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Poem


Doth it not thrill thee, Poet,
Dead and dust though thy art, 
To feel how I press thy singing 
Close to my heart? 

Dust to dust, ashes to ashes,
my poems recite my plight.
As two souls mix heart stashes,
inspired of mastery might.

A precept building ahead of time,
TS Eliot dubbed the dark poet.
Poems compare the heart and mind,
T. was fearful human concepts blow it.

Listen, I recite God’s prophet poet,
the waste land be the human mind.
Eliot recites death as concepts sow it.
Valley shadows death, human kind.

Branches, the parasites of human rubbish,
as Eliot compares God’s precept dovish.
Sorrow and blood slaughter is unleashed,
as  humans seek beasts’ minds for publish
               

The human shall not cease of beast,
mind-wilderness concept abominations,
until he return to origin of flourish east.
Hear wisdom of T’s dark connotations
               “TS near quotes
Of roots that clutch of which branches grow,
of its stony rubbish is only concepts of man.
Broken images of rubbish, cannot flow,
for of the red rock is the precept grand.
               “TS near quotes
The blood drained of the eternal red stone.
Fear is but a handful of flesh-turned dust.
Death shadow dust is swallowed of throne,
as the red stone shall bud of evergreen thrust.

For Dear Heart
And Contest The Passionate Reader
Welcome back Dear Heart

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