Longlisted Poem 2014

Marcus Marino

Torquay Boys’ Grammar School, Devon

The Human Chronicle

In every fire, there is a silver thread,
It rests on every coffin
And crowns every triumph.
The hands of the Gods pluck them to the clouds,
Where they are woven into legend.

This carpet of human chronicles
Sets the single silver thread
So low in the southern corner.
Where, twisted through infinity
You wonder…
A set of shining scales?
A hangman’s scarf?
An anchor dragging,
So mournfully?
Or a single star buried in an endless vigil through the night sky?

Such a sad song,
That the tapestry should fade to the edge of reason,
Becoming so fluid
That it should seep in waves through keyholes
And on to the crier’s tongue.
Such a sad song,
Bringing tears to cheeks,
As one more column stings the midnight slumber.

So Good absconds in awe of Sin.

O pity the Gods
Who have given it most terrible conscience,
Where the living black lines daily
Tear empires down,
And touch the other side of the world.

The silver thread,
A fleeting memory recoiling through the recesses of the mind.
Perhaps.
Yet it will grow again,
Swelling through the soul
Binding the bone and forcing the fingers
To find one more story, to satisfy the lust
Of finding most precious truth and dreams
Within those thin silver seams.

But then you watch the chip paper, swirling on the street corner,
And you remember yesterday,
And smile,
And forget again.
© Marcus Marino

Project Details

  • Date February 10, 2015
  • Tags 2014 News - Longlisted Poems