PHIL LYNOTT WAS A POET
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. . .
The wide, the woven, the smell of fear
Easier to hide than make a stand
Form a band, cover yourself in glory
Write your own story, nights of fury
..
Intelligence is weary, culture vulture
Under the lights of night your face black
Your heritage an echo, a Gaelic refrain
Up on the stage of fame, spike the stain
..
Carry me home, wander free, a family
Stand out under the stars naked, your
electric harp, with the boys of harmony
Bringing it home, not when your alone
..
Pass the skit, the rush, the hit, atonement
Write it down in your mothers scrapbook
Looking for the mass ascension, Johnny boy
Collecting friends along the way, adjacent
..
Musha ring dum a do, whack for my daddy-o
The jar is left, shake the tree, where did daddy go?
Fender Jazz, Precision, give it to sad clowns of derision
Learned to star, scar the stage, no boot stud indecision
..
Fame train carries a barb, a wye switch derailer
Home mommy’s kid, not greedie tin’ bitch syringe
Leather clad, punk sad, ride the ferris wheel ..
Get off the track, gentle guitar man, Lynott you are a poet
..
edenbraytoday
30.11.2020

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TOO ENDLESSLY
TOO ENDLESSLY
Hemmingway’s Folly
. . .
The rolling river knows and to this torture shows
From virtues sodden garments strewn
The bloodless captives body hewn
..
O endless river follow long, a plaintiff song
Where dreams will last forever
Our deepest friendships we sever
..
We cannot chide the moon its life is longer
Loves bite is stronger than the
Sentiment of shadows, wayward arrows
..
When we write our story down in verse
We suckle at life’s wet nurse
Who forces her to yield?
..
What bastard drone betide may step aside
Abandon loves purest reason
To fulfil the rutting stag in season
..
And nature charming like a sceptarian
Seven hands for seven throats
Seven lives, seven moats
..
And in this spun tale of summer gold,
I see within her folds, lust has wed
The serpents head, so angry and so red
..
The deed was done, of sumnal scum
O great Rome, she still speaks to the soul of man
Offers prayers to Zeus and gods of Roman story
..
O harlot tramp the hoary, not centre of our story
Some saints are set for glory
Shield me O’ phantom roaring
..
And in all this turgid mire she capitulates
Loves lovers lost beneath her virgin state
Loves moment born to virtue sworn
..
The specious dawn of fair Capricorn
O laugh to scorn the sanscript of her love forlorn
The lover bared capitulates to sporn
..
O holy fire that burns the chaff of lust in satan’s pire
The wire of restraint within a maidens fire
For they burn inside the hole of hell
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And Saint Adronedes astride the golden shire
Steps forth to shout at Surgun’s sun
Her fervour to espunge
..
Ho, regulateur the northern sun as cold as fire
Extends her holy, male-born spire
This Captain’s heart of swollen desire
..
In Capita’ de Espana a Bull’s testiculos
to determine the diminutive
The collective compulsive
..
We stop to observe the wonder of her gaze
The memory of Hemmingway’s ways
Too endlessly they disappear
..
edenbraytoday
30.11.2020
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