salvation poem


Four Rivers

Songs of the Everyday

I hear the empty chat of egoists and idiots
On priapic blogs and busy trains.
For sure, their thoughtless words are innocent
And emptiness alone attracts no blame.
But word on hollow word will flow like acrid bitumen
To pave our streets and clog our drains.

And oh! this shit is ever flowing
Bearing rumour and disease
Out of every open vein it’s flowing
Into rivers, into seas.

And I see people turn and walk on by.
Why would you risk it all when no one else is trying?
Much better to pretend that we are unaffected.
But with such action on inaction piled high,
Such monuments are soon to be erected
As make dictators blush and demons cry.

And the blood, the blood is flowing
Running fresh on healing scars
Painting thick the broken nails
Clawing blindly at the stars.

And I look, searchingly, at passing faces –
They turn away their silent gaze.
And millions of innocently silent eyes
Become entire nations of the guiltlessly compliant
At first just innocent protectors of each others’ lies.
And then they turn on those that still remain defiant.

And my tears, my tears are flowing
And they’re dripping off my chin
Onto your face, so calm in knowing,
Into the creases of your skin.

And every acrid drop and every tear
Is a letter on my page.
And words and sentences appear
That beg me not to disengage.
These braided sentences run deep, in everlasting love
For all that lies below and all our flights above.

And these words, these words are flowing
And they’re streaming down your face
And down the faces of the faithful others
Who’d sit to write them in my place.

– 0  –

Another productive couple of train journeys…  beats rotting my brain reading Metro eh.