Returning 

awash with the temple sea dredged up dignity & the landlocked sure beats in harmony a wheeling caw of blackened doves jettisoned from the backlog into the forefront of your desires the crushing cruising spleen-filled fury where spirits play hide & seek among the whalebone tongue & chipped teeth swallowed whole vantage the next line is porous and permeates across years all embellished the total sum gathering among its skirts & supine boasts that public opinion is best-served by a shove-ha’penny democracy dripping down the coma-inducing throat its useless liberation awash again with talk of vivid cinematics dubbed flying with the tint bespeckled language learnt from half-streets at the feet of the golden piper whose riven authority burns your jamboree turncoat executions/back again.

 Death 

we reach out to grab-hold this burning jewellery society beckoning the charred begotten limbs the pedestal laid before racks of marilyn munroe disc jockeys hazy smoke-filled denseness sealed with your own complicity you shadow-down your own half-truths & the bitterness declined by strangers they leap faith at you beyond clocks this world of ticking witchery fat-blossomed on the vine acreage of laughing highwire spectaculars substituting a weary reappraisal those wasted shells those years the burning empires beyond salvation beyond the freezing fronds of hell time warped and majestied into lightness & being hollowed & hallowed into sacred pits brandishing those complicit stories fired machine gun like epitaphs emblazoned behind such sultry smiles as any can
in the drolling army spread out across the counterpane those rituals to slaughter such mockingbird reprieves festooned & shattered the bleeding scab its discontent slit to the wrists of your wondering carved from the very duplicity girthed in social etiquette & death. 

 Epitaph 

an epitaph festooned brimstone begets trawling through high & mighty scapes your pearled laughter ignites incendiary biblical aftershock at the foot where they buried the very thought of your regime tucked and howled into pockets of protected youth which blossoms the fate previously disenfranchised in the twinkling & roving eye this destiny of rusted idle meanderings counter pained at rest from the birth-light of morning silted & edged in the blackened margins where those conceived conceited into oblivion the language torn & guttural festers in braids of despair rattling cages those who would tally on the fringe of this high & mighty war & attrition expelled from the TV virtue those bleeding soldiers. 


Clive Gresswell is a 65-year-old innovative writer and poet.  As well as appearing in many poetry magazines Clive who has a poetry MA, has authored several poetry books and his work can be found on Amazon.