there
is always
a return journey
to find a souls reason
a
masked voyage
Not lightly undertaken
to the acolytes primeval garden
i
lived on
the Viles bank
at its deformed toothless mouth
in
the City
of the Kingdom
deep in the icy south
allow
a novice
to intrepid traveling
i would seek redemption alone
following
the river
north to the
Roads mapped by the unbeknown
i
set out
from the City
that had exhausted my existence
to
find the
Fabled primeval garden
Hidden in the fabricated distance
leaving
via the
slum overcrowded quarters
forgotten wrought pearl City gates
i
did encounter
a pious boy
begging relentlessly gospel updates
he
sat on
top of a
lightning thrice struck sign post
that
points you
away from the
protection of the Cities host
he
asked me
politely if I
found what i searched for
my
eyes returned
to the carnivorous
City i’d grown to abhor
There
i’d lodged
many ridiculous years
courting the Cities high acclaim
while
dreaming drunk
in a swaggering strungout hammock
For
My fortune
and deluded fame
Cocooned within the prophets washedout
colorful
Canvass sails
Made by street
Artists who captured life escapes
Instead
my stupor
Had entangled me
in the goddess’ temples fire
blue
Vision erotic
dancing silk drapes
Wicks to my candle heart
I
woke with
burning fever to
Find where the divine once
dwelled
was now
overrun with money
lenders and Merchants trying to
flog
of their
smog soaked blanket
currency to the throne pretender
i
sorrowfully shook
my crowned head
throwing the boy my last
coin
of a
fool’s gold that
contained false promises full of
poisonous
alms for
nourishment’s untold by
The crone’s that once camped
On
The rocks
they used to
build the Kingdoms crumbling City
he
caught the
coin and then
tossed it into the Vile
looking
at me
Aghast with pity
He’d gift to a leper
he
said “no
good sir i
beg for happiness
not gold to braid my
hanging
rope” now
i knew
why he looked
so emaciated holding his rusty
tin
bowl barren
of loose hope
That rattles with unseen pain
i
followed a
path that swung
left into the shrouded mountains
which
in my
youth had been
guarded by the demented monks
of
conformity who
believed that all
creatures had been recreated so
all
had to
pay a toll
to pass through
the flaming dragon wing gates
To
tread the
righteous road by
being dunked head first into
their
well of
blood just-ice water
to reload upon their spine
an
ingrowing hair
of camel from
each beings past spent lives
to
carry the
ingrown poison of
their progenitors into their new
Pure
sweet opium
golden hives abuzz
with bugbear stinging grievances
this
day the
way point seemed
deserted of the impregnators of
hates
as i
walked through the
pillars unheeded by the once
guarded
Dragon wing
gates that now
lay on the ground extinguished
a
naked woman
to my surprise
with a swollen belly hooping
three
golden rings
danced stirringly erotically
towards me exhorting me to
obediently
follow my
Beating heart within
Her womb of rising thought
i
took her
ribbon and she
led me up a ladder
to
where the
air did not
freely stir a beings will
Atop
the iced
wall monastery where
the monks had generously dwelled
inside
excreting sin
From the fruit
fermenting in their ink Wells
there
outside of
the walls she
wailed to me the song
regarding
the deceiver
who dwelled within
song given she lay motionless
like
a raped
snow angel image
just left carved
by the purple incubus’ weighty
sickle
i took
the songs muse
placing it within a hod
then
i hid the
parasite in a blacksmiths forge
just
after Passingover
Red Rover town that i
crossed
Via a
bridge made of
Sacrificed stone encrusted with frost
to
gain the
other side of
the muddy towns main artery
Known
By the
Inhabitants as the
Undrinkable non cleansing River Vile
A
Mile later
Into the day
i encountered a scarred and
Battered
tin skeleton
digging with his
saber in a salted field.
looking
he said
for his lost
Canvas skin to be revealed.
further
on down
the stained buckled
cobbled together redemption potted road
in
a field
of corn been
harvested before the rain fell
i
came across
a scarecrow made
from a soldiers cadaver pouch
pulling
out the
corn by years
searching for he did say
his
inner skeleton
Made of recycled tin soldiers
i
pointed to
the silhouette digging
in the neighboring salted field
the
scarecrow just
laughed till his
guano congealed tears fell loose
he
picked up
a dead crow
casting it at his neighbor
who
on been
struck dropped his
soiled blunted rust infected saber
then
he fell
forward casting his
Naked shadow across his foe
As
a whip
Lashing scarecrows weathered
back with the gods Greek fire.
the
scarecrow cried
out in frigid
pain through his stoic mask.
Till
Time forced
His weathered hands
back to his fruitless task
i
collected my
knapsack bent back
then whistling tunelessly ahead
so
my feet
would obediently follow
i wondered humorously alone again
down
through a
barren haunted hollow
shadowed by lone rain dogs
that
wander searching
the wilderness aimlessly
for their lost wolf’s scent
that
over generations
has become infertile
Leaving them lost without MANA
I
Walked on
until the road
again ran along the vile
Here
I stopped
At an outpost
of civilisation for needed rest
here
i entered
A rustic tavern
Flapping sign said Opera Mill
Deep
inside a
Fire did blaze
alive with a sorcerer’s song
trapped
in the
Mills hearth cage
his fingers scrawling black hieroglyphs
notes
from a
composed archaic age
onto the scorched planets orbiting
the
Luna howling
phantom singing sage
who reached out through
the
hearths steel
grates trying to
lull me into his nocturnal
underworld
vast estates
Hypnotised within the
fires fever I Became consumed
Within
a game
Searching for the
music’s eternal glass flute flame
i
was carried
from the millers
opera house by the organs
Defiant
Breath of
soul music as
it did flee the sages
crackling
fingers that
reached out of
the house from its angry
inflamed
heart to
envelop the exoskeleton
crushing the imprisoning walls holding
His
Wraith Puppet
Of revenge birthed
To terrorise the Kingdoms land
above
Mad moons
circled like vultures
stretching and tearing red giblets
from
the wraith
as if it
were a corpse
on which gravity’s
darker side could feast upon
scrambling
to my
feet i followed
the fleeing ashen beating music
my
Back knapsack
weighing burdens
as i tried to out
distance
the sound
of a morphism
Form been ritually torn apart
after
many strides
taken i found
myself standing on the Brink
below
a sea
of sick green
drank the river Vile’s water
that
Vomited from
The land into
the green seas churning maw
from
behind a
question as if
answered floated down the vile
annoying
my ears
like a mocking birds caw
i
turned in
anger to see
a bobbing v-bowed raft with
a
sign post
for a mast
heading towards the water fall
its
Grinning captain
the pious boy
from the Kingdoms city gates
begging
Weather updates
While looking foolishly
directly into the storm’s eye
i
ran leaping
from the Brink
To land on the raft
as
the boy
hoisted the sail
made from street artist canvas
colorfully
created on
the sewer paved
streets where dreams do prevail
i
filled that
sail out like
A strong gale force wind
causing
the raft
to shoot over
the river vile’s vomiting fall
into
the distant
settling pale brine
That reflected the clouds above
when
i’d finally
untangled myself from
the canvass sail and rigging
The
Waifs ark
was all mine
The pious lost at sea
i
knelt naked
before the mast
the waves flaying my back
eroding
the Kingdoms
Waste and Clay gift away
i
wiped the
salty brine from
my beard covered chapped lips
with
the hairy
Back of an
Omnipresent Offending hand of MIME
the
canvas hung
limp like an
empty wine skin
savior from the main mast
to
whom i
spoke blasphemous blessings
of gibberish fasting prayers in
the
High hope
the canvas might
keep the dragons at bay
that
Had risen
From the drowned
primeval gardens arks sunken graveyard
To
Swim through
the restless sea
As dark clouds hunting prey
i
crossed the
flooded primeval garden
where bleeding mountains lay drowning
in
eon’s of
Waste sent from
the eternal Kingdoms city sewer
till
growing out
of the straining
Rising light in the distance
a
dark smudge
became a Castaways
civilized cyst of puss weeping
rugged
walls of
the City i
had shed like a skin
the
mouth of
the river Vile
welcomed me with its wide
toothless
salivating mouth
as its prodigal
morsel returned empty to the
carnivorous
Kingdoms City
From which innocence
Consumes itself within temptations cocoon
further
On up
the river Vile
the raft came to rest
on
the Brinks
lower south bank
like a pilgrim i stepped
ashore
to feel
sins vibrations chattering
my bones with junkie delirium
wrapped
in my
canvas sail skin
i walked my path carrying
on
my shoulder
the lightning thrice
struck sign post I was fated
to
return to
the right side
of the misleading
cobbled road that led to
the
Kingdoms City
And to the
unbeknownst mapped north cobbled roads
my
Boney arms
stretched indifferently in
both directions that led nowhere
The
post became
my body’s spine
erected to scare away the
pious
boy who
would pass by
heading towards the
Kingdoms slum city pearly gates
Open
For business
to all infections
© bg 2012
I really enjoyed it a lot! nice words & beautifully done. keep it up bg!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I had fun writing a return journey so it’s great to get feedback that you enjoyed reading it. Thank you kindly 😊
LikeLiked by 1 person
my pleasure 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
😆
LikeLiked by 1 person
Its…not it’s….
I’ve been typing a lot this weekend…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ha, that’s OK I read it as its and didn’t know till you said, I think the brain just auto corrects. 😊
LikeLiked by 1 person
If only the novel would auto correct…
LikeLiked by 1 person
I know that feeling 😊I also wish it could read my mind 🙃
LikeLiked by 1 person
I wish I could read your mind also…(smiley face something-or-other inserted here).
LikeLiked by 1 person
It’s written in an alien language I’ve been told. Lol 🤗
LikeLiked by 1 person
bg, I have children…I speak fluent alien. Lol…
LikeLiked by 1 person
LoL, fantastic 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
bg, before THAT post goes up tomorrow…yes, THAT post written for you and from my heart…please feel no pressure to comment. Options: comment here, comment there, remain secretively silent (cue softly tense vibrations on the violin strings), use my e-mail (several people do), or write in an alien language that only we understand…Lol
I hope your busy week is leaving you time to laugh!
LikeLike
OK. Looking forward to the read. You do know in my world your late as its Thursday down under lol 🤗
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ha, I’m still awake. So here you go…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Very good, I was just pulling your leg. Thought I’d have some time zone fun 😊
LikeLiked by 1 person
Lol…Of course, I will not hold it against you as long as you promise to pull my leg in the general direction of the dance floor. Can’t wait to read your Friday lines…in any time zone.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Very good 😊
LikeLiked by 1 person
You caught me mid-reply to another blogging friend before I went to bed…but the post is up now. Cheers, my friend!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Cool. 🙃
LikeLiked by 1 person
I am retiring to my down pillow now, however. But you cannot accuse me of being late…in dance, I keep beautiful time…
LikeLiked by 1 person
You do keep beautiful time. Sweet waltzing dreams 😊
LikeLiked by 1 person
My nine-year-old son would agree with you. Several weeks ago, we attended a wedding; and he and I kicked it up on the dance floor for hours. We had so much fun, my little man and I!
LikeLiked by 1 person
That would of been fun, nothing worst than a sit down wedding. 😊
LikeLiked by 1 person
As promised, a part of THAT novel, how Autumn found Winter, goes live on my blog on Thursday just for you. It’s alternative title, she who survived the Fall, I am only sharing that here. It is a part of THAT novel, after all.
Monday’s post about Amos is related by easily connectable dots, if you have time to glance at that too.
If Thursdays are mine, than Fridays are yours. I can’t wait to hear the next tune you devise for us…my dancing feet are impatiently tapping.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Cool. Allow at the moment I have yet to pick a tune. 😊
LikeLiked by 1 person
I am a very patient dance partner…
LikeLiked by 1 person
That’s good to hear. It’s likely gonna a be a quick snappy piece, time appears against me this week 😊
LikeLiked by 1 person
Quick and snappy sounds fun! It will line up perfectly with the beat of my impatiently tapping foot…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Excellent 😆
LikeLiked by 1 person
the title of this blog is too deep for me to grasp
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hi, Thank you for your feed back 😊
LikeLiked by 1 person
I related to the skeleton in your poetry. Amazing read. Epic poem.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Glad you enjoyed and thanks for letting me know the character you related to. Always interested in what character strikes a chord 😊
LikeLike
my
Boney arms
stretched indifferently in
both directions that led nowhere
The
post became
my body’s spine
erected to scare away the
pious
boy who
would pass by
heading towards the
Kingdoms slum city pearly gates
Open
For business
to all infections
This stood out to me profoundly. As a prodigal returned in this life I bear the burden of a cautionary tale – like the spine erected to scare away the pious boy. Been there, done that. Would you like to read THAT novel? lol
But (and this will give you a clue where I will dance with this piece), my old man is dead (well, I mean, mine definitely is NOT a man, but you get the picture). Let him hang there. My new man (of the female variety, lol) is now free to run and dance and play.
So, let the world mock the old bones. I care not. There is a body given to me, and I will dance!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes I would love to read that novel.
And may your dance carry you far 😊
LikeLiked by 1 person
I think I will give you a bit of that novel. It will be my Thursday post…
And this one, dear bg, is just for you.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Cool, I look forward to your Thursday’s 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
bg, on first reading, I am struck by depth and the texture of this piece. For me, that means I need to spend time unfolding it and playing with it (yes, I’m like a child and words are my toys…laugh if you want, just keep the bullies out of the playground).
Your ability to interweave so many layers of thread into a single, poetic garment is extraordinary. It’s brilliant.
So now, I am going to play with it…(I wish you had a q&a)
LikeLiked by 1 person
It’s cool, words were made to be played with.
😊.what if my answers didn’t live up to your interpretation of my words. It could ruin the poem lol 😊
LikeLiked by 1 person
It is more fun to play on the playground if you have someone to play with…lol
I have one more response mid-way typed about something that grabbed my heart with this piece. Wait for it…
LikeLiked by 1 person
OK. Waiting…. Foot tapping impatiently lol 😃
LikeLiked by 1 person
Careful…that might lead to a dance…(almost done)
LikeLiked by 1 person
😊well while we dance you could always ask a question ……
LikeLiked by 1 person
I thought I was going to be busy watching out for your two left feet?
LikeLiked by 1 person
True,lol as I will use my feet as a diversion if I stumble over your question 😊
LikeLiked by 1 person
Some dances are worth the risk of a bruised toe or two…
Have a really lovely weekend, bg!
LikeLiked by 1 person
You as well Tanya 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
wow, this is something! you have an interesting voice that’s very fun to read, thanks for sharing 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hi. I’m happy you found my writing fun to read ,thank you for your feedback 😊
LikeLike