Poetry by Jim Bellamy
THE PRAYER?
I know the site of that hidden mind
It is sidling and empty, a farcical bent
Sliding up the clock. I ride minds behind
The towers, the towering wheel and flowers
Dropped in a vase of the heroine's smile.
My hypnotic illusion is not cowed.
Aligning my head, the skies, the one
Bay of the evening chorus, above
The serviette of gears I make my single
Shimmering of hand into hand. The
Sun moves below the eye, a
Beautiful rivering
Of a beautiful consternation.
Resentful of the world, the underglassed
Tauntening of jade, the mind
Tightens its grip on the reprobate
And moves sloanes out to sea.
Most beautiful is the singlet, the
Wondrous land of films and spheres;
Next, the spider spinning
Its gossamer voyage of praise.
The eye is unperfected; lies
Days deep beneath the dial. I
Kiss my girl, yet here the sense
is no-one's, nobody's, vile.
Jim Bellamy was born in a storm in 1972. He studied hard and sat entrance exams for Oxford University. Jim has a fine frenzy for poetry and has written in excess of 22,000 poems. Jim adores the art of poetry. He lives for prosody.
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