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**** like
a carnivore
read poetry
Kevin J Taylor Sep 2019
Sent into Hell
with Good News to tell
a prophet-god
stepped from the sky

Later, high on a hill
the General Will
hung a man on a cross
till he died

Whereat most of the guilty
and all of the saints
did hang him forever
in plaster and paint

Whilst all of the Merchants
of Death and Death's kin
rage in gilt chains
forged of withholds and sin
..
Not all poems survive. I've lost a few and let others go. My current collection of poems is available on Kindle and in paperback. It is called "3201 e's" (that is approximately how many e's are in the manuscript which is a very unpoetic title but a reflection on the creation of poetry by common means.)
Kevin J Taylor Sep 2019
they fought us back / we fought them down / on in the air / in on the ground / millennia / millennia / we carry on

from thundercloud / we fleet as rain / clapping corrugated tin / rising from the sea again / rising silently again

under dark assembled things / assembling / assembling / broken straws / severed wings / in all the ground a war of things / too late / we carry on
.

This poem was originally written with a couple of f-bombs in place of "fought" but in order to make it more accessible to a wider group of readers I've created this version. The other one is on this page somewhere.

Not all poems survive. I've lost a few and let others go. My current collection of poems is available on Kindle. It is called "3201 e's" (that is approximately how many e's are in the manuscript which is a very unpoetic title but a reflection on the creation of poetry from common things.)
Kevin J Taylor Aug 2019
Individual death is not enough.
Cities of death are not enough.
Entire civilizations of dead, now dust,
And they are not enough.
Extinction events are not enough.
Galaxies of death. Infinities of death.
Extinguishment of all life everywhere,
All forms past or present,
Real and imagined.
Featureless.  
Full stop.
Absolute death.
.

I read a story about men in long black coats...
Kevin J Taylor Jul 2019
From out of the lights the Free Beings came
From out of the cities the Free Beings came

From out of the forests the Free Beings came
From out of the fields the Free Beings came

From out of the mountains the Free Beings came
From out of the darkness the Free Beings came

And the Free Beings are here
And the Free Beings are here

And the Free Beings are amongst us
.
Not all poems survive. I've lost a few and let others go. My current collection of poems is available on Kindle and in paperback. It is called "3201 e's" (that is approximately how many e's are in the manuscript which is a very unpoetic title but a reflection on the creation of poetry by common means.)
Kevin J Taylor Apr 2019
It's snowing
Crows racing, caw-calling
Old hemlocks waiting
.
Not all poems survive. I've lost a few and let others go. My current collection of poems is available on Kindle and in paperback. It is called "3201 e's" (that is approximately how many e's are in the manuscript which is a very unpoetic title but a reflection on the creation of poetry by common means.)
Kevin J Taylor Apr 2019
Below the smoking cliffs
We wait and parting ways

To live a while between the fires
You, there

And I
And Who had come

Already tall against the night
Eight threads

Eight shining cords
Of livingness

Are we not eight,
But one—Just so
.
Not all poems survive. I've lost a few and let others go. My current collection of poems is available on Kindle and in paperback. It is called "3201 e's" (that is approximately how many e's are in the manuscript which is a very unpoetic title but a reflection on the creation of poetry by common means.)
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