Love's Shilling for Elwen

This is a story of love ~
it leaks from my eyes
like dew settling on buttercups,
and is silent as the heart of space
where graveyards go to mourn.
Strength in adoration ~ Cariad!
Any shrill of banshee
or septic tide of ill blood
would shudder in my ruin
and be slain before they reached the crib.
For I am God,
her earthly sheild on a thistle'd road;
a father colossus able to pierce lungs of crocodiles
and shatter Evil's warring blade...

@Steven Francis poems 2011

Quid, Innit

And down the bookshelves go!
Letters and sonnets
paragraphs and novellas,
ready for rag and bones
as the masses drop their courtesies
for scabby plastic treasures
and processed tinderbox broth.
Blackpool for the Aegean
comics for the squalid,
let go the scythe
plunge it into demi~jons of jolly fudge;
film versions of everything
to woo acoustic warriors in pits.
Tales are dying without martyr
and the headless kooks run rampant
in dog dead wastelands...

@Steven Francis poems 2011

The Vegetarian BJ Queen

Seductive and carnivorous
poisonous and chivalrous,
Medusa Jones, the vegetarian BJ queen.
Blessed are the outlaws who hold her hissing bonnet
as she sparks a pose from flint like hips
and bends so elegantly at the knee.
A humming rampant glow of the dark cenotaphs
hard as El Capitan,
making clever angels from fancy strokes
hooray for champions,
knights of the milk ribbons...

@Steven Francis poems 2011

The Core Parade

Aye thai chi, its common seekness
I seek thy brothers weakness,
I smell a mothers sickness,
fall on down, cherry headless.
Fall on
down
down,
down
onto oxygen lovers
and
buttery knickers.

Wait, hanging around in clusters
in my punk,
I bleed the wretched
and simmer them in fetid
pools of bacon rind
the cheap lardy kind.
Stagger over
mucas
boils,
grease
rancid dances
for oily kiss catchers.

The parade weakens
hook eyed by disease.
This is the stop,
this is
the
full
stop.
Sitahtlla forever...

@Steven Francis poem 2011

When I Was Tame

Some knew me before the hell ignited
in times before oceans seethed,
the dragon slept in its molten nest
while a gentler boyo breathed.

T'was there I walked in cushioned cysts
no whisky flamed these cheeks,
before glass and bolt descended
like crews of bandaged freaks.

My fists as calm as jellyfish
slapped on buttered thighs,
my skull fried storms a millpond
asleep behind virgin eyes.

Neither hurricane or gallows tune
creased this sober frame,
both fang and c**k stayed holstered
remembering I was tame.

Long nights were safe from phantom
and feral deathly hounds,
and mornings brought no iron grave,
no oubliette in the ground.

But mad frost fell upon sanctuary
and horns grew from the child,
both lambs and chicks lay scalded
from the halo of the wild...

@Steven Francis poems 2011

Kurzschluß

So short the accidents and beds,
blood of ills and cruel stabs
from hellish crazies;
so short the brittle walks and dances
of wolf and man in need.

In life already short of breath
the bandits are the force which shuttle lungs
further into spectre clutches.
Our dragon dawn hoisted
onto the mortal sails of birth.

Sick are the coils of spirits
and even more the root that lives;
but a kinder machine with immortal percussions
would not be kind at all.

Pinch the fat from bony desert trinkets!
Settle the jam on greying sands
while beggars at the rotten feast
kneel before tumour jars,
as hearts are loved and burned.

Eager fizzy broths of cancer
bringing messy scars to boil
while rabid horses stamp out time.
Short, too short
these velvet twists of fog
corroding the defiant springs of youth...

@Steven Francis poems 2011

Tricia Poe

Aimless we walk the clown candy neon bars
drenched by rain and bourbon,
through deathly pastures
where gulls form choirs of ragged poets
in the throat of night.

A raven audience
of spit and blades!
Strike my apparent iron ballad,
step gently into a valentine dance...

@ Steven francis poems 2011