Faces lost in the moon-lit skies
passing souls crossing panicked eyes,
and it’s wonderful.
We are the fleets sailing by
we are the stores for Athenry
and we’re beautiful.
The air is scarce in stately places
the tiny heart so neatly races
and it’s powerful.
We are the words for profuse pages
we are the keys for rigid cages
and we’re beautiful.
The prints are deep so to be counted
the stones are cut and feet are pounded
and they’re colourful.
We are the artists who paint the mountains
we are the flow of effete fountains
and we’re beautiful.
We’re beautiful and we are chainless
our craft is pure and songs are sainted.
We sketch the sun and make it shimmer
we thaw the ice of wasteland winters.
We’re soldiers marching into conflict
and we’re wonderful.
There's a distinct drum beat here and words laid to compliment the meter. Read three times, last time aloud, heard that repeated phrase, '.. and we're beautiful.. ' at first whispered and then, last off, declared as if to say - believe me! Given the chance, artists of every genre, could gentle our world.. make for sunshine rather than storm.
There's a distinct drum beat here and words laid to compliment the meter. Read three times, last time aloud, heard that repeated phrase, '.. and we're beautiful.. ' at first whispered and then, last off, declared as if to say - believe me! Given the chance, artists of every genre, could gentle our world.. make for sunshine rather than storm.
I'm Jordan and I've been away for a while, but I'm trying to refind my voice and work towards a couple of projects.
In my late teens/early twenties I released two poetry collections which are avail.. more..