Poetry Magazines - The best collection of poetry magazines online - Simon Armitage

They’ve been haunted by ghosts of what they were,
Spirits of alt the years gone by.
They are the moulders of madness,
Kissed by darkness in disguise.
A time for sacrifice
A time for sacrifice
A time for blood on the sacred stone.
Dark patch on the soul
Dark patch on the soul
Wanderers of the twilight zone.

We sing out for sarcastic cobble stones
Stories of how a flower grows
They condemn us all as madmen -
Well, that’s the way the movie goes.
We are the lunatic fringe
We are the lunatic fringe
Skippy dancing on the sacred stone
Jokers in the maze
Jokers in the maze
Children of the twilight zone.
Somewhere a moon glimmers spectre-grey and a cat looks greenly in:
Mandarin eyes, mystic mysteries and a lotus in the wind.
You make your own movie and I’ll make mine.
Dealing with shadows in petrified time.
And a breath of stale insignificance can draw music from sick machines.
As it basks in the warm Infra-red light, the cat laps its chemical cream.

You’ve been keeping your mind in darkened rooms.
Living only for neon dreams.
When you’re striving for absolute zero,
Nothing’s really what it seems.
Wash the day away
Wash the day away
Wash the bloodstains from the sacred stone.
Head for overload
Head for overload
Meet me in the twilight zone.

The sax bluesing in the primal air, melancholy night again.
We’ve got to find some compromises - talk to each other again.
Walk in your own image and I’ll take a bow.
Just bring the attitude and I’ll show you how.
And I step in pools of my own sorrow, as I watch my lessons burn.
Knowledge gained from momentary mind-slips, I will gauge how much you learn.

We are windows to what is possible
Doors of Insight they despise.
Spinning lines in the shivering vortex,
Words - electric butterflies -
Throwing thoughts at you
Throwing thoughts at you
Throwing thoughts at the sacred stone.
Your truths can be found
Your peace can be found
Your love’s found in the twilight zone.