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HOI POLOI

Poetry By: jcvf
Poetry



HERE IS A POEM DELIBERATING SOME INNER CONCERNS OF THE WRITERS MIND EXECUTED IN RHYMING FREE VERSE. HOPE CONTENT IS APPRECIATED.


Submitted:Apr 26, 2013    Reads: 9    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   


HOI POLOI

It is an ordinary life,

Mary Magdalene as your wife,

Mother Mary with the umbilical cord

And her son as the lord

As they get out the knife.

I cook coke

And I am from Norfolk.

I live in Suffolk

And I am a bit of a joke.

And there are all these folk

Under the yoke.

We do our shooting

And a bit of computing

And we get what we want,

Tend to that marijuana plant.

Open up that front door for

The cunt of a whore,

North and South,

Israel and Judah

With America

As we saw what it was all about,

Poetry learning to encapsulate

When it comes to create.

And there is another hereditary title

With Mother Mary and the bible

And there is the depth of the psyche

In the air with the breath of Aphrodite.

You may act like a cunt

When you get drunk

Working out the synchronicity

That flows through all the electricity

With gods and goddesses

And the breath of all the roses

And there is one particular one

That opened up its revelation.

One door closes

So see another one open

Like supple roses

And the legs of women.

C'est la musique de l'amour.

C'est la femme qui j'habite pour,

Loving her at that house in her room,

A heart going boom boom

As now her delicate

Flower of fate

Is abloom.

There's roses between thorns,

The scene being us seeing

Rainbows and unicorns

And so we seem to be dreaming

As this poetry forms

Deep within the myth

And I write it out with the pith.

There's suicide and Islam

And the bride of the lamb.

You went to oblivion to get lost.

Now you discover what it cost.

I wish I could be more mature

And then there is the selection of nature.

It could be said I am vermin,

Worse than Jermyn,

And of course not as good

As we wander around

One particular neighbourhood

And we beat out this sound

Only because we could

And all this potential unwraps

The future before each synapse

And life continues on and on

Through the blues of revelation

Each colour existing in our head,

The whole spectrum from blue to red

As we find out what needs to be said,

It coming to be that this mind is read.





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