Posts tagged ‘murder’

02/04/2013

The Harrowing

 

1.

From sky to sky the furrows blew

Away untended in the wind,

And scattered, like the absent birds,

Accusing hoards of shattered bones.

 

And from those salted furrows spread

A desolation thick with ash,

Which cursed the earth and sun and stars:

It settled on the crops like rain.

 

The memories stopped, the histories stopped,

In lines of charred remains they stopped,

The furrows piled with families stopped,

The lines of generations cut.

 

The sky above was blue and cold,

As empty as this land was old.

 

2.

The breeze has blown the needles clean.

Along the ridgeways, through the parks,

Across the waste ground and the plains:

For some the stories never end.

 

The needles clean, the branches blown,

The avenues of memory quake.

The yew and cypress tremble through

The death of air, the fear of rain.

 

They bow before the emptiness,

They shiver with each final breath.

Each tale is one more silenced year.

The scars are needle sharp and old.

 

The echoes shake these moors and dales.

The trees are rattling day and might.

 

3.

To cleanse and wash away the stain

To put an end to all the pain

To purify and nullify

To simplify the tales to tell

 

To wipe the village, burn the land,

Erase the stories, strip the bones,

To hack and waste and salt the earth,

To foul the water, flame the corn.

 

To nail the poor inside their graves,

To open graves and hang the poor,

To starve and strip and flay the poor,

To throw the cannibals the poor.

 

The harrowing has turned the breeze,

The harrowing is shaking leaves .

 

 

18/02/2013

Vertigo

 

You fall before the final scene,

Tipped from the lip of suicide.

You try to fix a stable point,

Out there, beyond the camera stare.

 

Her face is lit in vivid green,

Your clammy palms and dripping tongue,

Obscene in spirals, circles, swirls:

You’re trapped and haunting streets of lust.

 

Obsessive cycles, garish forms:

You can’t avert your preying eyes.

You pray to find one last release.

A dress, a gaze, address, a death,

 

Then life – a woman, painted, pinned,

An object of your falling dreams.

 

 

response to the film “Vertigo”.

 

 

10/02/2013

The Hound of the Baskervilles

 

Around St Petersburg the fog

Is emanating tales of fear.

Its rotten stench has howled for years,

It spreads malignant myths of death.

 

The truth behind the curse is raw,

A void as deep as Russian steppes,

Where generations wait for word

Of riches mired as feudal hordes.

 

Those truths are never glimpsed for long:

They’re flashed as fugitives of code,

They’ll raise their dues and feed the hounds,

They’ll drag all wayward souls beneath.

 

The bleakest marsh has tales to tell:

For all around they’re tales of hell.

 

 

response to the film Приключения Шерлока Холмса и доктора Ватсона: Собака Баскервилей (The Hound of the Baskervilles): the version directed by Igor Maslennikov

10/02/2013

The Draughtsman’s Contract

 

The mirror carp outlive us all:

The monarchs, heirs and breeding mares.

The moat is thick as Irish blood,

It laps the brutal sandstone walls.

 

The clues are strewn across the fields,

And scattered out beyond these isles.

The desecrated arts of love

Can claim their ownership of graves.

 

Each day the gardens yield their fruit:

The murders, pomegranates, limes.

Exotic cultures lust for growth,

And envy is an ancient crop.

 

He goes where fame and money lead:

To shame and torture, birth and blame.

 

 

response to the film The Draughtsman’s Contract

 

 

03/02/2013

The Third Man

 

Between the lines of chaos left,

The shadows and the rubble piles,

The cats, the beggars and the old:

The ones whom death had overlooked.

 

He makes a simple killing there:

Chiaroscuro trades at night,

Around the Hofburg’s ruined walls,

Beneath St Stephen’s tarnished gold.

 

Sewer deep the devil rules.

An overspill of human loss,

From steppes and mountains, bombed out towns,

They cry to him through wounds of waste.

 

He’s there: a light to pry in graves.

He’s there, to light the caudite charge.

 

 

Response to the film “The Third Man”.