Dawn scatters these abandoned skies, cankered in memories of bone and burned outcast grey with the clinkers.

I say do as you’re told

Reborn days blink ashtray eyes, another nightlight outgrown and called into flesh by the fragrance of stinkers.

when you’re alone with the enemy

Torn dolls in hearsay lies, tales of rag and truth postponed and woven silk into the control of blinkers.

dance on the stolen road

Worn blank the replay dies, futures carved deep in headstones and riddled into the moss of night thinkers.

kiss away autonomy

Sworn to betray goodbyes, the rise and fall of empires condoned and sealed tight in the crushing of whimpers.

drink the lead in boiling gold

Mourn away doomsday cries, hopes flee overthrown and we who would be gods go crawling with the death of drinkers.

and find nothing but the silence of alchemy

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17 thoughts on “Rag and Bone

  1. What strange rooms beyond black curtains lie, in your miasmic mind’s eye. Your style appeals on so many levels, I don’t think I’ll ever be let down by the things that crawl out of those sombre rooms.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. BTW (quite pathetically replying to self I realise ;-)), have to figure out why your posts don’t seem to come through on the reader in my app, if it’s technical or just me that I get to see them with a few days’ lag in which case I blame it on the distractions of the daily grind. In any case, I’m reassessing whether the answer to the elemental question is 42 or perhaps rather a profound calmness to be found in the silence of alchemy. Your writing is awesome. More, please.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Hahaha, I know the feeling! If I’ve not checked in for a while, my app helpfully compresses the reader stream. Although it’s more than likely that my writing is so used to going straight to slush piles, it goes there by itself now.
    The answer is always 42, mate.

    Liked by 1 person

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