A Retrospective Anthology of Poetry, Articles and Essays
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INDUSTRY SPECIFIC CONTENT
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Amid the misery of human exchange stands the white hope of reason
The heroes of history’s collusion are not only those who endure but those who care
I paint letters 3 foot high on the wall where terror hides for the gentle mind
Of certain clean hands, compassion, tear-stained, steel-capped and blooded-granite
Diamond flies the space fleet of a babbling brook or a red stained, trickling stream
This flows from the heart of human endurance and desire – almost sensual
Such open-hearted passion that buries your own dead tho’ not time enough to lament
Curse the chatter of bare-faced monkeys and the smiling grey-green lizard for their deceit
Yet curse the more the mighty men who contribute their marvellous reason
We who stand on your grave to make sure you never r0se nor ever metamorphose
Nor yet your skeleton and scattered disciples perpetuate your particular reincarnation
Legions of shame-filled neutrons whose cancerous cells reek with morbid attenuation
Where women’s grace should turn an altered gaze, the milk-paps talk of their creation
Not squander or lust with incest, disgrace and callous loathing, what they alone can hunt
It was at this point in the narrative I even thought I heard angel voices and wondered
Should we throw ourselves on the ground Michael or simply appreciate this mind racing
The track before me concealed, I saw not a chicane where two religions meet and a voice
Speaking behind me gladly saying there are but two ways you may travel, one is long and rugged
The other way mountainous with much to overcome and avocado turtles who sleep
They have been here since almost the world begat them and we who fret and libate
Would do a wholesome better to honour those than many a human deity that charm
With dishonest priests and costumes dressed in black, orange, blood and white
Palodium the Pantomime horse approaches, two honest scarecrows dancing in the wind
I caught the flare of your up-turned dress, I saw your legs and your wonderful smile
We have more to us than this basket of ripe plums, strawberries, blueberries
Moments alone, when we may undress and rebuild our lives as people
We have seen an orange sun, heard a donkey bray and sat watching and listening
A circle of Vaux’s swifts are cavorting, planing over that same grass where war bodies lay
writtenbyedenbray24.04.2013
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#Authors Note ~ Let me be clear on two things before I complete tonights personal review of yet another “handwritten” and entirely original Edenbray piece of prose for this 2nd Retrospective Anthology – EDENBRAY in EXILE
a) That this piece was not written originally out of any response to or with any connection with coronavirus – lest anyone should think me insensitive to those who have lost loved ones, friends or family during this epidemic. Any link in word, sense or feeling to the virus is purely coincidental, however fitting the words may seem to be and on that even I must agree some lines do ‘fit’ uncannily well!.
b) 2ndly – Although originally unplanned, these daily trysts, reviews, explanations – call them what you will – have become to me almost essentially a living part of my daily routine while in isolation over these past 3 weeks, almost like the Daily Press Updates on the Pandemic from Downing Street or those carried out by Governor Andrew Cuomo in New York. These virtually daily reviews have given me a unique and personal opportunity to comment and ‘leave a word’ in a Poetic Journal Resource that I hope might retain its merit for some while after coronavirus – Covid-19 – has become a historical statistic and not a current & very present terror.
Review: Allegedly, Bob Dylan’s composition ~ A Hard Rains Gonna Fall was a list of 1st line ideas for songs he had scribbled in a notebook and that he eventually sewed together in verses for that haunting and rambling warning of what a post-nuclear world might be like. Dylan himself refutes both ideas but then the enigma that is Dylan – still the finest troubadour-poet of the 20th century probably would, wouldn’t he true to form and that may I say would be his inalienable right so to do.
I, on the other hand would love to claim a similar background for this piece ~ Industry Specific Content but truthfully I’m not sure I can but as most of it does seem to exist in one line verses, possibly I did. I absolutely love the power of headliner statements and their ability to focus the mind – so, hey that might explain it!
Today, I feel I have already said quite enough and personally any comment, literary dissection, analysis or criticism would only pall and possibly dilute the impact of some of the really powerful and well-crafted lines in the text of this poem – They represent some of the best work I have done. So, I will let Industry Specific Content speak in its own, may I say unique way and once again let you the reader be the judge and the jury. Please leave a comment or a like to tell me that you called by today – thanks! ~ edenbraytoday
I am a writer ... a beat poet who began writing poetry way back in 1966 ... 'edenbray is born ugly, wet, covered in blood, mucous & bodily functions, the effluence of my short life' ... I recently published my 1st solo Anthology - the best of 60 years writing - previously I ran my own Art Supplies Store for 40 yrs before I became a full-time writer I am a Blogger who has posted 1,000 poems - available in 24 themed booklets ... please ask for details + leave a 'like' or a comment for my encouragement, thank you so much for listening - I truly value your opinion on my work ~ in fact I literally survive on your creative input ~ edenbray
edenbray ☢︎ - a BEAT POET 