Kapoor has the rights to
the blackest black
the rest of us can whistle for it
whatever grinding paste we make
there will always be a glimmer
maybe he is right to keep it from us
the colour of no hope
an abyss
the apocalypse
this is as close as we can come
pitchy at the end of the road
a blackdrop to shine our torch upon
we are all going there
into the unknown when the lights go out
with no real way to paint ravens
we will be unaccompanied into the dark
Louise Hearman
that's no way to paint ravens
ReplyDeleteat night on the roadside
in the headlights
An amazing poem.
ReplyDeleteIt almost leaves me breathless.
ReplyDeletegreat stuff
ReplyDeleteStunning poem...
ReplyDeleteThis is tremendous. Such great lines including: into the unknown when the lights go out/with no real way to paint ravens
ReplyDeleteWonderful poem - fear-stirring!
ReplyDelete