Light Of Nails

Its time to pack and say goodbye
to fold these limbs and stop to die.
No more blinks or lardy coughs
the time has come to sleep with moths.
You'll miss me but not I you
a crystal eye as sharp as dew.
Hang the coats and burn the shoes
no more jokes, no more news.
Pain and trouble now myths to me
bodies wilt but souls go free.
A sash of light around the earth
sells this head and marks my birth.
Goodbye all, it is time to leave
the heavy shell of a bard called Steve...

© Steven Francis poems 2012

Vokal

The last chord from a red lane,
grinded away by tooth
and mortal air.
Two of us
granted no stay of death;
end words
as parched as desert stones.

Hear no more of me
and this clicking tongue.
Only in hearts and memories
are stages set
for a round of heavy sighs and prophecy.

Press "Play"
when lips will play no more,
and eventhough this soul has gone to roost
the vocals survive in mechanics.
No true end of words afterall,
no end no more in a televised century...

©Steven Francis poems 2012

On Blogging

Dead To Worlds

Tongue strained to overtures
and sand;
eyes closed yet alive to clocks
and inches,
rolling to tea and shop fronts
where stockings rise for chariots of ages,
the thellish strained overtures
and choirs of death.
I am death!
Eyes closed
and looking to the blind...


©Steven Francis 2012