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A fragment

Jeremy1012Jeremy1012 Posts: 7,170
edited October 2008 in Poetry, Prose, Music & Art
Mirror of man, the crow milling
Around the smoked brick stack
On yonder house, scavenger
Black as a sleeper's soul,
Yet guiltless, far from the murder's gaze.
The night is dropping over us.
"I remember one night at Muzdalifa with nothing but the sky overhead, I lay awake amid sleeping Muslim brothers and I learned that pilgrims from every land — every colour, and class, and rank; high officials and the beggar alike — all snored in the same language"
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Comments

  • Jeremy1012Jeremy1012 Posts: 7,170
    Literally a fragment, one of 5 so far in a poem comprised of many disjointed "broken" images, to steal an expression from T.S Eliot, relating to London. There is a vague thematic pattern but no narrative cohesiveness so I felt like posting the most complete part here to see what people might make of it, if anything at all.
    "I remember one night at Muzdalifa with nothing but the sky overhead, I lay awake amid sleeping Muslim brothers and I learned that pilgrims from every land — every colour, and class, and rank; high officials and the beggar alike — all snored in the same language"
  • Jeremy1012Jeremy1012 Posts: 7,170
    Laughter echoed in the chambers
    And the halls that stemmed the chambers
    Spiderlegged
    "I remember one night at Muzdalifa with nothing but the sky overhead, I lay awake amid sleeping Muslim brothers and I learned that pilgrims from every land — every colour, and class, and rank; high officials and the beggar alike — all snored in the same language"
  • Jeremy1012Jeremy1012 Posts: 7,170
    Cracckkkh, a moment's stumbling
    And Henri d'Orleans dead. A vortex hewn
    Of adolescent wood.
    What great MAGENTA cover'd frame lies
    In the mudded trenches. The future
    Is London but her sons are felled
    And felling.

    L'obscurité corrompt le peuple
    "I remember one night at Muzdalifa with nothing but the sky overhead, I lay awake amid sleeping Muslim brothers and I learned that pilgrims from every land — every colour, and class, and rank; high officials and the beggar alike — all snored in the same language"
  • Jeremy1012Jeremy1012 Posts: 7,170
    In the shards of moonlight
    under the tavern sign, creaking to
    and fro in the wild night rush
    the drunkards are swaying
    to the ring, ring, ring of
    the distant singing -
    'Hush-a-bye loo la-loo lo-lan,
    sing hush-a-bye too la-loo'
    "I remember one night at Muzdalifa with nothing but the sky overhead, I lay awake amid sleeping Muslim brothers and I learned that pilgrims from every land — every colour, and class, and rank; high officials and the beggar alike — all snored in the same language"
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