The Dream at the Party
NB: Most 'ambitious' poem posted here so far, so please try to bear with it. Again I shall leave it open to interpretation rather than say 'this is about so-and-so' etc. Thanks.
The easterly breeze is quick to subside
The soft-scented summer air thickens
As I lean back and think of home
The grass beneath my feet turns dark
No attempt to block out these endless acts
In this circus of unforgiving, sit and stay
The evening haze intoxicates, as I
Watch the ambient lights blur into each other
The blackened hilltop awaits
The smell of burning in the air
Derelict walls and chambers
Surround the entrance here
Attacked on all sides again
The green evil that flows
Will despoil the pure grass
Tarnish the smoke-stained land
In the dark cellars underneath
Only evil lies, false promises
An ancient curse, helpless bodies
Corrupted and imprisoned
In this tortuous enclave
A hill full of rotting corpses
No longer desired or hated
Only left to suffer in pain
Surrounded by petty followers I'll smile
As this bitter night only twisted onwards
This evening that stretched the boredom
To breaking point and fuelled the thought
Walking on the cliffs in midnight turmoil
The putrid bodies washed out to sea
Not brought back by the tide again
Left in the goblet I had drunk from
Seething tempests wreck the shoreline
The edifice crashes down and sinks
In all its rotting glory, no more but blackness
Swallowed whole by the unfed waves
As the stars slowly flicker out one by one
My eyes open, the lights are extinguished
Ready for next year, but I will not return
Leaving my seat I start off back home
garside
Sun 3rd Feb 2013 10:21
i really like this poem - the word sounds move the poem on as a journey - the narrative is consistent as it moves from light to dark
leaves me with a peripheral feel for Dante and Blake, twisting together to provide some light for me in these rooms of your ambition
:-)