deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Evil Golden Light
Doomed to mediocrity and shining awful hate,
we cannot see the lie abate,
the peer and mate
abide with each other.
Instead we smother
light of all humidity and hue,
releasing it at last as melancholia,
golden and exquisite in its pain.
I talk with a cracked instrument,
my voice emerging from
a cracked and sorrowful
imagining, a mind that's grooved
and re-moulded in all the wrong places.
I don't know what to do. I don't know what to say.
I spread out my verse with we's and colloquial speech
to hint at some great truth, to do what all the poets try
and make it universal, relevant to everyone.
But I can't see beyond the evil golden light
that speaks of tragedy,
that croons in melancholy,
that tells me life is best destroyed.
we cannot see the lie abate,
the peer and mate
abide with each other.
Instead we smother
light of all humidity and hue,
releasing it at last as melancholia,
golden and exquisite in its pain.
I talk with a cracked instrument,
my voice emerging from
a cracked and sorrowful
imagining, a mind that's grooved
and re-moulded in all the wrong places.
I don't know what to do. I don't know what to say.
I spread out my verse with we's and colloquial speech
to hint at some great truth, to do what all the poets try
and make it universal, relevant to everyone.
But I can't see beyond the evil golden light
that speaks of tragedy,
that croons in melancholy,
that tells me life is best destroyed.
Published 26th Apr 2021
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26th Apr 2021 6:20pm
Phew; the power of that final stanza is palpable, Jack. I don't think there is one person who will read this that won't be able to relate in some way due to their past or present experiences. In that, you have succeeded in connecting universally.
