Michael Veremans Poems

I was a boy made of iron,
Standing lone on a starry hill
Watching a night city
Of diamonds and gold
...

They were satisfied to hold a riot,
Gathering in their hundreds
To talk about their purpose
(For they were well versed
...

Every face of light
In the speeding grey night
Shows tear streaked porcelain
Watching the yellow butterflies
...

An airplane flew slowly across the horizon
And it looked like an angel, or a fiery wasp.
Its wings spread against the sky,
Towards the sea amidst columns of grey smoke.
...

It rained dramatically,
It rained like crying,
It rained from a blue sky
Striped with electricity.
...

When the heat plummeted
And the desert drew cold,
A lion weeded his way
With heaving, sinewy steps
...