The Lucifer Cantos 5/13
V
Dogs growl of genesis in shattered light,
no gods but Death, a devil’s flashing flight.
*
I...
a cry,
salt and mud,
meat, bone and blood,
masked shrike of red mirth,
cleave waves and crags, the earth
in time's eye, worlds spun in silk,
blue skies, bright sun, the stars as milk.
I croon each name to bring each form new,
a sip of wine, a crust of bread, for you.
*
You...
my true
love and light
by day and night,
slim boy of corn death,
spin souls and signs, the breath
of kissed lips, plough fields of grass,
carve wood and stone, melt sand to glass.
You raise towns of brick on roads of dust,
my flute, my drum, my lyre to strum, in lust.
*
We...
a tree,
branch and root,
green leaf, gold fruit,
sap sweet to the taste,
know care and crime, have faced
our bare selves, sewn suits of skin,
and laugh at pain, my gaze, your grin.
We jest at this gate, the guard, the wall;
and mock this duke, his curse on us, his fall.
*
They...
red clay,
quick and dead,
steel hand, bronze head,
fine beasts of rough tools,
trade death and life, build schools
for their lord, no goats but sheep
who pray the sword their throats to keep.
They drowse in the church, flap hands, clap hymns,
and praise his name, his game of shame, his sins.
Dogs growl of genesis in shattered light,
no gods but Death, a devil’s flashing flight.
*
I...
a cry,
salt and mud,
meat, bone and blood,
masked shrike of red mirth,
cleave waves and crags, the earth
in time's eye, worlds spun in silk,
blue skies, bright sun, the stars as milk.
I croon each name to bring each form new,
a sip of wine, a crust of bread, for you.
*
You...
my true
love and light
by day and night,
slim boy of corn death,
spin souls and signs, the breath
of kissed lips, plough fields of grass,
carve wood and stone, melt sand to glass.
You raise towns of brick on roads of dust,
my flute, my drum, my lyre to strum, in lust.
*
We...
a tree,
branch and root,
green leaf, gold fruit,
sap sweet to the taste,
know care and crime, have faced
our bare selves, sewn suits of skin,
and laugh at pain, my gaze, your grin.
We jest at this gate, the guard, the wall;
and mock this duke, his curse on us, his fall.
*
They...
red clay,
quick and dead,
steel hand, bronze head,
fine beasts of rough tools,
trade death and life, build schools
for their lord, no goats but sheep
who pray the sword their throats to keep.
They drowse in the church, flap hands, clap hymns,
and praise his name, his game of shame, his sins.
Labels: Lucifer Cantos
2 Comments:
Brilliant. Looking forward to more. Jack and Puck haunting you again?
Heh, always. Though Death and the devil have been... acquaintances, shall we say, even longer than those two.
But, yeah, cheers. :D
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