The Wanderer
Kid A
"Ireland"
Irish Lady your silhouette burns a corona around my blistered eyes,
through which all of your Celtic seas are flooded by crimson tides
Under the falling lids of darkness
the corona does not fade -- but stings,
like the venom of an impious bee
Your Northern skies bleed under fear's sharp razor
and the stain has been cast -- drip by drip
hot blood forming pools of orange lava over the green earth
as melting passengers empty their intestines,
over our shivering hearts
-
note: this is a few years old, one of the first poems I ever wrote... actually, I think it's the 2nd one I ever wrote? anyway, point is it was inspired by Sunday Bloody Sunday... and I think it was Bono's lyrics that got me interested in writing poetry
so thanks Bono
Irish Lady your silhouette burns a corona around my blistered eyes,
through which all of your Celtic seas are flooded by crimson tides
Under the falling lids of darkness
the corona does not fade -- but stings,
like the venom of an impious bee
Your Northern skies bleed under fear's sharp razor
and the stain has been cast -- drip by drip
hot blood forming pools of orange lava over the green earth
as melting passengers empty their intestines,
over our shivering hearts
-
note: this is a few years old, one of the first poems I ever wrote... actually, I think it's the 2nd one I ever wrote? anyway, point is it was inspired by Sunday Bloody Sunday... and I think it was Bono's lyrics that got me interested in writing poetry
so thanks Bono