
This is beautiful, so heartfelt and amazing in its stellar descriptions 💕
6th Feb 2021 5:40pm
7th Feb 2021 5:03pm
6th Mar 2021 5:16pm
Aw oh noh, David passed away! I have known him since joining on here with his fine comments too.
What a stellar awesome elegy you wrote him, I like the idea of hurtling through space like asteroids, your brilliant imagination is soaring here on somethings that must be true actually, your wording top notch and great, your phrasings spectacular. Kudos!!!
What a stellar awesome elegy you wrote him, I like the idea of hurtling through space like asteroids, your brilliant imagination is soaring here on somethings that must be true actually, your wording top notch and great, your phrasings spectacular. Kudos!!!
Anonymous
4th Apr 2021 6:05am
This had me in pieces. Clearly you had a beautiful friendship. This is an exquisite tribute of that connection, and the wondrous man he must of been 💔
10th Jul 2021 4:38pm
