Poem from Avalanches in Poetry Writings & Art inspired by Leonard Cohen (2019)by Barney Ashton-Bullock “Yet”


Just a blurry Instamatic of a beautiful oblivion;
your pulse of molten honeyed cuss splurged
amphet emphatic 'cross empathies so tautly gut
strung; aggressive passivities' midst the berserk
crosswinds of all our jading, estranging, ageing lives.
Yeh! We who'd meanly thrived a while
decrying those who'd run 'empty to depot'
or into sand-drags and cul-de-sacs headlong,
when we were wired and unreasoned,
when we were high and couldn't know
that for every passing night train seen,
there'd be many that ran slow
and yet still made their way to Jesus
on some hallowed old railroad.
Uninvited revenants
can sabotage their deities.
Ad hoc flash-mob choirs gnarl
their by-rote chew of your psalmic 'Hallelujah' as a
latterday laical 'Amazing Grace'
in a virtue-signalled, idolatrous, paean deadpan.
(With a side order of triple fried tears sigh-cried, m'dead dear!)
Their churn of appropriated hosannas amaze me.
Their strewn, flung flumes of approximated levities
that bomb-rush bang the tenderer quietudes of resolve.
It is such we meek and merciful fans are slain whilst
in smulchy meditative mood; our mourn allayed.
As a grazed petal in a wind buffed descent might
skitter its chapped whispers until its end around
the remnants of diminished sonant range, and
gruffer mauls of declarations made, so,
luscious lowing Cohen intoned, stentorian steady,
ethereal as an icicles last twist of gliss,
his proffered profundities so profoundly missed
and, yet,  by most ignored as we, forlorn
satellites, drift half kiss to half kiss within
the interstice of the self-same gyres of
the 'sacred' and 'profane', yet, tardily realise they
said of Madame Thatcher too, 'We will not know
their like again'...
Just a blurry Instamatic of a beautiful oblivion;
we remnant cones of desiccant, we debris of
disciples who burnt, with you, in you, for you,
In the immanent umbra, and in the protective Arc
of your sainted, yet secular, book of sensu-songs
that frond our hubris, our hubris frond.

Meet the Fevers of the Mind WolfPack: Barney Ashton-Bullock

Poetry entry for Avalanches in Poetry 2 by Barney Ashton-Bullock : L’anti-arriviste est parti

Bio: Barney Ashton-Bullock, is the poet/librettist in the ‘Andy Bell is Torsten’ music-theatre-poetry collective and he narrates his own verse on the Downes Braide Association albums. He is the founder of Soho Poetry Nights. He has poetry published, or pending publication, in a wide range of cult poetry journals**, in the ‘Avalanches In Poetry’ tribute anthology to Leonard Cohen, in the Dreich pamphlet ‘Famous’, in the Pilot Press ‘Queer Anthology Of Healing’ and in the 'Soho Nights' anthologies published by The Society Club Press who also published his first collection ‘Schema/Stasis’ in 2017. His latest poetry pamphlet ‘Café Kaput!’ was published by Broken Sleep Books in 2020.<br>(**the Wellington Street Review, the New River Press Yearbook, SPAMzine, Re-Side Magazine, -algia Press, Scab Mag, Pink Plastic House Journal, Lucky Pierre Zine, Poetry Bus, Neuro Logical Magazine and the Babel Tower Notice Board)

By davidlonan1

David writes poetry, short stories, and writings that'll make you think or laugh, provoking you to examine images in your mind. To submit poetry, photography, art, please send to feversofthemind@gmail.com. Twitter: @davidLOnan1 + @feversof Facebook: DavidLONan1


Leave a comment

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: