The Fall

 

I see faces of old songs

that float inside my head

surfacing from that subconscious place

over which I have no control

Musical notes pass before my eyes

everything black and white

like a Felix the Cat animation…

 

I am now so used to solitude

loneliness has finally left me…

This haunting dark lake

so still tonight – tranquil

reflecting my inner being…

 

A brief moment of contentment

before the madness seeps in

like molasses being slowly poured

over ill-fitting floorboards

inside the log cabin

which was once my home

 

Migrating geese fly overhead

as if to the moon

which shines eerily through

haunting evening mist

its searchlight beams

penetrating my soul’s dark, hidden depths…

Where it remains forever Autumn…

 

 

M.C. Bolton, November 2019

Photo by TC

The “natural” occurrence of cyanide in the fruitcake shop

All it took for the masses to fall is

The relatable context one seems to run for in this vast world

 

It was the trap of the simple

They were innocent and soft like a newborn lamb for slaughter

They were taught how to please and be attention seekers

As they began an alchemy quest for their rulers’ ultimate befriendment

 

They were played

They were caught

And they fought and fought for survival

 

It was for loyalty; based on a fib because as feeble lies

Land on weak backs it soon brings attention to the young lambs

Who once sat among Jesus

 

As I tell you the ultimate goal will never end as there is no pleasure in the dead.

 

Photo from here

By Indiana Hippie Star Bolton, aged 14

Remissio

Virtue signal me

with your Colgate smile

microscopic minds

seem to be in style

 

Scrutinise my every word

written or spoken how absurd!

I don’t care or share

your BBC bias…

 

For I know deep down

all men are liars

skeletons hang in all of our closets

thoughts, deeds – shameful acts

that is the truth

those are the facts…

 

Hiding under your cloak of hypocricy

as you mount your attack

diversity your mantra

faux concern expressed

to those of minority faith, colour, culture

just pawns in your game

building your deluded Utopia…

 

See me as an embarrassment

maybe I am – offending your conscience

ruining your plans

despisingly you stare straight in my face

not knowing my children – all whom mixed race

 

But that wouldn’t compute

could never be right

I must be an Islamohobic racist

cos I’m working class white!

 

I’m not concerned about Brexit

leave or remain

for you it will change

for me stay the same

 

Just trying to be a man

dealing daily with his pain

living a quiet life

never making the news

with an open mind n’ independent views

 

Sure I’ve said things in anger

in moments of rage

things I regret – but wisdom comes with age

 

Do my best to live this side of the law

but the odds are stacked – I’m nobody’s fool

still try to show kindness to everyone I meet

I’m just that old guy who lives down your street

It’s not that I’m slow – just everything so fast

living by old school values I learned in the past

 

Yet I know a world without forgiveness

a world without grace

will be ruled by men

who feel no guilt or shame

 

So my SJW woke friend

take a deep look within

throw that first stone

if yourself without sin….

 

© M.C. Bolton October 2019

Lost

On visiting my heart’s darkest places

finding a small boy

slowly walking through its damp caves of solitude

loquacious dripping tears

like Morse code esperanto

 

Tapping in desperation upon granite

trailing behind this pitiful creature

forever a prisoner in this stone maze

Masks of my many false selves

hewn out of this cold rock

staring like Easter Island heads

deep into my soul…

 

Turmoil, torment – my long lost companions

reminding me of alcohol, drug fuelled evenings

nights of lust masquerading as love

my sober morning conscience

washed away by another drink

before my deluded state exposed

 

‘Why do you wander?’

that is my destiny

never to rest, eat, sleep

until I find what it is I seek

 

Reason-meaning devoid of my quest!

‘tell me your name’ I begged

reaching out his hand

whispering softly like God to Elijah

‘I am you

‘My name is Fear….’

 

Lost

© M.C. Bolton September 2019, 

Drawing by @tomhcharles

 

Recherché

1dec7487-eb10-4f39-9db9-4a51b588b76e

 

I sit amongst my dreams

in the graveyard of my mind

like Legion – no chains can bind me

Tormented by my failings

as a father – as a man

a husband, lover, friend…

walking with the dead

into the mist

leaving society…

 

Pacing slowly towards eternal insanity

chanting in unison

sharing candlelit pitiful piety

with aged knights

wearing armour

that has rusted into futility

stopping neither arrow nor sword

my heart pierced by steel

no crown of thorns

as I cling to the cross

thirsty for my saviour’s blood…

 

Forever carrying the splinters, the scars

of infinite salvation

offered freely – yet costing all

morality of the highest order

expected – demanded

countered by universal grace

judgement defeated – vanquished

 

My feet bleeding

from walking on flint

knowing like Joab

I will be struck down

clinging to the altar of the Lord…

 

 

by M.C. Bolton, August 2019,

photo of Bole Hill Quarry, Peak District by OG

Phantasmagoria

I saw paradise in her eyes

Eden before the fall

free of snake or thorn

innocence recaptured

through such beauty

 

I stare at her shadow

which slowly overwhelms my soul

any feeble pretence

swept away by truth

 

All too much for one man’s heart

rose of Sharon – lilly of the valley

adorned in jewels

feet of gold

words formless – eluding me…

 

Like that brief silence

in no man’s land

when barrages ceased

before whistles blown

then over the top

to be felled by lead

drowned in mud

 

Ultimate transubstantiation

pitiful cries to God – for Mother

paradise eyes returns

slowly dropping daisies

into my dreams

pulchritudinous – Stendhal syndromatic!

 

My Rosebud – snow globe breaker

I am confused, lost, floating

in a sea of idealistic isolation

clinging only to the

eternal lifebelt of hope….

 

 

© MC Bolton, June 2019

 

 

globe

Acid Rain

Untitled_Artwork

 

What is my reality?

life’s music taking me further away

from what I see – understand

maybe think I know!

I stand amongst

the ruins of civilization

flames all around

time has ceased

forever trapped in this dystopian nightmare

never to die or sleep

 

Yet somehow I have found contentment

peace within myself

accepting my lot

grateful for what I have

not envious of the material rich

their path – never mine

Perhaps once for a time?

 

Acid rain now melting my face

like a waxwork

destroyed by thermite

laughing inwardly

as I become one with the soil

to be moulded again

by God’s hand

into the man

I should have been….

 

© MC Bolton, June 2019

Art © OGCZ 2019