‘Edenbray in Exile’ OUTTAKE
… … …
SELfIE
… … …
Entangled, overwhelmed, a picture in mezzotint
Dove grey – bordered in the usual way
Of men and women and games they play
Of piano-moods or senseless abandon
Where the wicked transgress and say it is not so
^ ^ ^
The leaf-lawn green and sweet, a mothers smile
We don’t only talk in words, language, gestures,
Mock perception or a hand to trace your face
The given moment sentient in the mind’s eye
Not deep or dark but tangled like wool
^ ^ ^
And in one moment, mounted on horses
Dressed in flesh, a mountain above easy feeling
We shake ofF the intrigue, guile and terror
And hold each other closer than our mother
Bite, scratch and scrawl passions sanction
^ ^ ^
If lonely guilt were left in the darkest room
And the strangers we become, last years Kodachrome
Lying in a box, a cell of transparency
Every word full, close-ups, vivid pictures
And our honest selves introduced as friends.
^ ^ ^
… … …
edenbray ☢︎ - a BEAT POET 