Tuesday, April 26, 2016

Jonathan Beale- Three Poems


Sign o’ the Times

 31 March 1987

U turn on the telly and every other story
Is tellin' U somebody died
.’

Requiescat in pace  - Prince Rogers Nelson

In the weight of the world
Under a cloud of unknowing
This keen eye drew the fiery vision:
And beat a new tongue out in
Funk, soul, psychedelic pop,
Electro, and good old 4 on 4 rock music.
This world - this perdition - grey cold
The world strangely uncompromisingly

Deconstructed - not so much as to lose
Its’ very essence –in its very being.  
The world woven of strange moralities
With the lush draw of a world in all its vices.
The attraction is too, too, much, then crisis.  
Like advised lets fall in love B4 it’s too late.
Some say a man ain't happy unless a man truly dies
Oh why?  Oh Why?  Sign o’ the Times….  Time.


Lady Cab driver

‘She carried the many, she carried few
Hear them ask - Can U take me 4 a ride?
Don't know where I'm goin' 'cuz
I don't know where I've been.’
In the shadow and mists of the night -
The need to - in motion of the motion of the world
She held the wheel with absolute intention  
“Just drive, destination not known.”   
The sweat drenched body
In the abstract mirrored eye contact
Esmerelda sees Butch - an accident
Of fate - they are in the zone -
A place where names don’t mean shit
The continent of the cab - the blur
Of neon, mirrored reflection, stop signs
The passing cries of strangers “Taxi!  Taxi!”
Their voices fade – this taxi and she is mine.
For now! 
            This is 4 the destination.  
            This is 4 when your lips meet mine.  
            This is 4 the jazz breathing the air.
            This is 4 the sheep who feed on media hype.
            This is 4 the homeless guy forgot by all except the eye.
            This is 4 for the first spring dawn.
            This is 4 the last dollar in my pocket.
            This is 4 the Red Corvette from 1958.  
            This is 4 when we have reached the top. 
            This is 4 the bullet laden teenage gangster.  
            This is 4 whoever devised Route 66.
            This is 4 and the Rolling Stones for Beggars Banquet.
            This is 4 the storm and may it soon pass.    
            This is 4 your smile and may it remain etched in my mind for all time.  
            This is 4 the moon and stars.  
            This is 4 the drunk who’s flat out of dreams and hopes
            This is 4 your God and May they stay by your side – always
    And this is 4 U!  U!  U!  U!  U!  U!  U!  & U!


After Prince

In a glimpse of a vast universe
Making our everyday life – wondrous
Some kind prophet of A New Age
An age he made his own
His words need no explanation
Help in his hands the beauty of passion
The Love and the Sex in the graffiti
Of the mesh of humanity.
In this very mettle of the breath of life
The energy, who visceral
Yet now, out, out, brief candle.   


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