Harpoon
Jack Grantham
Forty-Eight Poems
The Highest Form of Beauty
Chasing Butterflies and Birdsong
Harpoon
The images you will find brave-flapping,
Through squally sentence spray storm-blown,
Lyricism like plaintive gulls lighting,
Dead sky around the waste-land tip.
I See But Dimly Through The Veil
This magic sends a schism through me,
The raw shock of beauty,
Each time the veil is removed,
And my sensual sands riot.
Suva First-Time
The electric cobalt kick,
Like a soft collision by the pool,
My intellect inexplicably ripped,
And sublime tears laid-out,
Breathless across the blue-wide bay.
Toubkal
In full blood-thunder hurl,
Our mares' tails flying,
Staccato on white-water in our sliding.
Rock on hard rock!
Body shapes thrown in cremated air,
The acute pitch and jar of our jiving.
Soiled
Raped and burnt, the unruly tropical rainforest falls
Packaged and sold to the pampered as lightly polished sticks
And ground down to bitter potions
For the comfort of the impotent and insane
The Pale Green Glow
This dismembered soul, boiled, rendered down
This stagnant un-dead child, left wretched, all alone
This tiger-mauled bloody corpse
My heart gouged cold-chisel deep
Eaten raw, my greasy gob of protein
Spat out, cold on his infant bones
When The Shy White Deer First Appeared
Shirtless; when the shy white deer
Barely glimpsed through the thinning vapours,
Grey-lit by fringes of rimming light, The Dark Rigi
Rising, from the lips of his lustrous waters.
The Prince of All Darkness
Now I lie defiled,
My simpering sack split wide,
Oh float me on malicious ponds!
Exhibit me in naked cages!
I am your slave,
The prince of all darkness,
Stuffed and sated, snivelling, degraded.