Poetry Corner

M A E L S T R O M

M A E L S T R O M 

 

grieVinG anD mouRninG ,

mouRninG anD grieVinG ;

aH , wHaT giFTs arE theSe

beQueathED tO mE ?

thE tanGLe oF genEraTioN upoN genEraTioN

whiLsT miNe owN saD

riSinG anD faLLinG

wiTH thE eterNaL tiDe –

aN oceaN oF tearS .

                  +

ThiS bereAVament teLLs mE onLY

theRe iS nowHerE to hidE

anD nowHerE tO gO .

                  +

a senSe oF gLiMMerinG hoPe onLy

caLLs fainTLY iN thE darK –

jusT onE sLiveReD inJecTioN

woULd inSerT a neW LiFe

intO thE maeLsTroM :

a tinY I wouLd lOvE

anD reLeaSe iN timE .

                  +

aLL arouNd mY shaPE

theSe wOunDeD wOmB-caRRieRs groW biTTeR

aS theiR auTuMnS becKoN –

drAiN dEEplY thE winE-skiN

whiLsT deCaY witHiN

reMoVeS aLL poSSibiLitiEs .

Ben Browton (a.k.a. Seymour Bybuss) Sludgeness-On-Sea – tMx 30 – 06/07