Upon stoic hills risen to point on platitude, distinct for I have seen on this day a path in winding for me, with a gold cross, set forth for others who may follow to cleanse imperfection and the despair of suffering, like a magnet drawn in gravity scale I go.
Tag: injustice
The Order is Silent
The order is silent curtain by curtain, street by street, all is closed but for a faded light and lagoons fill with unspoken truth, drowning interrogation from the master. A drop in deep green water but the curtains remain closed and dim light still fazed, a sky ship rises but they; I mean they, did not obtain what they wanted…
Blonde Saviour
I’m faithless, life made me that way in shear numbers the odds were stacked one mind pushing a million more back in a false endeavour, as evolution was sliding me away, an individual’s prayer in the masses. Like drowning in the ocean, who has the right to ask in this crucible of despair. Like young animals if we are treated right we might be kind, but we fight poverty inequality, discrimination in demarcation zones of modern life. Where even shouting louder never gets you heard, so we look to the sky on a clear evening. That can be a prayer if only I could reach the stars that tempt the mind to hope for better, till the silver ships arrive and a blonde saviour and partner shining Adam and with his eve, for we will start again.
Mason Cult Poems For The Modern Hell The Ideal Xmas Pressie.
The mind of maverick poet Mason Cult, grappling the hell of modern living, poetic despair and deep thinking. Mason at his most difficult and reflective moods in his fourth poetry book from the Peoples Republic of Yorkshire. Feel the anger as Mason battles against modern life or the modern hell of living as he often calls it. No matter how stressful life gets there is always time for poetry.
Advent of Dawn
Advent of dawn in the light of the lenses shining upon droves of trailing wanderers emerging from dawn mists in greys, apparel from where we know, not yet disturbing shadows, casting men twice with a trailing spirit that follows. Dragging strained and forever more I turn to watch as thousands of shadowed grey souls disappear again into evening mists.