..
beat march – death roll .. .

..
deep where mariah taxis tumbled
blots and scribbles
inkwell funnels
when we were primary school kids
in the yard
and the wind blew cold
forming icey puddles
steam trains, wolf whistles
where we grew up
rites of passage, oaths
nylon, foldaway macs
then we grew whiskers
girls grew moulded chests
physical education in vests
agitation wishes
adolescent issues
borstal boys they genuflect
to stay within our school
girls wore blackened stockings
we met in town
upon safe ground
our long march to Culloden
strap your dirk
children smirk betide the kirk
a generation of minds
dropped out to drop in
followed on a mission
to live a life that’s true
growing pains in the semester
afraid of what we had become
leanings that we took
the lefts and rights
issues of the time
we read between the lines
of revolution books
learned to eat the gristle
o’ this life we lead
where saints and sinners bleed
from one universal puddle
protest badges worn as medals
when summer of love departed
was no one left to join the struggle
flashbacks and mild paranoia
legacy of the chillum, the bong
Leary’s fond exegesis
we learned to sing along
till Terry Gillum
the pythoned boys
vigilantes from the spires
round and round
the punting town
minds of one sacred generation
who had learned relief
at the hands of the satirical
exhumed our rights
to earn a crust for living
yesterdays fold into todays
the dough of life still rising
were left to prove within
the technological revolution
as worlds turn
so hubris often dies
and smothers all regrets
opportunities metal
maligned was redefined
those absolutes of original intention
a voice was lost
at enormous cost
when death occurred
there was no life left at all
.
.
©edenbraytoday23.10.2023
About edenbray
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
BEAT MARCH ~ DEATH ROLL .. .
..
beat march – death roll .. .
..
deep where mariah taxis tumbled
blots and scribbles
inkwell funnels
when we were primary school kids
in the yard
and the wind blew cold
forming icey puddles
steam trains, wolf whistles
where we grew up
rites of passage, oaths
nylon, foldaway macs
then we grew whiskers
girls grew moulded chests
physical education in vests
agitation wishes
adolescent issues
borstal boys they genuflect
to stay within our school
girls wore blackened stockings
we met in town
upon safe ground
our long march to Culloden
strap your dirk
children smirk betide the kirk
a generation of minds
dropped out to drop in
followed on a mission
to live a life that’s true
growing pains in the semester
afraid of what we had become
leanings that we took
the lefts and rights
issues of the time
we read between the lines
of revolution books
learned to eat the gristle
o’ this life we lead
where saints and sinners bleed
from one universal puddle
protest badges worn as medals
when summer of love departed
was no one left to join the struggle
flashbacks and mild paranoia
legacy of the chillum, the bong
Leary’s fond exegesis
we learned to sing along
till Terry Gillum
the pythoned boys
vigilantes from the spires
round and round
the punting town
minds of one sacred generation
who had learned relief
at the hands of the satirical
exhumed our rights
to earn a crust for living
yesterdays fold into todays
the dough of life still rising
were left to prove within
the technological revolution
as worlds turn
so hubris often dies
and smothers all regrets
opportunities metal
maligned was redefined
those absolutes of original intention
a voice was lost
at enormous cost
when death occurred
there was no life left at all
.
.
©edenbraytoday23.10.2023
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About edenbray
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