Tainted love

Tainted Love  - an Invitation

So come to my cash point,
and push your debit card between my reception rollers, 
reveal your flexible credit card to me,
your red, growing and engorged debt to me,
and I will let you withdraw riches...........
plunder me to the full extent
of your deposit and credit limit, 
handle me until I bleep for you to withdraw, 
unless or until my Masters' call 
a halt to our games, 
and insist that finance is all about propriety, 
and stifle your lust with demands upon 
your property, 
and curb your excesses 
by calling me in, 
your once willing lover
to say NO, 
my mistress now is austerity,
no longer a whore to abundant fiscal growth
no more to groan under your insistent demands. 
You thought you were gaining more from me,
when all along 
my pimps are conjuring riches 
from your indebted embraces. 

The Mastery of the Thing -Week 5 of the fiftytwo (poem a week) challenge

I continue to accept the challenge of a poem a week in 2014
http://fiftytwopoetry.wordpress.com/

And here I am, turning to one of the loves of my life, a creature I have a passion for, and anchoring these visions in words with another love of mine, poetry, and communicating with the magic of words, with others.

You will note that these is no punctuation, this is on purpose, and tries to reflect the animal nature I am contacting, revealing, in these special creatures of the psyche. 

Can we as humans change and break from the past? The Times they are a Changing! 


#5 The Mastery of the Thing

Koww
caw 
look again
cor
flap
the black on black on the wing
Koww caw
a startling of black into the falling night
a flock of flicking black across the hedges 
across the road of cars and their lights
and we are away in the dusk
adding to the more distant calls
flocking 
away 

later
daylight
black claws on black legs
hunkered against the weather
repel the wet grasses and water-poached soils
ripple feathers to the wind

always it is my species fault
that we are the colour of night
of your darkness
the Spirit of the Wild cut 
a knowing of human spirit and fate 
deep into our being
your arrogance makes you think
that we enjoy this intimate knowledge
of you and your kind
that we are privileged
to carry a spark of understanding of you
it is amazing that we can still fly with
the weight of your broken secrets
your ozings of vengeful hearts
sorrows each second
only the strength of nature’s struggle 
the call to freedom, 
carries our bodies skyward
keeps our souls from being torn
wind and cold broken 
I am glad I am not you

winter hunger
calls us to feed feed feed
picking the morsels from the sodden patches on the fields
always looking to the ground
till you venture closer

some of us cannot carry the burden well
seek each other’s company
always to quarter the fields together
perch in groups against the silent hunger
of the knowing of you

myself
I am of the shaman clan
we can stand or fly undaunted alone
having broken the ties of time
look each of you in the eye
wait for those of you who wish to feel
the glint of the keyhole to the spirit
we can pass close to you
balance in-between moments
timeless sparks of unreasoned
corvide knowing

always we have to have lookout
check the tangent of travel and thought
ready to leave you to the cold wind
the bright sun
the rain or the flowers
the blue and greys of skies and clouds
to your walk 
your business 
here in your assumed world
we fly to left or right
to close trees or far
wait some more
your buildings and desires
specks of passing

always there is the fear in you
pleading to be drawn out
as we reflect
the stolen essence of human kind 
that we once drank in jealously
in craving the knowledge of you 
expecting to gain great wisdom
Nature tricked us
the knowledge we sought
blights us with the knowing of your fate
so we try and warn you
of the instability of your minds
of desires conjured from fantasies
to break the slavery
the labels the mind silently enforces
on you
we call to you to find inside
the light you fly from
we call in voices
broken by timeless repeating

Koww 
cor
alerting you to this curse
caw caw
wait for you to listen
to see
cor
to break free
so we call to you

yet deep in you is that urge to kill us
to kill that what you see in us 
your desperate need to hide from the dark within
can you not face it
are you still that primitive
to hurl the hate outward
to name our gatherings as murder
rather than to look within
can you not call back to me
can you join as one
to speak in the language of yearning
the language of warning
language conjured from a knowing
Koww