Posts Tagged ‘stone’


greige pile of rocks
tumbledown scree
spotted to darker grey by rain
morbid cloud-white day
sunless tedium and depression
spitting rain on rock intermittent
granite embellishment footing a towering cliff
broken rocks- pebbles to boulders
misarranged stochastic pile leans a triangle against vertical cliff
rock-fall upon rock-fall building
a home for lizards and snakes
who sun themselves on the rocks
whisper wind blusters the rain horizontal
rain spatters rocks to dark lead grey
caves and crevice network formed in the scree
home for night creatures
rock logic of stone on stone
impervious to reason or water-colour
too grey
too dull
too empty
we look up and dream of flagrant suicidal leaps from the top of the cliff
to splatter the greige rocks blood-red and organic
painting a more interesting image than this
greige tedium
grey-shadowing mass
of rocks and stones
fallen down to crush


Deep down below
Beneath six feet of loam
Bone on bone on bone
Down with the worms

And midnight’s creatures
Oozing through soil
Ancient stasis of bone on bone
Waiting, waiting, waiting alone

For the holy breath of God
To enliven bone as hard as stone
That holy sacred God-soaked wind
That renders dead bones alive again

Sewing flesh, pumping marrow
Wiping every tear of sorrow
And when this flesh is raised to life
Blood hurtles through new veins

And shadows loom across the plains
Of every man and woman born
Who suffered in a wild world

The stone that broke the bone of sex was wizened
By monster-trolls with multitudes of eyes
The blade that split the carnal sea was sunk
Into a gaping orifice with teeth

No hope of finding life amidst the stars
Say dopey maidens in a well of tears

The bridge that loved the pilgrim sky was bent
By spies and hoboes ruled by roll of die
The dance of time electrifies when high
And whispers to the children of the sky

Who hover batlike in my rotten brain
And feather-tickle flows of vain emotions
With pointy pins of consequence and truth
I’m haunted by a willing daughter dryad
Blackfella dryad translucent in eucalyptus

Slave to the muse which spits upon bone
And waits until the zombies come on home
She says she talks to dead people at night
And crackles madness formed from sibilant souls

So penitent and poisonous like plutonium
Provoking mustard gas inspired exhalations
Of rotten lungs and suppurating sexuality
A skeletal hand draws traces down my back

Finger-tip points and sliding lines in skin
To shape eternity into a nut
And steal a moment from the crux of now
Where statues vomit blood and rot like corpses

Inside the awful testaments of prophets
Vague shadows of ghosts with erratic motives
Lead me by the river of excess
And flicker hallucinations in my eye