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There was a noise downstairs Heard it creep into what we read Whilst in my ears it starts to shout A sound that slowly sows its seeds Then in the knees it wins the bout I hear it growing closer To the threshold of doors long shut Before clawing into the room Through our bodies And the windows too Hear it repeatedly speaking of Mother’s sons born blue All polluted in utero Cold water and yellow fog While others hawked their morals above Hear holy words said to us Proverbs two one two three Do not move our mouths too much But never mention That more than holy spirits touch Hear that change comes When the North Atlantic Nears our lungs But sadness when we only get To remember him while he was young Hear it ring out between What all the emptied pens believe That parts of us have contravened When our hearts fester from scene to scene Betwixt the Romans and the Pharisees Hear it in words of grace In the void where your spine should place When stood between tectonic plates nor time nor stasis emancipates The silence of our delegates Then hear it in atomic air The souvenirs of yesteryear That spill and mix into our despair The thoughts our hammers won’t repair There is still a noise downstairs
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Mar 8, 2019
Mar 8, 2019 at 2:41 PM UTC
The Noise
There was a noise downstairs Heard it creep into what we read Whilst in my ears it starts to shout A sound that slowly sows its seeds Then in the knees it wins the bout I hear it growing closer To the threshold of doors long shut Before clawing into the room Through our bodies And the windows too Hear it repeatedly speaking of Mother’s sons born blue All polluted in utero Cold water and yellow fog While others hawked their morals above Hear holy words said to us Proverbs two one two three Do not move our mouths too much But never mention That more than holy spirits touch Hear that change comes When the North Atlantic Nears our lungs But sadness when we only get To remember him while he was young Hear it ring out between What all the emptied pens believe That parts of us have contravened When our hearts fester from scene to scene Betwixt the Romans and the Pharisees Hear it in words of grace In the void where your spine should place When stood between tectonic plates nor time nor stasis emancipates The silence of our delegates Then hear it in atomic air The souvenirs of yesteryear That spill and mix into our despair The thoughts our hammers won’t repair There is still a noise downstairs
attheharbour
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Mar 8, 2019
Mar 8, 2019 at 2:41 PM UTC
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