Deus Misereatur

by on June 16, 2021 :: 0 comments

In the fall and crush of the wrecking wave
where the abandoned sailors, weeping
pray alone; deus misereatur

In the dimmest light of day descending
where the fumes of civilisation cut the
open wounds, deus misereatur

In the fall and shower of love upon
the head of the loved, who does not love
and cries, deus misereatur

In the fall of rain on the clay baked
in the mother’s calming womb: spits on her
daughter, deus misereatur

In the hunger of lust that comes unto
us, where the skin touching as the setting
sun bleeds its colours on the earth and the
moon breaks, as the lovers taste each other
in a dream in which neither is a part,
and in the bitterness of unanswered
echoes after near-sleeping, the lover’s soundless
plea, deus misereatur

When the voice has run hoarse like the wolves
howling, as the pain of living has ruined day
and night, deus misereatur

When the mother’s womb has spawned another ‘hero’,
and the son forsakes his child, the orphaned
world cries, deus misereatur

When another morning has come, and with the
cockerel cries a thread of grey storms, the clouds
forewarn, deus misereatur

When all the longing I have felt for you
has burned its roots and lays ash on my tongue,
I wail, deus misereatur

When the sky is black where hope is dream
in a land without night, and the creaking
world swells to bursting the scream of nothing
over the heads of the still living… In
the bed soaked in blood that has been bled
over you, by somnambulist dreamers
run into the chased caverns of night, of the nightmare
inside a nightmare hounding out the breath
of pity, closed… closing a clenched fist to love.

And alone in all the useless wanting;
among the toys of childhood, they are all
broken, deus misereatur

If the ending of laughter is the sound
of waking… I cut myself to bleed in
to your cracked dry lips; my blood
all that remains to me; an emptiness of failing words.

editors note:

Fail not so say, and wake – god have mercy! – mh clay

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