Plutocracy Borne Blackbird

I close my eyes to you–
Distance in the mirror
Couldn’t get any clearer–
Solely– arresting repose–
Break a mind– we depend
On seclusions acclaim
To manufacture our place–
Pipe dreams and revolution
Couldn’t hold a heart
In winters ancient concern–
Arouse– parallel–
All nature washed away
By human avarice–
Withdrawal became a company
To which we feed our soul–
Soylent green and fava beans
Serve those at our table–
The association of pigs and wolves
Indoctrinate
Our happy hate
With godless fate
In his name– renown– admire–
Walls crumble at their blast
And Jericho lives
Among falls colours–
Among the river
Of cardinal stigmata–
She waited by its bordered heart
To see the last light of the day–
Silver threads dance
In memory and love–
Justified in presumed beauty
And black disengagement–
Around the world
Change degrades–
Beauty suppress by lies
Through protected dreams
Hands us only fear–
The TV sells them all–
We claim for the best–
We claim for the good–
We claim for ablostution–
But the stagnant hold
Draws us near in comforts
Wholly graze–
I wish the world a better caretaker–
We lived a little
In those days of ours– between
The dusk and dawn of humanity–
Corrosive gaze– insignificance
Polar in vanished time–
And time again became
Our friend–
Embraced in mourning wear–
Returning to that rich entombed
Casket– Mother calls home–
Our own despair
Is masked in debt
To artificial avatars–
And our sacrifice
Moves steadily
In the wrong
Direction–

Poem © Phen Weston 2014