-
Caxtons are mechanical birds with many wings
and some are treasured for their markings-
they cause the eyes to melt
or the body to shriek without pain.
I have never seen one fly, but
sometimes they perch on the hand.
Mist is when the sky is tired of flight
and rests its soft machine on ground:
then the world is dim and bookish
like engravings under tissue paper.
Rain is when the earth is television.
It has the property of making colours darker.
Model T is a room with the lock inside-
a key is turned to free the world
for movement, so quick there is a film
to watch for anything missed.
But time is tied to the wrist
or kept in a box, ticking with impatience.
In homes, a haunted apparatus sleeps,
that snores when you pick it up.
I the ghost cries, they carry it
to their lips and soothe it to sleep
with sounds. And yet they wake it up
deliberatly, by tickling with a finger.
Only the young are allowed to suffer
openly. Adults go to a punishment room
with water but nothing to eat.
They lock the door and suffer the noises
alone. No one is exempt
and everyone's pain has a different smell.
At night when all the colours die,
they hide in pairs
and read about themselves-
in colour, with their eyelids shut.
- by Lost Soul 1991 |
- Poetry And Lyrics
- | Submitted on 09/30/2009 |
- Skip
- Title: A Martian Sends a Card Home
- Artist: Lost Soul 1991
- Description: This poem is really called A Martian Sends a Postcard Home and its by Craig Raine.
- Date: 09/30/2009
- Tags: martian sends card home
- Report Post
Comments (0 Comments)
No comments available ...