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john-ashton-upstonPoems
What an Auspicious night my friends, What a day in fact, What a life What a reflecting Knife, What with it’s ticker-tack bindings taught with rife, Yes with the moon’s self served cursed light That’s right down into my very soul The pull of which yearns evermore for yet Another empty ***** and tet-tet It gets what it rents, it bleeds what it brecks, It feeds what it mets, is leads where it regrets Oh yes my friends Oh yes What an auspicious night What a day in fact What a death And you wake up alone In the village you built years ago Not as you as you are But you as as you were Or some oft changed memory of, like soft spun tar Molded shaped and bent, Broken in fact by the ravages and scars, Of nothing, of no one, of nobody, Of everything, of everyone, of ever body, All humans, all animals, all life No people, no beasts, no strife The cold carcass of the molten sun The future the past of another man’s son, What does it mean, what does it mean, You turn your head in the village But every stone is me The night ends to the rise Of not a start but a doom Luck is gone Love was a chemistry Engineered and now revereried Lipple lap the gods they laugh As the dice has been cast low and strung Aye further now you’ve fallen but higher you have come You split yourself in pieces unbeknownst to anyone Even your own mind unwitting to the deception As the chortles bortle onwards ad nauseum This prophecy disintegrating as it goes on What is left what is left You sat there alone for years stuck This is just the price to pay For the dam of time to unbrook What an auspicious night my friends In fact What a day In fact
0
Apr 22, 2019
Apr 22, 2019 at 5:40 AM UTC
An Auspicious Night
What an Auspicious night my friends, What a day in fact, What a life What a reflecting Knife, What with it’s ticker-tack bindings taught with rife, Yes with the moon’s self served cursed light That’s right down into my very soul The pull of which yearns evermore for yet Another empty ***** and tet-tet It gets what it rents, it bleeds what it brecks, It feeds what it mets, is leads where it regrets Oh yes my friends Oh yes What an auspicious night What a day in fact What a death And you wake up alone In the village you built years ago Not as you as you are But you as as you were Or some oft changed memory of, like soft spun tar Molded shaped and bent, Broken in fact by the ravages and scars, Of nothing, of no one, of nobody, Of everything, of everyone, of ever body, All humans, all animals, all life No people, no beasts, no strife The cold carcass of the molten sun The future the past of another man’s son, What does it mean, what does it mean, You turn your head in the village But every stone is me The night ends to the rise Of not a start but a doom Luck is gone Love was a chemistry Engineered and now revereried Lipple lap the gods they laugh As the dice has been cast low and strung Aye further now you’ve fallen but higher you have come You split yourself in pieces unbeknownst to anyone Even your own mind unwitting to the deception As the chortles bortle onwards ad nauseum This prophecy disintegrating as it goes on What is left what is left You sat there alone for years stuck This is just the price to pay For the dam of time to unbrook What an auspicious night my friends In fact What a day In fact
john-ashton-upston
Written by
john-ashton-upston
American
Apr 22, 2019
Apr 22, 2019 at 5:40 AM UTC
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