The Polaroid Art of Destiny Deacon
Dolly Eyes
Still breathing
Living still
From oceans deep
an immortal spill
The waters testing
in the fullness of time
What’s in your heart?
Who’s on your mind?
Having received
the Love Memorandum
from Planet Freedom
Regarding that love
that doesn’t change
in the wildest of weather
and through all that’s strange
Of love forged
in the fires of forever
Love that gives meaning
and substance
to this existence
A love that never fails
like the latter rains
of a summer harvest
Like links in a chain
I was strung out
somewhere between
those merry little elves
reaching for the light
and the servants of pain
dwelling in the dark
Having spent
a lifetime bent
circling the extreme
of an astral plain
within a fevered brain
headed down the drain
The ecstasy
and the insanity
Yet the message was sent
Called by name . . .
“Be wholly sane!
And man …
don’t forget to repent!
You’ll never be the same.”
The local bespoke crematorium,
and pottery kiln, under restoration.
Where I hope, one day, to be smoked
and then placed in an urn of clay.
Michael Le Multiple may think
that’s an idea magnificent.
Upon the foothills of time
this mere mortal coil
one day will cease to unwind.
So, I say . . . Burn baby, burn🔥😎
On the banks of the Thames
beyond the doors of the Tate
glimpsed through the haze
of a London heatwave
the Post-Modernist of Fate
Painting it all black
whilst trying hard to forget
bitter brushstrokes of regret