because Picasso could draw .. .
..
the battle scene lay behind us
the colour of his blue
the landscape of the Guernica
where our senses are distilled
I take to analysing
the dismembering of torsos
with subtle forms of beauty
lithe lines of muscle, angled shades
don’t bury me on my own
bury me in this mass grave
with others who have died
alongside the bony lonely
we will wrap our arms
around each other
appreciate our common stench
grasp tightly with mortis clench
..
bury me in a grave with women
beautiful women who have died
they are not forgotten
I’ll lie forever with Monroe, Garbo
not on my own, not left alone
when I rise I will cling
forever to their ashes
wearing naught but heaven’s sashes
intelligent women when they are dead
Marie Curie, Mary Astell
Maya Angelou, Daisy Bates
Malala Yousafzai, Ban Zhia and Myia
caring women i will lie with
in the cleft of bosom
with my mother, my only wife
I’ll not leave them lonely or assaulted
by ravages of corruption
our bony fingers reaching out
to caress and comfort the lasting night
o’ poignant, happy sight
..
then bury me with men who wrote with pen
held within their rigid digits
Whitman, King David, Rachmaninov and Tolstoy
Aristotle, Gaius, Tennyson and Proust
where is the music for the dead poet
and their deft society
who congregate to pontificate
sing boldly in the afterlife of their choosing
I’ll listen with a rotting cartilage of ears
spirit running down my clotted vertebrae
which have lost their cushions and their ease
boned legs, knobbled knees
laid out within the sands of time
next to bloody evil’s grime
lay me next to sweet young things
those mourned by loving parents
who privileged to watch them live
but also die of ailment, of disease
of sadism and of torture
Auschwitz – alway bring me to my knees
in reverence, respect and disorder
I will lie with my arms
hung out above them as wings
to their mercy and their love
..
I’ll lie down with artists
who smote canvas for a living
watch the earth spring forth in paint
of anger, blood, filbert hair and feeling
flashes of the mind caught in mud
chiselled out of crumpled rock
these are Picasso, Vermeer, Rodin
drawing their deaths in sepia tone
Macbeth, Hamlet, Annapurna
Picasso, a scientific butcher
without thread or needle
sewing skeletons together in different order
played with wooden cubes
and the lives of marionettes
hanging in their chambers
Braque, Metzinger, Gleizes, Juan Gris
juvenile of true Picasso anger
waiting to be devoured
to be consumed and exhumed
by nations of our future
learn well Pablo’s secrets
techniques of indivisible suture
a new jealousy, a new art and culture
Picasso born of different mind
intensity, colour and temper
walked a cat-gut rope
who was a cellist fiddling
an old man playing at a violin
‘a weeping woman’
he could draw long before he saw
..
WRITTEN 05.06.2021 EDIT 21.04.2023
edenbray ☢︎ - a BEAT POET 
AURORA-METEOR FLASH LIGHTS UP MY SKY .. .
Aurora Meteor Flash Lights Up My Sky .. .
.. .
…. when late skies of the aurora part
there is no feeling in my hands
no senses running through me
death is a dim cloud descending
like cold water trickles down from the mountains
from the mountains of Araz-kana
where there also are wild ponies, goats
serpents under rocks and smallish, brown birds
that climb the rocks and trees their beaks are curved
jammed full of insects, ants and splendid nectar
these are the high plains of our civilisation
where the induits once roamed
on stellar journeys clothed in animal fur
soft, rancid skins cut from seals
that in the morning make you retch
I too am a sharman
not to touch the earth or its trees
not to see the sun or categorise
the energy of this constant storm that rages
within the intelligence of all peoples
we are born waiting the solitary night
wailing at the morbid separation
from our mothers skin, her open pudenda
thrust into a dream we cannot divine
we embark upon a journey with no end
each one of us is a nimbus, a Columbus
a Ghengis, a warrior as a snow leopard
focussed on her awesome kill
under the star-filled night with dancing lights
my wild love goes ridin’ she rides all the day
©edenbraytoday09.03.2023
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