The Clink Of Keys In The Dreaming Echo Where Oceans Bare Not – A Poem by Richard William Kirkpatrick-Thorne
Barbed And Killing Its Mystery,
Dragging A Hump Dry Across The Aisle Between Pews,
Then To Creep With The Setting Shift Of Fadeing Day
Up ALong The Tapestry And Its Symbiotic Knottings,
Prying With Relentless Edge To Slide Wet And Peeling Under Its
Borrowed-True Walls,
Whispering With A Throbbing Null… Worming Its Way To The Pinnacled
Arch,
InTo The Golden Touches Of Nuance Amongst The Mistletoe And Apertured
Revulsion,
As Cups With Their Swords Collect For Hollow Tooth And Claw,
To Strip The Dancers Below Of Their Spirited Fetish…
…
…
Then With Threads To Descend Wordlessly InTo Hysteria,
UnLocking Each Hand Of Its Life… To The Lines… For Geists As
Gists…
…
…
A Cemetery For Elementary Bearers Under Universeal Laws,
When It Be Fit To Sleep Under The Assureing Heft Of A Slitting Fold
Down-Adorned InTo Comfort And Its Symbolic Clotheings,
Spying With Eye Pressed To Chaliced Raise To Set When Splitting APart
As Will Arrowed-Through,
Dulling The Thistle Of Its Bobbing Fill… Emergeing As Knighted To
The Collapsed March,
Exiting With A Cacophonous Stumble InTo The Face-Grease And Staggered
Impulse,
As Armed, Lipped, And Worded-Direct For Shallow Grave And Stone,
To Strap The Singers Above To Their Desperate Flesh.
More at http://rwkt.blogspot.ca/2014/07/the-clink-of-keys-in-dreaming-echo.html.
