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Shooting Stars Revisited (Poem)

Shooting stars betrayed by their gravity
The sun can’t heal man’s need for vanity
Mansions filled with regret into eternity
Birds soaring too high on the wings of the breeze
In everything lost, something forever gained
But no-one feels empty
While they’re sure that something remains

In the garden of love the thin man pays a heavy price
To steel himself from all he feels
The angel and the chimney sweep needing advice
Trade places in the marriage of heaven and hell
Aged ignorance passes by the gates of paradise
And by me, weary, not sleeping, no desire to keep
Deep inside the rain holding on without remains
Leaning on another’s sorrow until tomorrow
Kissing joy as it flies, no place to go to
Piercing my wounds, I can’t follow you
The tree of good and evil already felled

In the sudden darkness I looked into your eyes but I couldn’t see you
Still searching for secrets that you’ve fled and used
Falling through cracks, I know that you’re bound to fill
You’re fighting for everything and nothing against your will
I continue to search for children missing who you never will
The road of excess weathered by only the hearts of a few
It’s hard to believe they ever had more than enough without you

Inside the degenerate city of angels
The falling man is seen to not whimper and cry
And every flower and sparrow must fall
But you won’t compromise
You just sit around stranded like furniture
And take what you want
The tighrope walker’s hands are tied
He ain’t got nothing for you
That you ain’t already got
The towncrier stood firm, to float a broom
He told you where in the forest the trees fall
But that don’t mean that you’re wise
You can even face the truth
No-one here believes those lies

Dressed in purple on Holy Thursday
The sisters of mercy rose here and retired
The interpreter came by for their clothes
But left with only visions of sin
And the name of the rose
Their songs of innocence left to the vapor
Country gentlemen pull weeds down deep in the mire
Where love and imagination are still hurting
White has taken all the pieces of black
And little boy and little girl lost
No kings they can’t manipulate to catch

There’s nothing unseen and no wasting time
Innocence recaptured in Jersusalem
The Daughters of Albion and Blind Willie McTell
Bled through the narrow corridors of pain
And the faint shadows, down the ruins of time
But why do you start moving just to come back?
There’s no scenery to stand for, nothing you lack
In the house of the dead there are no cracks
In the house of the mourning there’s no heart attacks
I guess that the wind couldn’t help but throw you
In between barren forces that somehow seemed new
On the perilous path only the serpent ever fell

The last supper had to be postponed
The poor immigrant couldn’t be left alone
The city on the hill seems surrounded by a lake of fire
Salt crushed down fine in the crucible of desire
Eternity’s in love with the productions of time
The sun is still shining and it always will
There’s as much need for water as there is for wine
But when seen from behind things fall apart
Existing for a moment that you need to forget
You and you only without any fear of regret

The emptiness endless and the heavens wide open
I lay here awake when I’m eventually sleeping
Noticing more and more shooting stars
But I just think of you
Someone, something, I wish that I never knew
I’d give anything now to just be with you
I know that there never was and is nothing new
But you crossed the line that you yourself drew
I’ll keep washing and breaking rocks that have strayed
Left to exist outside the invisible stones of the law
But you have it your way, I still haven’t a clue

Shooting Stars Revisited (Poem)

hudson

Kingston Heights, New Zealand

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poem poetry

Artwork Comments

  • Lisa  Jewell
  • hudson
  • hudson
  • hudson
  • Lisa  Jewell
  • hudson
  • hudson
  • Lisa  Jewell
  • hudson
  • Lisa  Jewell
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