Blacklight Is The Light Of God… Poem by Mark Heathcote

Blacklight looks silver under a neon sign
Looks euphoric in a rainbow neon flame
What you feel is what it doesn't deliver.
Blacklight, it shivers, it lingers in your soul,
Serpentine, it'll snakes, like a wet tarmac road.

Blacklight is the light of God.
Descending fog sits around an unnamed gravestone.
Blacklight whets your appetite for additional light,
It whetstones sharpen your spirit to the bone,
Like ferns uncurling feelers in search of a loamy home.

Blacklight is the light of God.
'Blacklights' is the segregated part of dew falling anew.
It's the neon part of you. It's a neon flame
Joining the shivers of a river that which an ocean delivers.
Oh, have you reached your ascension, have you found your countenance
That sign of yourselves, that's the pontiff of your own, church.

Blacklight is the light of God.
Have you, smouldered felt your own, prayer waves?
Have you turned, turned your own, Himalayan prayer bells?
Clapped your hands clapped your tongues hammer loud.
Outdoors, today, tonight shine like fireflies in the blacklight
Within them, watercourses, within the stars
Oh, water courses through you in black starlight tonight.