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In the chaos of the city, City!
Where the wolven on the prowl,
Hot legs and looking pretty, leather skirt and upturned scowl,
You know it won’t discourage ditty, it only raises lustful howls,
In the chaos of the city, (pause)…a hunter’s stalking you now-ow-ow! (nowel)

In the chaos of the city, City!
Out at night you wanna dance, (day-ance)
To the animals you’re pretty, in those heels with that prance, (pray-ance)
In the chaos of the city, wolves are out to bed you down, (day-oun)
In the chaos of the city, tonight it’s *** out on the town, (tay-oun)

In the chaos of the city! City!
While trailing scent all a-round, (a-ray-ound)
Curvy-body, lookin’ at-cha (pause)… my teeth glistening, open mouth, (may-outh)
They’re not asking for much yeah, won’t be saying baby please,
Wolves you know they’re gonna hunt-cha, strutting past Ole’ factories,
Drivin’ n’ dancing yah, till you’re exhausted on your knees,

In the chaos of the city, City!
Out at night you wanna dance, (day-ance)

To the animals you’re pretty, Pretty!
In your heels they watch you prance, (pray-ance)

In the chaos of the city, City!
Wolves are out to bed you down, (day-oun)

In the chaos of the city, City!
Tonight it’s *** out in the town, (tay-oun)

In the chaos of the city, City!
In the chaos of the city,

In the chaos of the city, City!
Feel his claws up on you now…

Ooh-Ooh, …In the chaos of the city,
In the chaos of the city,
In the chaos of the city,
In the chaos of the city…
Lyrical poetry or song.
Seeing we never found gay fairyland
(Though still we crouched by bluebells moon by moon)
And missed the tide of Lethe; yet are soon
For that new bridge that leaves old Styx half-spanned;
Nor ever unto Mecca caravanned;
Nor bugled Asgard, skilled in magic rune;
Nor yearned for far Nirvana, the sweet swoon,
And from high Paradise are cursed and banned;

-Let's die home, ferry across the Channel! Thus
Shall we live gods there. Death shall be no sev'rance.
Weary cathedrals light new shrines for us.
To us, rough knees of boys shall ache with rev'rence.
Are not girls' ******* a clear, strong Acropole?
-There our oun mothers' tears shall heal us whole
(C) Wilfred Owen
Hermes Varini Jan 2021
A Lone Walker nowe Ah!
Intae Theis Murky Naycht
‘Yont Whin-Rock menacin’,
Ewry Wound bygane an’ the Scar
Freish Bluid o’ mine fuelin’,
Lang, lang, IT! the Blacklyn Howr,
Unfathomable, Unearthly,
Verra Guid Fyre wearin’,
Burnan Hye! Gore o’ mine
Awa, awa, IT owre spilled!
Soil o’ Alabaster gravin’,
An’ abön, Great Orrah! a Presence yirr,
Near-hand ay flashin’,
Rumblin’, guid tremblin’,
Lyke a Rhodium-Demon Hyear
Unco! stick-an-stowe towerin’,
An’ a Mirror-Vision ay broo!
O’ Red Gore fuil an’ pruid!
Great Rowth ragin’!
Human nae, nae IT laanger!
Heyne intae Theis Skye-Mirror,
Image o’ mine! nae, nae IT laanger!
Ma Rubye Brooch Micht, och!
Stylle haiwin',
An' wae Veins o’ Deep Lowe imbued,
Ma ain stylle! Glamis’ Orrah! Dearest!
Athwart ma Solitarye Gait
Ays a Storm-Blast fallin’,
An’ wnto me! wnto me noo, IT!
O’er an’ o’er! Carham’s Scyld-Hel Orrah!
Stylle Theis Dangerus! Verra Dangerus, IT!
Highlan’ Thwndir-Rode o’ mine
Intae Theis Guid Kintra whooshin’,
An’ the nae ****** Cauld Landis Micht,
Swaird-Wounded, stylle Ironclad Ah!
Fore’er unco! wi’in Oun Hye Fyre
Thro’ nae croud strollin’,
Ays yf frae Hye Þunor His-sel
The Lone War-Whisper Weel-Gaun!
Wae Thae Verra Woirds o’ Battle-Angyr
Lewdlie! Theis Specular Bluish Fyre o’ mine!
Thus Thwndir-Taukin’:

NUNC IN HOC SIGNO VINCES
QUIA FOCUS TEMPESTATIS MODO EST TIBI
ET VEXILLA FULMINIS PRODEUNT UNIVERSI
IN FERRO CAERULEO SANGUINEQUE
AD TE PICTORUM NOCTE TETRA
ET IN SPECULO RESULTANTE FORMA
THOR GOTHORUM UBI DESCENDET LAETO
AB ULTIMA GLITNIR MAGNO MALLEO
DEUS FLAVUS QUI ALTO FERRO SECURIQUE
TONITRUO INDIGNAM VIAM MALEDIXIT
FULMINIS IGITUR TETRA UMBRA TUA
ALTA FLAMMA CALIGINEA VEXILLAQUE
SUPREMO IGNE OVERMAN ULTOR.
A composition of mine containing an Enigma, in archaic Scottish, as ending in Classical Latin. The empowered Other-Self of the narrator, the Overman himself, at length appears, and finally speaks as a Mirror-Vision. "VEXILLA FULMINIS PRODEUNT UNIVERSI" means thus "the Banners of the Cosmic Lightning issue forth" and "PICTORUM NOCTE TETRA" "into the Murky Night of the Picts", whereas "ALTA FLAMMA" "through the High Flame" (as thus both instrumental ablatives). "THOR GOTHORUM UBI DESCENDET LAETO AB ULTIMA GLITNIR MAGNO MALLEO DEUS FLAVUS QUI ALTO FERRO SECURIQUE TONITRUO INDIGNAM VIAM MALEDIXIT" reads "where Thor of (from) the Goths, joyful descends, from Last Glitnir (Norse sacred location) with his Mighty Hammer, the Fair God who with the High Iron and the Axe, through the Thunder the Unworthy Path cursed". Touching otherwise "IN SPECULO RESULTANTE FORMA", "FORMA" ("form") is looked upon in sheer Aristotelian terms, as thus opposed to matter. It is indicated that the narrator cannot die, for he possesses veins imbued with incorruptible Heraclitean Fire, hence his Night Stroll, in a manner akin to "The Man of the Crowd", is everlasting. "Thae", "Theis" and "Thus" form an alliteration.
Monika Oct 2015
Please*              Open and see

                                       Sweet            ­Dreams
                                   No! Don´t worry, gone will
                                 be the ni gh tmare s.. . when you
                                 turn  ar oun d, an oth er dream
                                    will imme dia tely come...
                                       I have an eye on you
                                            all night long.
                                   From my seat, you can´t
                               really hear  me.  I´m sure you  
                         you won´t. But you should seriously
            know that I´m always here. Noth ing will happen
           to you ... I´m yo ur guardian ... bu t not an ordinary
             one. I´m the                                    sweet little...
                 Teddy                                                  **Bear­
Sweet Jesus! You can´t even imagine how much work did this need... I´m tired! But it was worth it :)
Julie Butler Nov 2015
counting you down -
you are my
noun
& I'd rather be
honest with you
than to be
loud
let us be
calm
  let me
renounce
I took you home with me
into my house
I am still
in love with you
inside my mouth
& you should still
belong with me
ignoring miles
>|< Julie Butler

— The End —