Under Wordsworth’s rapturous gaze
lost in a lyrical haze
streams of sublime visitations,
whispers of lakes, caves, valleys, skies,
all captured in clearest cadence
he also tells of a childhood dread
when at night this beauty turned to horror
as twisted mighty forms writhed, eluding words
Up the rocky path at Greenhead Ghyll
he told the story of Michael,
who waits silently for his son to come home
at times he wrote with a quill
and soon his dancing words
began to soar…
he wandered, wondered,
at the cloudy mirage in the mere,
His boat lolling gently by lakeside
a few more photos…
into electric blue sky
Through childish eyes come sirrus skies,
Mere projections which jeopardise,
To break the ties, anaesthetise,
The world from its beholder.
Where day and night capsize forever,
And looming shadows so endeavour,
To blot all pigment, pluck hue from feather,
Under the uniform gaslight haze.
And breaths collide beneath coarse fabric,
Caressing, guessing; motions tantric.
The need for flesh becoming frantic,
For love to be unmasked.
And in the footsteps of Socrates,
Forestall cave wall hypocrises,
Gaze upon these alpine mockeries,
The truth is on the canvas.
Through tempest glides the gentle dove,
As all who waver watch above,
Its azure plumage doused with love,
For a moment free again.
Curator of cascading cavalcades and causeways of carnality,
Virtuoso of vivisection, mosaics of calamity,
In whose worlds a prosaic insanity festers midst cortex;
Synergies of synapse and syntax, an existential vortex.
Through a geometric rhetoric of plaza and high rise,
Come parables comparable to Freudian mythologies.
Where avian conclaves of Loplopian apostles soar,
As the corpses of collossi are numbly washed ashore.
Marooned tycoons wander in some highway purgatory,
Metro meets Mecca: all hail the gods of multi-storey.
A Triassic redux as concrete jungles plunge neath tide,
From Shanghai to Shepperton he pedalled, forever wide-eyed…
Campus skies ablaze,
Neon plumes draw bookworm gaze,
Work turns to wonder…
Latent gospel plucked from slumber
Writhing as seething logic tears asunder
These retinal confessionals which drawn
From the tattered slacks of droning hacks whose dawn
Is borne from fleeting mania amongst ceaseless cognitive curfews
Where spontaneous poetic passions percolate like zeppelins doing corkscrews
Where cubist contortions reign and the blighted blatherings of historians
Wither into stony columns of drivel and whitespace – trivial emporiums
Which shy away from the kaleidoscopic sensorium of surreality
An exclusive realm of poets and purveyors of psyche, far beyond mere animality
NB: featured image is Max Ernst’s ‘triumph of surrealism’ (1937)