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Oct 2018
Such nerve
To have hurled headfirst
From Alaskan obscurity
And hitherto unheard

This fickle instrument
With dough like ambition
Sought to scratch at an original
And remake it in his image

Pausing
With embryonic futility
You sought to **** at the sun for a soliloquy
Supposing to index yourself to infamy

Thick with insistence
You plunged into significance
Readied for incision
And even wore cufflinks

I’m not averse to diamonds or pearls
But you’ll not wear me as fur

My muddled assassin
Suddenly you came
Puncturing me in one brief spurt

But the world continued to turn

Barely wounded by your graceless aim
Yours was a curious delusion
And your awe cushioned me
Kept you human

I never dimmed
Just pondered
As my reflection unravelled to watercolour
And the acrylic peeled off the roof of my chapel

Suddenly clarity

The ogling Quasimodos gawped in their multiples
But this was no Kennedy or Lennon
You didn’t gift us another Yoko

You lunged with malice
Only to cradle my corpse
Like a lifeboat
Or a lifeline
Adoring me
Like Simba
Trying to absorb my greatness

I’d never felt so loved

That was us wed in pen and ink
Blood and blade
Same hymn book same hymn sheet

In came you with a sitar rapping to acid house
And suddenly I was alive
A whole body of work retouched
Master reborn

I clung to nostalgia
Till your blade came and cut my record
Put the needle on my vinyl
And spat magnificent clarity my way

Hiroshima blew up around us
But who are they to say what real love is?
I visited you in prison
Brought you books and gave you a home on parole

You gave me life
Now featherweight and heavyweight live in sweet harmony
Nothing like ebony and ivory

In prison you wrote poems
You gave me one and I turned it into a number one

Blood stained the sidewalk for months
But they abandoned the vigil
When word got out about us

It doesn’t matter
That you’re not a woman
Or that you’re 19 years old
Love is love

The wedding sheets were beige with age
By the time the crowds gave way
The flowers were dandelions wrapped in yesterday’s chip paper

Hungry for fame, they’d say
But for years I’d been fading
When we crossed on the street that day
And you blew me away

Whatever possessed you?
You’ll never say
The children won’t speak to me
But I guess they’re just at that age

End
Scott Gunnion
Written by
Scott Gunnion  30/M/Liverpool
(30/M/Liverpool)   
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