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Indulgence

In the time of my indulgence
You look after and before
With the inclination of
Doctor Jekyll and Mr Hyde
As the wind whispers to you
Nowhere else to confide
You sell sea shells
By the Dead Sea shore
Chased by the Caspian sea
And the chill of the sun
While the waves
Of frequent mutiny crews
Are executed instantly
Like heart-attack hairs
Of unspeakable family feuds
Fish fingered, not wanting anymore

I gaze into confessions
Of the wild flowers
Fighting in the night
I see every leaf that’s falling
And Ruth amongst the yellow
Alien delight
Love reflected in the faded mirror
Of events rearranged
That must be broken in
To each exponential mistake
Forgotten by Delilah’s
Reappearing face
Choked by the envelope
Of reconstituted despair
Eyes tied up at both ends
Without superstitious fear
Stolen by the weeds
Of every newborn need
Simply to defend
Whatever the fishermen did hear

The sad eyed prophet
Though not superstitious
To lack direction more
Travels a jealous journey
Of unnumbered stairs
Standing at laughter’s door
With your thieves
Just hanging around
Arguing politics
But barely on parol
Hearing but not listening to
The rushes of vespering coals
Too proud to remember
ln harvest time or fall
That salt and servants
Cannot prostitute
What the jews have not sold
And that which time
Was not required to unfold

Indulgence

hudson

Kingston Heights, New Zealand

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poem poetry

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