‘I Tried to Talk to the Angels’ and Other Poems



I Tried to Talk to the Angels

I tried talking to the Angels but I think their line had a block
So I took it one step further and had a word with God,
There I was last night, talking to The Creator
At about half twelve, maybe a bit later
I asked him to tell me everything I needed to know
All about the black birds and white snow
Why the people are still starving and why You created wars
Why I’m struggling to make a living within laws
She smiled at me, white teeth on ebony lips
« You think freedom in a concept when you find it between your hips?
You’ve forged your own chains, melted the steel,
Cauterized your burns, watched the skin peel.
All you had to do was reshape human concept
Not call it an ideal. Call it an idea that you can get. »
I was confused and asked it, if the name God is to be applied
« Why have we had to listen when men lied? »
Those Oriental deep set watching eyes echoed resolve
« Because you sit back and let the Earth revolve. »
I awoke, six pillars had crumbled during my slumber,
And I heard laughter in the Thunder.

I Am the Shadow in the Sun

I am the shadow in the Sun.
Green skies whisper of maelstroms,
Unseasonable seasons we are having.
The kid is angry, flying within the seas,
Brush of winter’s residue.
Spring stands between the wolf and dog,
Another Day

Demain Je Descends du Dernier Train de la Rhodésie

Demain je descends du dernier train de la Rhodésie.
Les étoiles filantes ne connaissent pas leur chemin,
Pendant que les miroirs m’interrogent je souris,
Socrate était son propre anti douleur.
Quand je descends du train je la trouveras
Mais pour le moment je suis perdu dans l’instant.
Omniprésent dans son absence elle est son propre butin,
Donc regarde le ciel et admire les couleurs.
L’immortel et l’éternel se sépare. L’immortel et l’éternel se sépare au fil du temps.
Apollon et la nuit se mêle dans ses mots et mon temps.
Arrivé entre les gares, je descends aveuglement.

Tomorrow I will get off the last train from Rhodesia.
Shooting stars do not know their path,
Whilst the mirrors question me, I smile.
Socrates was his own pain killer.
When I leave the train I shall find her.
But for this moment, I am lost in the moment.
Omnipresent in her absence she is her own reward.
So watch the skies and admire their colours.
The Immortal and the Eternal separate. The Immortal and the Eternal separate over time.
Apollo and the night merge in their words and my Time.
Arrived at the station, I blindly descend.

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