“All the Devils are here” started as just a piece of writing…
the prologue to an untold story
of one dreamt redemption and a lone redundant release
adrift with the breath of murder in the breeze
cold outro’s intro for the end days glory
here’s the hill so now walk mad madman
shepherd mocking the errant stride
it’s not here for the end but the ride
lost course unset for the lost helmsman
witness tired fathers flux under raw suns
snatched golden tickets for the last curtain fall
head drilled deep called another steeled tool
confusing sons wave to greet chasing guns
the broken winged cry of that busboy
desperate not to be scared of knowing
fat diners demand their clutched crowing
pulling white flags over that convoy
from the big window of the showroom
so certain sure they’re mechanic kingpin
thinking they’ve an in on the engine
that they’re not shopfloor, but boardroom
loudest called that business of bullhorn
sitting in the dark shedding the crown
crying alone won’t bring anyone down
our screaming together ever should warn
yet i will stand and play for all your teams
a decision shared being a decision halved
choice of fight or flight now salved
vanished screams whispered your varnished dreams
and when the sun shone on me after it died
I couldn’t wish to leave any flowers
worms ate the living marrow’s many hours
for none but the undeserving cared or cried
dropping grains of sand in an ocean
cynicism, precise, proficient and profound
to push the waters back over lost ground
i stand ever the priest to your devotion
from the hunt to the kill the shooter’s ungagged
technical worshipful white coated magicians
highlight our bombsighted dead-hand ambitions
blackened burnt cotton your ending is flagged
broke on the soil your draft’s soft plough
on earth race the heart of the raven
in seas let it loose to fresh sown haven
turning tides pulling high lumbered scow
hawkish gods drop from high for my tarring
so another strayed consequence
leaving no mark of significance
i am nothing if not nought, feathered but sparring
bitter succour on a bed of bloodless red roses
crossed by my heart and seen all to die
diamonds promised dropped downcard high
your cold deck’s the future our player proposes
reason of reason, the reason for school
for thought is the measure
that idea the treasure
the unimagined machine wrecking the rule
you never need fear the hunters of the fawn
when the light cuts and their guns holler roughshod
whistle stay for the day to drive to your night god
be yet the eater of their sins at the call of dawn
dreaming of salt still the seller’s price
it’s sympathy or a no-show so
squeeze out that tear for the window
not too much – one tear will suffice
you will never erase aged cruor from this page
to sink and be your own saving hand
from that loneliest seat in the land
free of the name sighed amid love and rage
paper tigers roar their headlines
tattooing your anger on a virgin arm
ink thick theories of more lessened harm
declaring theirs but not your dead lines
and calling time on the writers’ deaths
almost all sold long lost for a lie
i drink the hard sorrow of that last sigh
wind washes over those final breaths
but the love will always grow through
stoney ground baked to concrete
the weed never surrenders defeat
rising unwanted flowered twisting screw
bare your breast and point the arrow
a finger touches the mirror
brings the lost heart nearer
and warm grounds yield to cold harrow
sallow sun shifts a burn now sacred
then stands a face rift of silence
quiet burning a wind shouts defiance
your hurricane heart calling out hatred
watching masters see all and our bier
wishing above all our calmed surrender
but time and patience is our coin to tender
so kings and beggars march too the same sphere
all lands fear the wolves now walking
to towers now sounding their falls
below boughs broken and turned to fresh halls
not seeing the faun always calmed and stalking
humility announces the final treachery
even as it presents invitation
high steps leading to an abdication
our last line of idiocy and false century
guydenning.org 