One of My Favourites by Stan Rice

AESTHETIC THEORY

Contrive a poem out of ears

Tell it

so that it's petals unchocolate

like a brain in a jar.

Wax walnut melting with thought.

Make it a poem almost

lewdly knowledge

ooze, syrup from the punched trunk.

Make it snake up to the molecule whorey

and put it's mouth

atomic against the mouth of it's core.

Pull on it's stem

to expose it's foetus. Make it

have children with sleek ginger jaws.

Make the dogs moan when it passes,

let it out of it's jar.

Make it lie with our corpse, our chaos,

make it huge, evil, enemy of Death.

Put it on paper. Read it. Make surgery

it's sigh, and of such sting.

The Scorpions call it Jehovah & Who.

Make it now before you crap out,

Contrive it, sperm it, stroke it.

Make it efficient, make it fit,

make it more poem that poem-

can survive.

The Bloody Child

I was drained and battered,

Poor soul torn and shattered

As I stepped back to look

At the acidic world in front.

I gasped in awe,

At the beautifully coloured face

That sat staring back at me;

Showing me in the heart,

That colours can decieve the eye.

This time,the tramp that followed my mind

Looked into the swollen face,

And saw what he did not see before-

A child, stark and naked,

Drenched in wineline blood,

A never fading smile, that pressed

To kiss the jagged blade of a silver sword.

I stared in disbelief,

As the child without hesitation,

Plunged the sword within her heart,

Ripped it apart

And ate of it.

I screamed, ice-cold horror,

As i gripped myhead

And dropped to my knees.

I asked the child "Why?"

She grinned seductively,

And said drily,

"Because it is bitter, bitter my friend

And because it is my heart."

She then spat the colour blue,

And suddenly the rest was made blue.

Her eyes shedding blood tears,

Dropped to the ground in a mess of green.

I looked on aghast at what my world had become,

I thought cynically,

How could the face not decieve me?

The colours are too beautiful to resist.

So I look into the face,

And say in words that don't exist,

That i see the devil

Smiling up at me.