Previous document

Next document

gri_2003_m_46_b04_f10_017

Transcribers

  1. 66705894 - Berhel
  2. WINNER - 66920396 - not-logged-in-a20a7f2dc244071c1db9
  3. 67855021 - Chris5420
  4. 68137349 - jbohning
  5. 68165589 - AuntieGaga
  6. 68182229 - Preacher357

66705894 - Berhel

How can the country thrive
(I pickled apples that had fallen down up
Warm orbs; cold dew. I hesitated)
When the Monarch's half-alive

Time its trellis that racks the Rose
The dual-coloured 16th century Rose

The price of bread rises higher than the corn
The mail is slower despite the profile (Regal edge)

What are ceremonies to the dropping
Though oracles echo in more boxes
What use are ceremonies
To the dropping the withered

How many years ago should he not have gone
Before these macabre whimsies in & around Westminster Abbey

What are the stains on the ribs of the House
The flapping clouds
The swelling in the pavement

Crown jewels are petrified explosions of light
And warm no one

(Sweet yawn roam softly)
The minister in laurel offers no
Conciliatory paradoxes.
Too slow to rise, much too slow,
Like brown autumn jelly, then- bone,
Like the collapsing Monarch, propped
On crutches of a throne.

The air which carries our yawns
Mist alphabets that melt
In the empty grove.

The wheel breaks
called Fortune
and it breaks
or sticks dead
In tweed
In kilt
Soldier in uniform
admiral or
Grandfather or symbol

the king on the fast wheel
is every character in a dance of death

OCTOBER 1951

WINNER - 66920396 - not-logged-in-a20a7f2dc244071c1db9

How can the country thrive
(I picked apples that had fallen down up
Warm orbs; cold dew. I hesitated)
When the Monarch's half-alive

Time is the trellis that racks the Rose
The dual-coloured 16th century Rose

The price of bread rises higher than the corn
The mail is slower despite the profile (Regal edge)

What are the ceremonies to the dropping
Though oracles echo in more boxes
What use are ceremonies
To the dropping the withered

How many years ago should he not have gone
Before these macabre whimsies in & around Westminster Abbey

What are the stains on the ribs of the House
The flapping clouds
The swelling in the pavement

Crown jewels are petrified explosions of light
And warm no one

(Sweet yawn roam softly)
The minister in laurel offers no
Conciliatory paradoxes.
Too slow to rise, much too slow,
Like brown autumn jelly, then - bone,
Like the collapsing Monarch, propped
On crutches of a throne.

The air which carries our yawns
Mist alphabets that melt
In the empty grove.

The wheel breaks
called Fortune
and it breaks
or sticks dead
In tweed
in kilt
Soldier in uniform
admir
al or
Grandfather symbol

the king on the fast wheel
is every character in a dance of death

OCTOBER 1951

67855021 - Chris5420

October 1951
How can the country thrive
(I picked apples that had fallen down up
Warm orbs; cold dew. I hesitated)
When the Monarch's half-alive

Time is the trellis that racks the Rose
The dual-coloured 16th century Rose

The price of bread rises higher than the corn
The mail is slower despite the profile (Regal edge)

What are ceremonies to the dropping
Though crackles echo in more boxes
What use are ceremonies
To the dropping the withered

How many years ago should he not have gone
Before these macabre whimsies in & around Westminster Abbey

What are the stains on the ribs of the House
The flapping clouds
The swelling in the pavement

Crown jewels are petrified explosions of light
And warm no one

(Sweet yawn roar softly)
The minister in laurel offers no
Conciliatory paradoxes.
Too slow to rise, much too slow,
Like brown autumn jelly, then - bone,
Like the collapsing Monarch, propped
On crutches of a throne.

The air which carries our yawns
Mist alphabets that melt
In the empty grove.

The wheel breaks
called Fortune
and it breaks
or sticks dead
In tweed
in kilt
Soldier in uniform
admire
abhor
Grandfather or symbol
the king on the fast wheel
is every character in a dance of death

68137349 - jbohning

How can the country thrive
(I picked apples that had fallen down up
Warm orbs; cold dew. I hesitated)
When the Monarch's half-alive

Time is the trellis that racks the Rose
The dual-coloured 16th century Rose
The price of bread rises higher than the corn
The mail is slower despite the profile (Regal edge)

What are ceremonies to the dropping
Though oracles echo in more boxes
What use are ceremonies
To the dropping the withered

How many years age should he not have gone
Before these macabre whimsies in & around Westminster Abbey

What are the stains on the ribs of the House
The flapping clouds
The swelling in the pavement

Crown jewels are petrified explosions of light
And warm no one

(Sweet yawn roam softly)
The minister in laurel offers no
Conciliatory paradoxes.
Too slow to rise, much too slow,
Like brown autumn jelly, then - bone,
Like the collapsing Monarch, propped
On crutches of a throne.

The air which carries our yawns
Mist alphabets that melt
In the empty grove.

The wheel breaks
called Fortune
and it breaks
or sticks dead


In tweed
in kilt
Soldier in uniform
admir
al or

Grandfather symbol

the kind on the fast wheel
is every character in a dance of death

OCTOBER 1951

68165589 - AuntieGaga

How can the country thrive
(1 picked apples that had fallen down up
Warm orbs; cold dew. I hesitated
When the Monarch's half-alive

Time is the trellis that racks the Rose
The dual-coloured 16th century Rose

The price of bread rises higher than the corn
The mail is slower despite the profile (Regal edge)

What are ceremonies to the dropping
Though oracles echo in more boxes
What use are ceremonies
To the dropping the withered

How many years ago should he not have gone
Before these macabre whimsies in and around Westminster Abbey

What are the stains on the ribs of the House
The flapping clouds
The swelling in the pavement

Crown jewels are petrified explosions of light
And warm no one

(Sweet yawn roam softly)
The minister in laurel offers no
Conciliatory paradoxes.
Too slow to rise, much too slow,
Like brown autumn jelly, then - bone.
Like the collapsing Monarch, propped
On crutches of a throne.

The air which carries our yawns
Mist alphabets that melt
In the empty grove.
The wheel breaks
called Fortune
and it breaks or sticks dead
In tweed
in kilt
Soldier in uniform

after
Grandfather symbol

the king on the fast wheel
is every character in a dance of death

October 1951

68182229 - Preacher357

How can the country thrive
(I picked apples that had fallen down up
Warm orbs; cold dew. I hesitated)
When the Monarch's half-alive

Time is the trellis that racks the Rose
The dual-coloured 16th centurey Rose

The price of bread rises higher than the corn
The mail is slower despite the profile (Regal edge)

What are ceremonies to the dropping
Though oracles echo in more boxes
What use are ceremonies
To the dropping the withered

How many years ago should he not have gone
Before these macabre whimsies in & around Westminster Abbey

What are the stains on the ribs of the House
The flapping clouds
The swelling in the pavement

Crown jewels are petrified explosions of light
And warm no one

(Sweet yawn roam softly)
The minister in laurel offers no
Conciliatory paradoxes.
Too slow to rise, much too slow
Like brown autumn jelly, then - bone,
Like the collapsing Monarch, propped
On crutches of a throne.

The air which carries our yawns
Mist alphabets that melt
In the empty grove.

The whell breaks
called Fortune
and it breaks
or sticks dead
In tweed
in kilt
Soldier in uniform
admir
al or
Grandfather or symbol
the king on the fast wheel
is every character in a dance of death

October 1951


Previous document

Next document