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natures seventh seal

Saturday 10th July 2010 12:08 am (first posted Friday 9th July 2010 11:50 pm)

So you think your bolts and locks will keep me out
I can crush you anytime I like
But I prefer a lingering reclamation
It is my gentle way
My gentle nature
You shall build from the resources I have lay down
Use and abuse, on and on
So many million years ago
With Your silica and sand
I own
Your plasters and guilded thrones
No one is immune
-I own you all
And this room to which you recluse
You can close the liquid window
And blank me out
But my triffid tentacles shall pierce
My roots shall crack the ferrous veins of you concrete
Rusting now ever so slow
See how the colour streaks on the bland
The grand grey of your skelmersdale concourse
Or your Victorian asylums, closed
I’m breaking in now its time
Your rotted clothes are draped on bone
The structure of a man
Withered, a mere monument in his corner
Dead -and the rest of him dying
I inject the colour green
And you think I’m prying, I’m not
I’m taking back what’s mine
And what I find in the form of rot
Digest
Pestle the pest of man
Until he’s powder
Remove all his cities
Let the earth uncloud her from this
Look at these roots splitting hairs
Look at the walls just crack apart
Look at the pavement art of me
I’m amazing
I am powerful
I am entertaining
A muzzle of sun
crazy paving overrun with me
I am tentacle slow
I am sloth
Along the brick I go
You will never keep me out or quell this wroth

This illness is tattered cloth
Between your ears
In all canals

-Ill have you all

Your silver spoon tarnishes
I am nature
Broken nail
Varnishes
Blister
Remover
This room, this mist there, its ghost gone history
This dust chair
This cold stare through skull eyes
These rooms of bones
No roof now
Open homes
All slate now
All moss
All going now
All summer
All frost
Another crack I produce
I’m never old
Or long in tooth

Only you, young man

You will realise that even you can die
And in every fortress
I can always pry
In my minuscule matters of time
I’m looking for you
Crossed legged and patient
I polish these silver bullets
And you rack the Russian roulette
Hoping I’ll forget you
Like death on the shore should loose a step
And fall a seventh seal
But never me, even the devil I own.

abstract surreal

◄ the speed of life

The Stone I Own ►

Comments

Ann Foxglove

Sat 10th Jul 2010 20:11

Just a quick thing - I really like the first "bit" best, maybe it could be a separate poem ending on "I'll have you all." P.S. If that's your room you have a serious damp problem!

Pete Crompton

Sat 10th Jul 2010 18:09

The poem refers to the concourse as 'the grand grey' which is how I see it. It is part of the brutalist era and iconic. I dont see it or mean the poem to reflect it in a derogatory sense and its not implied in the poem at all. Its ironic as the particular type of concrete used was reinforced, using steel galv rods and the pours where carefully monitored. Im not sure wether it actually suffered fatique at all, I know that the police station did and several multi story car parks of that era. Once the rust gets into the metal rods it cracks internal, almost exploding from inside, you then see the brown/red streaks.
The poem makes no social references and is simply describing how nothing is safe, people or buildings. Skem happened to spring to mind as I work there once a week. My experince as it happens with skem is that it is actually a calming place for me. Its well planted as you point out Isobel and there are some great green spaces. The super-sized Asda is well equpped, the road layout is sensible and there is NEVER any traffic problems. I think that some houses have not wethered brilliantly and efforts should be made to improve some property schemes or look at some new build.

But I do have to say the poem really has little to do with the actual Skem concourse, it could easily be Gateshead or Trellick tower in London.

Isobel

Sat 10th Jul 2010 17:01

Glad to hear it Rachel! Yes - learning to handle conflict as a child is an excellent preparation for adulthood. Loads of you lot used to bus it down to my high school and it became pretty rough. In lessons that weren't streamed, like french, it was the worst. They hated kids like me who enjoyed learning. I learned how to stand up to a crowd by looking them in the eye and never saying no to a fight. I never fought though - it never comes to that with bullies. I do think it taught me a thing or two that has come in handy later in life - or perhaps I had it in me already - who knows?
Thanks for reminding me about Skem connie Pete. There is a pair of red patent leather doc martin rip offs that I'm hoping are still waiting for me!

Isobel

Sat 10th Jul 2010 13:38

Yes - I knew glass was liquid - and funnily enough that line really stood out to me when I first read it. I didn't know it sagged with time though - I thought it just got broken.

Rachel, I'm not looking down my nose at anyone who shops at the connie - though I have to say that the kids are not overly endowed with good manners - I suppose that you can only be what you are taught to be though - so some people just can't help it.

Would agree with you that the architects need shooting. They did a good job with the trees in Skem though. When we first drove there after coming back from Oz, my son thought it was a lovely place and wondered whether we should live there.

Pete Crompton

Sat 10th Jul 2010 12:19

izzy, ta. Hey did you know the 'liquid window' line, well glass is liquid, after a while it actually sags, if you look on old buildings, crazy that. Skem concourse, lovely..........

Isobel

Sat 10th Jul 2010 10:05

The personification of Nature - what a brilliant poem! Nature seems very malevolant though I guess that is because it carries with it death and decay. Us humans regret our own mortality above all else. Great flow of thought and imagery. I see you have visited Skem concourse - high time Nature reclaimed that eyesore. They do have a great little shoe shop in the market area though...

Ann Foxglove

Sat 10th Jul 2010 06:31

Really like this, lots of phrases are great. Menacing but natural at the same time. Miss Haversham contemplating the end of the world! x

Francine

Sat 10th Jul 2010 02:02

I love the title and the meaning behind it!
Very clever Peter... And this definitely needs to be read several times to take it all in.

Je me souviens de cette photo aussi.

xxxxx

Pete Crompton

Sat 10th Jul 2010 00:26

Dave, thanks, its fallen into 3 pieces, i may apply some abridgment

Dave Carr

Sat 10th Jul 2010 00:16

Pete,Good one.I like especially..grand grey of your skelmersdale concourse and This illness is tattered cloth Between your ears In all canals Dave

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