When the party is over
the rook shall rest his beak
and nod in awe
to mad worlds;
praise the Motorhead,
applaud the sand!
Riff cities from cider temples
where quiet unrest hold murders of young birds
spellbound as they fight for mother...
@Steven Francis Poems 20013
More poetry from Welsh poet/writer Steven Francis. Described by one reviewer as "the poet with a magic microscope into human emotion", Steven is a fascinating walk into a dawn where the sun reveals everything...
Friday, 27 September 2013
Pauper, the Next
What is this I see before me?
Hell in all its glory...
Die.
Pass into emblem of state,
no file await the Hollywood
this time.
No Nightingale lines the larynx.
Not for you
flashpoint God
Of yellow lines and slender tantrum.
Adore today
adieu today,
but not the night
when you silently pass
(without fanfare)
into the It,
the What.
Whatever.
Bone broke
Thomas with green,
brackets with sulphur.
Click boxes
and the bait men would raise
and seethe...
©Steven Francis poems 2013
For the Hollywood pampered who in the next world become bone.
@Steven Francis 2009
Hell in all its glory...
Die.
Pass into emblem of state,
no file await the Hollywood
this time.
No Nightingale lines the larynx.
Not for you
flashpoint God
Of yellow lines and slender tantrum.
Adore today
adieu today,
but not the night
when you silently pass
(without fanfare)
into the It,
the What.
Whatever.
Bone broke
Thomas with green,
brackets with sulphur.
Click boxes
and the bait men would raise
and seethe...
©Steven Francis poems 2013
For the Hollywood pampered who in the next world become bone.
@Steven Francis 2009
Thursday, 5 September 2013
Laughs Out Allowed
Werewolf lord with shipwrecked smile
know that there is no humour in vanity,
no mirth in easy offence
so drop the mule act
and find a style of YOURS not THEM.
No to God.
No to copyright.
No to Gossip, Kings and Love
(all capitals),
but fret not ham diamond Buddha.
The words in this stanza
do not apply to you my would-be hero...
©Steven Francis poems 2013
know that there is no humour in vanity,
no mirth in easy offence
so drop the mule act
and find a style of YOURS not THEM.
No to God.
No to copyright.
No to Gossip, Kings and Love
(all capitals),
but fret not ham diamond Buddha.
The words in this stanza
do not apply to you my would-be hero...
©Steven Francis poems 2013
Wednesday, 4 September 2013
Quick Kings
Slowly into darkess crawl,
toward yellow sickly eyes
that fall
flush between a noble light
of dawn and dusk,
a sanguin flight...
©Steven Francis poems 2013
toward yellow sickly eyes
that fall
flush between a noble light
of dawn and dusk,
a sanguin flight...
©Steven Francis poems 2013
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