Turning out time (Early Morning)
Vibrant panorama of cloud inviolate
The seagull stride on cables immaculate
Turns curveship into vaulting flight, tilting
From parapets, to pivot over Atlantic chill
Of sea, piers, harbour, bay and sky
Descend to streets fiery on one side
In dawn’s grave light acetylene flashing
Liberty dreaming, pariah of proud god,
Stricken romance, virtue to the eye
Past virgins in their gowns, boho and sly
Condensed from hard-time cellar rooms
White arms descend by seams of dress
Past silver lace to inscribed rings
Or pornographic prophets glamour
With no nuance, choiring shrill sleights
At slaves of style in shirt and jeans
Cheap, capsulated, below contempt
To skim the subway and the street
Hastened to elevators, towers,
Temples and loft, longing for sleep.
This piece is overblown, but there are some ideas which I am likely to use in future poems. I particularly like the notion of an acetylene dawn. I had not thought of the bohemian nature of the poetry night-life “scene” before using these restrictions even though many of the readings I attend or take a part are boho in part.
This exercise has not been easy, but nevertheless, has created some new ideas and concepts for consideration.