Meanwhile, Back At The Blue Mambo Diner
Another night filled with junkie shadows and Madonna tears
And raindrops leaving grimy finger streaks down window panes
Strobing neons stain the sidewalk like Jackson Pollack afterthoughts
Filled with mind tripping 'shrooms.
Somewhere in all this miasmic hellstrom is a greasy spoon moon
Shooting craps and lighting box crates and bolt holes
Traffic crawling on all fours coughing up unleaded fumes
Trundle cars rattle and hum overhead in this civic symphony.
Street angels flock in alleyways, heroin chic
One more night teetering in this boulevard of dreams
Laced with alcohol and laudanum
And laceworks of Jacob's ladder fire escapes.
I'm still mulling over the world damp through to the skin
My clothing clinging precariously to my a-frame torso
Guess some folk are just too plain dumb to get out of the rain
Count me as one the flock in that regard.
Shuttered shopfronts gaze down solemnly at the down-and-outers
Shuffling past with their shopping trolleys of other worldly goods and chattels
Past heaven-gated taxi stands and domino stacked skyscrapers.
Yellow cabs like pus scabs trawl for fares as beige folk wander aimlessly about
It's a world full of blank cartridges and misanthropes
Of megalomania and soap box oratorios
Proselytising and muttering personally to something or other god .
Maybe they do have a personal direct line, who knows!
And who knows who's right or wrong?
Who am I to judge, got my own angels to wrestle.
Another electro-plated moon reaches out
Pulling back tasselled curtains to expose a turgid sky
Above a city that can suck you dry
Leaving discarded husks and bodies drained of humanity.
Meanwhile back at the oasis that is the Blue Mambo
Sipping on a cup of Joe to caffeinate those blues
Too much emptiness can bury a soul
Among the desert wastes and roadside litter.
The city hums 12-bar blues to a rhapsody of life
Filled with promises of twilight assignations
And passages from a symphonic movement
To move a soul to silence and tears.
It's an emotional rollercoaster of love and tumours
Wistful and cancerous and unfulfilled endeavours
Leaving thrown away wrappings and sutures
And other hymnal psychoses.
Idiosyncratic fantasies now become clickbait
Losing substance and credibility
Until all that's left is cold coffee
And no room to grow encased in these four walls.
And raindrops leaving grimy finger streaks down window panes
Strobing neons stain the sidewalk like Jackson Pollack afterthoughts
Filled with mind tripping 'shrooms.
Somewhere in all this miasmic hellstrom is a greasy spoon moon
Shooting craps and lighting box crates and bolt holes
Traffic crawling on all fours coughing up unleaded fumes
Trundle cars rattle and hum overhead in this civic symphony.
Street angels flock in alleyways, heroin chic
One more night teetering in this boulevard of dreams
Laced with alcohol and laudanum
And laceworks of Jacob's ladder fire escapes.
I'm still mulling over the world damp through to the skin
My clothing clinging precariously to my a-frame torso
Guess some folk are just too plain dumb to get out of the rain
Count me as one the flock in that regard.
Shuttered shopfronts gaze down solemnly at the down-and-outers
Shuffling past with their shopping trolleys of other worldly goods and chattels
Past heaven-gated taxi stands and domino stacked skyscrapers.
Yellow cabs like pus scabs trawl for fares as beige folk wander aimlessly about
It's a world full of blank cartridges and misanthropes
Of megalomania and soap box oratorios
Proselytising and muttering personally to something or other god .
Maybe they do have a personal direct line, who knows!
And who knows who's right or wrong?
Who am I to judge, got my own angels to wrestle.
Another electro-plated moon reaches out
Pulling back tasselled curtains to expose a turgid sky
Above a city that can suck you dry
Leaving discarded husks and bodies drained of humanity.
Meanwhile back at the oasis that is the Blue Mambo
Sipping on a cup of Joe to caffeinate those blues
Too much emptiness can bury a soul
Among the desert wastes and roadside litter.
The city hums 12-bar blues to a rhapsody of life
Filled with promises of twilight assignations
And passages from a symphonic movement
To move a soul to silence and tears.
It's an emotional rollercoaster of love and tumours
Wistful and cancerous and unfulfilled endeavours
Leaving thrown away wrappings and sutures
And other hymnal psychoses.
Idiosyncratic fantasies now become clickbait
Losing substance and credibility
Until all that's left is cold coffee
And no room to grow encased in these four walls.
Prompts
Contest: Write a new poem about ANYTHING.
Word count 50-400 words
put word count in AN
swearing is allowed
nothing sexual or porn related
Word count: 336
Contest: Write a new poem about ANYTHING.
Word count 50-400 words
put word count in AN
swearing is allowed
nothing sexual or porn related
Word count: 336
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