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you are all a lost generation -- Gertrude Stein ?

I

Once hallowed encephalon 
cavernous cerebral chasms
	now less serene 
		ruptured n' spleen
Subjected to ravenous days?
Days n' illumination?
n' summers hibernation?
Awaiting eschatology and Madonna's divination

In summers somnolent slumbers I was told
In dreams of all truths and history's scrolled
and what a fair delication to unfold
truth rings from the shell aft each reeling beak's descent
Forsake of the shell's salty fleshes derivment

A fleshy flower buds on the briar
To pluck and dissect or leave to admire

Death in creation
dreaming awakes, awakenings dream
In our waking weakness lies perfection
But, oh how sweet to dream  

Subjected to my piety in blinding ruth	
did I in dreaming sin for sooth?

Had Queen Mab or Archimago	
	twist my thrice twisted dreams
		with lies, abashing
and which in violence dance and beam
As waves with phosphorus' glow
they in guise clever crashing: gleam 
false sooth, in golden pools of indigo 
ever changing yet constant
As waves upon the shore
	singing
Sometimes soft and melancholy
Sometimes malice, as to destroy

Death in creation
dreaming awakes, awakenings dream
In our waking weakness lies perfection
But, oh how sweet to dream 
II

Oh my visage
how it pales in the light beside... 
	her 
		my madonna 
my oracle my day
Darkness in its defined fray
and I Amidst a Yeats' Byzantine nightmare 
to linger, to consist, to decay, an ill-stared heir
	a doxology,
		       pregnant with heterodoxy. 

Paling in comparison, in cavernous fright
days n' days and infinite blight
Static tremors. Intangible vibrations
	Winter
		Summer
			Solstice
Hibernation

To seek what lay beneath
the countenance of the Madonna
the purity
The past I prospectively reap
	n' seep
		n' sow
The city's concrete catacombs glow  
The future in night
day's abrasive
in its own right
reside in the day
confide in night
Rage, rage and endless blight 
in dreaming escape day n' days of 
a lifetimes endless death, in love 

Death in creation
dreaming awakes, awakenings dream
In our waking weakness lies perfection
But, oh how sweet to dream
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