Wednesday, June 22, 2011

The Wilderness Years

Circe 584

dog god sings heaven

please remove these townsmen from my reign

please reveal that high bone, Adonai

a dagger my body can't escape

a hairy omnipotent

in free discord

in free Ireland

in free fall

a voice siren-like as it

travels south

past the window

clutching the blessed windpipe

on its way down.

Circe 585

the sky collapses

a tent on celebrants

a boozy carbine firing


listen for forgiveness

coming as an insult

a bucket of language in the

face of the incapable

our shoulders are worse

for the carrying of hate

a stunning fist to the face

will put right our ears

as we progress toward

the feast of pure reason

barking along the way.

Circe 586

privately bleeding from influence

our comrades, wronged, flee along the fringe

in expectation of cowardice

they faint from their flight.

They grab at blows and stand in the rain

too gentle to bark

too mad to get what's being said

we stand back and admire our work

smug crowd tugging at air

we were with him

who owns the right to talk

and who insults the day


Richard Ewing said...

All 3 compositions are stunning.
I'm particularly fond of number 2
love the rhythm and value jumps...

great stuff Mike.


Bill Jaynes said...

Wow, there is a clarity of mystery in these drawings. I'm awed this work.

Mike Tracy said...

Thanks, guys.

Simon Spare said...

"May we always be safe from the tyranny of the true believers" - prophetic words if I ever heard them - amazing drawings as always.