Fresh felt when seen as newly experienced
By those to whom such delights are alien
Wonders left behind by civilisations ancient,
Known to us of old though new again now.
The spirit of mirth expressed without censure
Fires us all to greater heights, unseen for
Many a moon or year’s passing, strangely
Filling another with unbound laughter.
Eyes of old societies and outdated cultures
Watch through swarms of flying insect lies
Risen from outmoded piles, heaps of customs
Dead from being rewritten over centuries.
They judge for they have eyes to judge with
Yet despite the Word they recognise not
Their own moral horror, hypocrisy held
As a banner with which to ward off corruption.
Inklings glimpsed before language arises
When already has pain reared its head
In every possible interstice for expression
Agonistic and antagonistic unknown afore
For what it was, met only later with recognition
Swarming to be heard, clamouring like
Calls of souls damned to hell by lies
Something has changed, eternal shift ever
Of paradigm to new design, unintentional
Moments segue from style to fact when
We are not looking, twist and turn slightly
From the mainstays we once knew.
A tiny touch of coolness in things
Which was absent before, drawn
Into being by circumstance, natural
Motions made in life’s course, force
Of alienation badly unexpected.
Perhaps this is the way things work,
Which we do not expect to develop
Within those social storm systems, tided
Over by weathering these conflictions
Of pressure collections, cooler and calmer;
A tropical new world outside, warm.
Points of responsibility taken, assumed
For want of no other willing to be that
One who stands, to whom the questions
Are laid as unto the rays of dank stars.
Trials like that of singular shoulders
Weighed down upon by personal
Merit, individual integrity, those points
Of our struggles more than identifiers.
That so many see curiousity instead
Of what we hold to valour, our honour
Ignored for blaise social commitments
To an ideal that we long ago disavowed.
Blazing towards a blood rusted copper sun
Neath the paling thick skies, disc of days
Risen from the shadows of night shines
Grand and bright, like a nuclear winter
Whence we harnessed the stars.
Cloud cover of Autumnal days lies
As a filter between the land and sky,
Sojourns kept separate from sand
Try spirits of the mundane humans
To reach, extend to the heavens.
Misfits of mad society fringes unite
In strange ways, after individual trials
That we existed through, survived
Without necessarily knowing, unaware
Of adversity faced and broken, barriers