Eyes to the sky but noses ground down
Right coming up soon another year 2020
Visibility is poor it’s not getting any clearer
Skies are overcast the deluge is approaching
The water is rising temperature climbing
We can dream of a Third Summer of Love
But it will be just another Festival of Hate
Ah well fuck it anything to release energy
A force field of unruly total abandon
In time we will have to beat a hasty retreat
Escape and fortify the cave in the cliff-face
Welcome to my world girl you’re in my hut now
Grunt grunt a little louder I can’t hear you
Jump jump a little higher how low can you go
Down on your knees but please don’t pray
Though I would like to be in your thoughts
As much as you pollute my dreams phantasies
There is no salvation up above only submission
But we can strike on thru to the other side
Storm paradise and lay siege to pleasure
cakeordeathsite 
“But it will be just another Festival of Hate
Ah well fuck it anything to release energy”
– and –
“There is no salvation up above only submission
But we can strike on thru to the other side
Storm paradise and lay siege to pleasure”
….. this is powerful as hell and I love it
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Thank you Foxes, I was pretty much free associating here though hopefully it has some cohesion and something to say, no matter how ambivalent. I appreciate the praise!
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It’s a wonderful thought progression and I totally understood it. The pleasure is mine.
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Sensual double-entendres and free flow is very effective here, I like the way the poem challenges traditional sensual poetry, “strike through to the other side”. Wonderful free verse.
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Thank you Miss Heart, I am inordinately fond of double entendres and my mind does meander. Thank you for the lovely comment.
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It’s my pleasure. The painting by Max Ernst seems symbolic of paradise and I feel it is a perfect accompaniment for this poem.
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It does indeed though maybe a paradise of experience instead of innocence. A strange and beautiful painting, I just wish that I could hold a candle to Max Ernst!
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Unfortunately I’m not that familiar with Ernst work other than what I find Here at your blog but I find your writing second to none. Enjoyed Mr.Cake.
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Ernst’s world is strange yet beautiful. He sets the standard for dream painting, he goes deep into the strata of the subconscious. Thank you for the praise, you are too kind.
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Relevant and fantastical all at once. Love the energy of the poem and the shades of Blake striking thru to paradise. The Ernst painting does suit it perfectly. Such a wonderfully bizarre piece. You hold a candle to Max by association!
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Thank you Lily you are too kind, also for the Blake comparison. I do try to be fantastical but with one foot on the ground of actuality. Appreciate the comment as always.
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Anymore the lines between fantastical and actual are quite blurry so carry on. I do know how you love Blake, it’s sure to be an inspiration
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Blurry indeed and getting blurry. Yes I do love Blake, he saw things very clearly so people thought he was mad.
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So often the case…
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True but he held firm and stayed true to his vision while remaining an exceptional human being.
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Yes and happy loving and loved.
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Though he was disappointed when Catherine refused to allow another woman to join the household.
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Well that is asking a lot …
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He believed in freedom, but he didn’t press his claim because he loved Catherine.
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The tricky question of personal freedom and its consequences. If freedom doesn’t lead to happiness what’s the point, right? His making Catherine unhappy would have led to his own unhappiness and so on. But that’s another can of worms
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Well they sorted it out thankfully, it was just a stage I think.
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Forceful poem with its climax at the end.
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Thank you Sue I am glad you think so.
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I like the idea of striking through to pleasure. It works especially well the way you set it all up… not so pleasurable.
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Well I believe in a certain amount of tension otherwise it lacks that frisson. Thank you Resa.
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True!
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Indeed!
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