Author: wordsforghosts

The City #2

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The City street-lamps conspire to hide,
the cold shimmer of star-light from our eyes,

the stars walk beneath but cannot see,
thinking only of what will never be.

The City is teeming with ice-
cream peddlers, vintage shops &
        chain stores;
           
                    the City
pours water warm as blood upon us
        & we just shrug;

the City
        defies Gaia
& we ignore her protestation.

The City is killing us

& we allow it to happen.

I want to burn it down to the fucking ground.

So much more…

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Such repeated Pyrrhic victories it took
for you to see

that the one you used to love, the words
you once could trust,

are gone:
 
           now there’s no one.

But
by some undeserved serendipity
a new dream emerges.

& though we’re only two mammals
who desire the warmth of the other,

we’re also so much more.

The City #1

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Lost in the pressure of the Simulacra,
the strange among strangers
faces
of new buildings
                seeming
threatening,

weird & eerie.

Yet all the rest – or so
                        it seems –
of the animals in the City
are so at ease,
               but to me
the noise,
the fumes & traffic, tragic
neglected people forced to sleep
on the streets – “Sorry,
don’t have any change” –
& the oppressive cranes
declaring the domination
                                of Capital;

the hive-mind
blind to the mantic fury of
                            the lost
history buried beneath the streets
consume me.

The City disgusts me.

All Gods Die a Quiet Death

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All Gods die a quiet death.

Only silence survives when nothing is left.

In the struggle of existence,
even the winners have to lose.

The odds are always against us,
no matter which side of the line we choose.

Martyrs mistake dreams for pretence,
but nothing exists that makes any sense:

Just pretty pictures to paint over & protect.