Clive Gresswell
covid + me
1/ imbalance grows perfection moss heaped with the heavy bearing and all that fall or did you say call as we gather up from the threshing fields the covid injections and abandoned rays that split the son away from birth that first recoiled at the ends of the earth that first said how much are you worth with your medallion eyes and your torture eyes and your weeping eyes and your mouth tongue which crawls at the feet of decadent curses and you climb into the fire and you split into two your freezing body of covid ice covering for the lonely and those who never felt before the intensity of this holy war fought in heaven fought on earth with lines that crack and bleed from the royal blue bloods to the poor set at sea while the ambulances screech collecting bodies downtown and the memoir that induced panicking with a pandemic on the loose but never far from the fallen strange from the hellbent bodies on the firing range with no tragedies to offer the rich or poor no explanations from the virus to the sore and singing an infected chorus saying why have you done this and your covid eyes spear through the heart forcing whirlpools of families straight through their hearts in a lonely film in a lonely place teeming with silence from the human race who wild and wicked had returned to space with the fortunes of science hurled at their faces while the forces of nature escape all the cages in animal labs where they’d been locked in for ages. Awaiting return of the holy sages.
2/ a diploma for the wildness in me. For the hunt towards a stronger nature a force of nature inside nature to dry the eyes from the tears of nature the call of civilization drowned in zygotes in the nucleus of family living in the strong compulsion to explode several miles along the road and the eyes of a traitor call off that nature where man must conquer civilization in the force of nations whose nature is a curse on the lips of man and his creations howling after survival instincts that just test with examinations and his narrow eyes say are you better than me then with your bitter flem and your heightened devices checking out the places where civilization fell into a crater atop a well and society’s structure collapsed into the morning of this rapid yawning and nature filled my soul with yearning while skies were purple and cities burning no escape no escape for anyone not just anyone would survive but only those who cheated and lied in a desperate plot to rule the world whose wicked plot is now unfurled and slammed and crushed against the sun not just anyone would get out alive and covid is dancing on all the graves that civilization proudly made and it’s laughing inside like a whirling dervish at all the chaos every day and then a new strain bleeds into our brains and civilization calls for a truce as the covid sweeps around human places where once love was made it holds all the aces.
3/ deep inside injections are made. People in purgatory isolated afraid. There is no power to turn to. To lead us all together we have to dance alone thru the wild words here thrown like a potter hurls his clay and a painter slabs their paint in the twinkling of an eye by tomorrow this could all be gone without malice or ingratitude just because we wasted food and left the poor and starving to fend for themselves while dying and we just shut our mouths said what can we do me and you and covid spread in our victims hands and no-one tries to understand beyond the words that tie us in that call to us but do not reply like in some strange mass illusion that only causes confusion and no one knows the burning howling wind and how its nature sinned and could not be contained from coming out on top of the rolling hills in this sacred place full of life laughter and race as if in turn we could return to the clay from which we came content and unashamed in the beautiful knowledge of a rainbow’s worth right here on earth. Where we fist stood amazed and stared into the dark and then muscles moved amid the first spark of a yearning unto life. With a child and a wife. And we stood and we sang into the hills which eased enough our cursed ills and those who were blind could see and those travellers shook hands despite the covid warnings.
4/ now it’s time to blast the freezing cold and the nakedness of old. But still we die. In our thousands. Like the Jews before us. And did we just try to beat this virus was there another way to save us without the clamouring and clawing for power and in this box I have an atom and in this box I hear your words. Your plans to destroy are clear to me. I know you as the enemy. We identify with each other’s lives not just allowing one to survive in their covid shelter. And so I roll my eyes to the top of the hill where he was born but I cannot see anything. My soul is dark. Please come in.
Clive Gresswell is an innovative writer and poet from the UK.
covid + me
1/ imbalance grows perfection moss heaped with the heavy bearing and all that fall or did you say call as we gather up from the threshing fields the covid injections and abandoned rays that split the son away from birth that first recoiled at the ends of the earth that first said how much are you worth with your medallion eyes and your torture eyes and your weeping eyes and your mouth tongue which crawls at the feet of decadent curses and you climb into the fire and you split into two your freezing body of covid ice covering for the lonely and those who never felt before the intensity of this holy war fought in heaven fought on earth with lines that crack and bleed from the royal blue bloods to the poor set at sea while the ambulances screech collecting bodies downtown and the memoir that induced panicking with a pandemic on the loose but never far from the fallen strange from the hellbent bodies on the firing range with no tragedies to offer the rich or poor no explanations from the virus to the sore and singing an infected chorus saying why have you done this and your covid eyes spear through the heart forcing whirlpools of families straight through their hearts in a lonely film in a lonely place teeming with silence from the human race who wild and wicked had returned to space with the fortunes of science hurled at their faces while the forces of nature escape all the cages in animal labs where they’d been locked in for ages. Awaiting return of the holy sages.
2/ a diploma for the wildness in me. For the hunt towards a stronger nature a force of nature inside nature to dry the eyes from the tears of nature the call of civilization drowned in zygotes in the nucleus of family living in the strong compulsion to explode several miles along the road and the eyes of a traitor call off that nature where man must conquer civilization in the force of nations whose nature is a curse on the lips of man and his creations howling after survival instincts that just test with examinations and his narrow eyes say are you better than me then with your bitter flem and your heightened devices checking out the places where civilization fell into a crater atop a well and society’s structure collapsed into the morning of this rapid yawning and nature filled my soul with yearning while skies were purple and cities burning no escape no escape for anyone not just anyone would survive but only those who cheated and lied in a desperate plot to rule the world whose wicked plot is now unfurled and slammed and crushed against the sun not just anyone would get out alive and covid is dancing on all the graves that civilization proudly made and it’s laughing inside like a whirling dervish at all the chaos every day and then a new strain bleeds into our brains and civilization calls for a truce as the covid sweeps around human places where once love was made it holds all the aces.
3/ deep inside injections are made. People in purgatory isolated afraid. There is no power to turn to. To lead us all together we have to dance alone thru the wild words here thrown like a potter hurls his clay and a painter slabs their paint in the twinkling of an eye by tomorrow this could all be gone without malice or ingratitude just because we wasted food and left the poor and starving to fend for themselves while dying and we just shut our mouths said what can we do me and you and covid spread in our victims hands and no-one tries to understand beyond the words that tie us in that call to us but do not reply like in some strange mass illusion that only causes confusion and no one knows the burning howling wind and how its nature sinned and could not be contained from coming out on top of the rolling hills in this sacred place full of life laughter and race as if in turn we could return to the clay from which we came content and unashamed in the beautiful knowledge of a rainbow’s worth right here on earth. Where we fist stood amazed and stared into the dark and then muscles moved amid the first spark of a yearning unto life. With a child and a wife. And we stood and we sang into the hills which eased enough our cursed ills and those who were blind could see and those travellers shook hands despite the covid warnings.
4/ now it’s time to blast the freezing cold and the nakedness of old. But still we die. In our thousands. Like the Jews before us. And did we just try to beat this virus was there another way to save us without the clamouring and clawing for power and in this box I have an atom and in this box I hear your words. Your plans to destroy are clear to me. I know you as the enemy. We identify with each other’s lives not just allowing one to survive in their covid shelter. And so I roll my eyes to the top of the hill where he was born but I cannot see anything. My soul is dark. Please come in.
Clive Gresswell is an innovative writer and poet from the UK.
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