July 2015 – sermonsfromthewasteland

(Dracula)- drop c#

[Ala Peter Gunn, blues bros..yet heavy metallic]

Your body’s Black

And engine’s Red

A smokin’ stack

Comes from yr head.

…

Tyres like hooves –

To scratch the road,

Low slung n heavy –

Bout to explode.

…

(Chorus..x2. )000oohaah Dracula!

…

Chrome n’ Black

You’re dynamite

Suck down soul

My dreams take flight

…

Scream n’ roar

You’ve left yr mark

Like Dracula

In the dark.

…

(Chorus..x2. )000oohaah Dracula!

…

(Long solos – 1st guitar, then drums – bass steady throughout, maintain verse chorus structure)

…

Thund’ring gun

Street lights blur

A carroselle

Visions whir.

…

Blood will flow

heads will roll

when Dracula

takes its toll.

…

(ENDING to be confirmed on the night!)

a writing space created by Cameron Semmens

for people to come and learn poetry – all poems here by Daniel Atkins

Nb. the times are just when I typed them into facebook for public consumption

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Poem Tao (3 July 2015 at 06:04)

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Like lighting cigarette butts

chinks in a wood paneled wall

the sun – in a golden sphere with shadows scattered

like your tongue stuck to an icy pole poems;

those intense, condensed pallets of joy

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Unicorn (27 June at 00:59)

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breath is ragged now rasping and scraping

like the scrabbling sound of my hooves on the stone path

deep breaths as the bushes lash by madly I drive on… why am I running …

then the smell of the hounds enters my flared nostrils

the clatter of weapons and exultant cries fill the air

… I’m found.

Down with my head – horn pointing to the shadows …

deeper into the tree lined green pounding are my legs

the solid brown earth is met by my pounding

straining, gasping, leaping, dodging…

the hunt fades and the air becomes cool and clear

As panic subsides I’m left with the steam – exhale billows.

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Lazy Raptor (27 June at 00:26 )

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I don’t know so much about you my friend –

hidden away till the dark of night glaring through arched brows

with disdain blending with ease in flight or on perch.

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You strike when least expected

with force when every thing’s settled, everything’s in place

you pounce with coiled energy from soaring loft

shattering the silence like a haunting cry

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Then you’re gone like the master of disguise

why cant you show yourself and stand in the light?

gone – to be seen occasionally tallow eyes

mockingly winking through your hiding place

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I think I’d like to hunt you, own you, control you; yet,

like your cousin, the eagle, you are beyond – older –

and I feel that I should not trespass….

perhaps, after all you are just a sleepy head.

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Extinction (27 June at 00:51)

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Everything is seen through red haze the scent of your prey drives –

you are the state of control.

Your shiny marble eyes are bulging

in your sharp craggy tooth head –

you are the height of fear.

Behind the thick calm of the jungle – bustling smile of the everyday –

you are stomping your destruction –

you are close mindedness.

Soon you know you’ll fall – will it be a long winter of peace and goodwill…?

Your arms swing with cocked claw minute against your

scaly, scared torso.

Soon you will be extinct – the day will come when bright love will destroy

your shadow, till then the thrill of the hunt is the pulse of your heart.

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Masked Ball (21 June at 07:44)

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Flashes of bright costume in wine glasses,

glimpses of hands lifting masks glitter,

flurry of shadows spinning on floor chequered –

peels of laughter ending squeals of delight –

tail brushing the pressing throng.

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Fruit Salad (21 June at 07:20)

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Roughly proportioned, juicy chunks

each holding a cold quenching sliver

each resisting to release its passion ..

sounding a joyful chorus.

Fruit Salad

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One Track (20 June at 02:11)

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……. the other side of the station – fixed, concrete pillared,

uniform and simple this time he’s travelling back after fond goodbye

– eventually the train arrives.

The other side of the station; lined by straight brown rail and steel pin link,

…this time he’s pacing – adjusting tie and collar in the oncoming gust,

…the other side of the station; is dark, heavy construction – rims of steel rivets

… this time he feels light – the echoes of that evenings dinner

…conversation brushed aside by approaching carriage … getting on board –

it’s hard to shake sense of inevitable, magnetic moment.

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One (12 June at 04:49)

…………………………….(attempted hiku poem)

her silver moon face

we meet in-between lessons

life long memory

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Down Wollun (12 June at 04:38)

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Riding away from years of memories towards uncertainty –

I left behind the street I grew up in – most of me was numb,

mind playing over past scenes it was like being inside one of those

snow shakers – dislocation and permanence.

Nothing was there for me now!

A broken guitar lay on the skip that held all we left behind.

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sermonsfromthewasteland

Month: July 2015

Panthers

Dracula

Mr ODD Sox

Parachute

SHORT POEMS – 2015 – From “Write by Candlelight”