lost arts

once, down in the purple valley

where much wandering went on unmolested 

a moody man who made the beds

known as the mansion's swan

polite and taylored in a crisp burlap suit

well educated in train hopping

a white pillared mansion

greek architecture

thats the last real thing here 

inhabiting the residence was

a couple of ratty dogs

whimpering cowards humming along

hold hands on the sidewalks of marble

better be polished so slick

sliding young, forever young

like decayed reluctant lightning storms

that washed the coal dust off

face turned upwards to gabriel

as angels hung off the edge

and wore mushy diamonds roughly cut

jewelry glinted before the smell

perfume inhaled as venom

venom drunk as wine

scenes of sidewalk restaraunts

sunlight rays and coffee shops

where its too easy to get stoned

maybe not the narcotic way

and caught with 'mind blinders on'

dylan hedged out a grunt or two

a floating river like yesterday

today and tommorrow he gesticulates

master modes of redemption

where paths will fork abruptly

into the shapes of hexagons

like roses stuck in heroine veins

out into plains is great

as long as you are wearing tapping shoes

its why the horses flury will rest

wild horses

harrying worthless folk music moods

where tradition has no sound

haphazard lust has redemption

it is a lost art

magic skin tears

it a kind of dew that is slithering

hydrated yellow deserts

steamy red hot coals

that burn deep inside the earth

dreams being the core

memory is counted as a good bet in craps

but not in blackjack

too beautiful for ugly eyes

or vision

mundane methods

aint got no words

most people are terrified of the silence

this kind of fear

is a cold glass of milk and cookies

and a hardcore binge of violence

take a good look at

the next flowered meadow you see

and look at the next set of old eyes

inset on a young face

in the same way

these are not lost arts

 

copyright

jake thirsk

Reviews

[Clarisse Nanoit]

The last two lines just tie it all up! So cool. The poem seems to be a string of random-ish thoughts and then the last two lines just make the whole thing make sense. Super awesome. Made me read it twice. Love this piece. Very skillfully crafted.
KH