Your back is almost broken.
Your mind is almost taken.
Your *** is just a token
Of the hearts you've broken
On the day you kneel down.

You used to know the clean cool water
As it drove itself around the bend.
But you forgot the notes from father
His will found you talking without end.

Find the silence frozen in you mind,
The half-song that was your pride.
Feel the stomps of boots on soil.
That's our rythm, and the sign its time to move.

You feel the hands of thunder reaching out to touch
The lightning you forgot was still hidden in your groin.
Everything else you know doesn't matter that much.
Lets find our masks and guns and go find the coins
That only we know were ours, but still belong to us.

You will know the answer to the riddle in her cries.

You will remember every word you ever heard.

You will finally know why you did the things you did.

You will agree with all the reasons why she left.

You will see there's no wrong, but only right.

You will see the ***** dreams she dreams at night.

You are the ****** and the *****.

You are the guard at your master's gate.

You'll hear the the secret that you feared.

The music of the game of masks.

You'll know the end has come and gone.

The sound of lightning when it comes around.

On the day you kneel down.

The Aces check their sleeves,
Hearts rippling across the breeze.
The Queen arises
Slowly,
Torn dress ripped at the knees.

The Jack saw his fill
And quickly took his leave.
Stood trembling in a doorway,
Mind struggling to believe...

The King was an alcoholic,
It was widely known to be so,
Each eve he would sit solemn,
Wine in hand and sword on show,
Clapping to the Jokers' japes
As he danced and sang
About love and fate.
But how was the King to know?
Not two rooms away
His wife had lain,
With a smile and a *****.
Creating a cuckold and a fool...

The Jack had had enough
And promptly marched
To the throne room.
Armed with only knowledge,
Unleashes inevitable typhoon.

The winds will rise,
This house shall succumb,
Imploding inwards
Till the house is done.
And all that remains
Among ash and decay,
Broken hearts and broken spades,
Is the Jokers last laugh.
A mockingbirds call as daylight fades.

1.
white chapel on a hill

sheep dot rugged, earthy slopes

ruminate on warm, sun-kissed dale

endless lines and lines of verdant tones

late afternoon sun slanting

behold, jaune compassion

alfalfa ocherous leans willowy in wind

distance of silence yearns on

afternoon shadows lie within majestic vales

powder-blue ranges in 3D tiers

shadowy rifts, like a painting out of heaven

lone tree not alone, reaches up

blinding turns and rust-coloured bends, twisty trails

two on horseback, apples for sale

reservoir as a hold all for all

brown mud is where redemption lies.


2.
sun dips away, out of reach

beyond the eye's catch

step out car

feel the ping of silence, deeply-alive zing

crowd in and then,

into the slot of torched horizon

the orange world slips . . .




S T, 19 May 2013