Time within a city Twelve midnight walking within this throbbing muscle of gothic grand architecture with modern seeming all that was great of minuets gone by, mixed with all that’s modernistic very minimalistic on this moments view now try’s to rest while club insomniacs only just start bounce off its walls in this otherwise resting fabric projecting its fleets of lustre out onto its river lit like the sunset that once never faded upon global tides three o’clock when dreams seep out from its walls statues and monuments sand tall aspiration manifested of long times past latent status saluted by the flow of Hackney carriages dressed in moaning black seeking their next fare back and the night busses pass in slow sleepwalk mode, the six AM call of reveille that brings this city from its rest bite comes with the greater movement of it red corpuscles weaving through it veins carrying oxidation of fusion with the many bridges starting to take the new mornings strain with the first light groans, rising is its obsession for consumption come buy me street market common chants in trading for their working sift near dealt along accompanying aroma of fish meat and fruit feeding beyond the city’s wants, cometh this hour that fabricate dreams that can come to harvest in the peek surge of nine the hive in full activity the imperial standard blows high in the low depression over London whilst sentries stand against pageantry’s railings of century’s of high protocol on today’s flag that wavers slight in this light breeze of highs peal of twelve vibrates from the mighty clock tower that stands for minutes to and minuets past the hour made and the making, influences echo slowly fading inference of decline under the home of peers, accompanying laws radiate around the air like rings from other tones of pay me from old bailey and the city calls back help me grow rich rings near to, across from Shoreditch whilst money feeds this gluttonies heart banqueters dine on wealthy plates of insulation coronary looks to call on the host along with colony yet optimisms sun is high above great noon city where clouds look patchy three in the afternoon the shadows filter through the tree line avenues in the acres of park land paths where love formed and trampled walks of gloomy loss just the many pieces of green takes away the harassing rates pace sixes call proclaiming not long for time honoured curtains up upon west ends aged old well trodden boards staged night after night with light to heavy roll play with conflict and celebration my journey nigh at nine pictured up on the London eye from near and far it beats gives and takes to die for to live with create from labour at entertain in love or hate see its story of old animate this city horizon with anticipating view await the twelfth new hour of this old town London town.
Posted on: Sat, 05 Oct 2013 11:01:48 +0000
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