Michael Buhagiar Poems
Rider On The Storm (Homage To Jim Morrison)
Adios to the lands and great house, Caballero,
A kiss for the Lady in White and your friends,
For you ride out to meet the wild Toronegro
Pounding the plain, and the world on you depends.
Now that sombre shape as the moon is dawning
Behind you is not yet horned with sails,
And a blade through the neck will dropp him, fawning,
In a test which your fool on his ass ever fails.
Though the bull should blast into stormswept hells
All knights, you shine even there, dimmed never.
For the bullet has not yet has culled the white horn
Nor the navy lowered ...
A hillock blisters the field of spread.
Black gold lies ready to yield its prize.
Zeus has sown his seed in this bed
And his son will soon astonish our eyes.
Rub it and listen! It begins to purr,
A genie slinks from his cloistered home,
A white snout first, then night of fur,
A nugget of truth from the formless loam.