The Carmelites Rebellion I & II


Undistinguishable from tokens

of previous salutations–

in other words,

the greetings faded from auguries

which had been constructed

in order to pose questions

and elicit answers

to pressing engagements.


Hard-earned pennies melted

under the gaze of solar epiphanies

while green enablement

pictured squires and ladies

promenading through furrowed pastures

after the flood had made mud

of their land-locked love.


Half humping the rogue again

for this time he'd fallen down

the lane side and broken his leg,

standing now at half-mast

hungry for vitamin supplements

to boost the precious tonnage.


And the monks were surly

for in their crocus garden

the worm had turned

and eaten lettuce, spinach

and all the fine beautifully-tended veg.


And so their silence was astonishing

as half the populace stormed

their rich-picking place

to open up the gates

and let in fresher air,

prayers priceless still

but parsimonious in the extreme.


And porphyry again

wrenching the sacred emblem from their grasp

as if to say that no more could be extracted

from their deity.


But their prayers went heard into the star-lit sky

imploding the vestry in the process,

for their power was too great to handle safely.


And in that last quiet moment,

they sank to their knees

and wept into the soil

as their tears turned

to deep carnations

and others to irises

holy roses

paler petunias

and their garden sparkled

with the incandescence of their weeping

as they lay there exhausted

yet sleeping so peacefully.




Within the carmine reservoirs

floated fish in visions

sepulchral grating,

yet still they floated in visions

hunted for aeons

but now peacefull pasengers

in the gently undulating liquor

of post-natal streams

as sight startled them into picturing

and also into postulating

their purpose

their prose hinting always

that crying out louder

could produce goods

which are less stereotyped

in their design.


In the carmine lake

the fish blew bubbles

which picked their way

to the surface

and popped in the air

releasing ventiloquism odours

of literary wafting platelets.


And as these pockets of airlessness

circumnavigated entrances

to the rogue's palace

the astonishing miasmic pleasure

of inhalation

stupefied and tamed

nuggets of aurum

and plenty of crow-flying fauna.


Huguenots would have known their presence

and the task of humbling

controllers of crops–

hash-traps catalysing stunned pools

of ectomorphs swimming,

needing to pay buoyancy tithes

in perpetuity.


Honest patience–

cryptic trip switch

until electrifying forces

shatter the crowing platelets.


Harmony in parcels–

yoke loaded and presented as if the norm.

Studently plover fly nigh the time

for caressing the carmine lake.

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