The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling.
Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven,
And as imagination bodies forth
The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen
Turns them to shapes, and gives airy nothing
A local habitation and a name.

-W.Shakespeare

Tuesday 7 August 2012

We Are But Spirits


Spirits for the night
Sitting round the table,
Looking back at us through 
The eye of tempered glass...

Spirits, we kiss to our lips.
Consuming you and I.
A shot of no control.
New faces for the show...

........................................

Spirits that lift us all
Just high enough to fall.
There goes evil Rory, 
In the morning he’ll say "Sorry."

Oh sensitive Mitch
Has gone and called someone a “Bitch!” 
But then there’s Matt
Who’s found a girl willing to "chat."

Somewhere is Vince
Drinking like a "prince."
But for now Alex
Won't quit talking about "phallics."

Of course there’s no harm 
In a little spiritual charm. 
We are but spirits 
Consumed for the nights.

No comments:

Post a Comment