Maze
Stranger ; the slight neglect
of conversation has passed
as Tempest.
& the Desert is silent , and pure
For nothing thou will find but bones and dust.
Nor will a Lover be
by Reason then, d'ye think
fading as a lamp when all the
Oil is Spent.
While my Heart prays to send me
out of this Time bound in thy eyes
unclosed. Turning to a little
cold & worthless clay or
a Bright Stone, by this faith
I choose , to live and die. Blessed
by the moonshine green sour
ringlets making silence unless he has
found the Power to Prove mortal
ill prevails ; & there I shall
sit and surely All will be mine
as the dead captains
in their graves.
Their Vows their banks
thier infinite kisses found in
foaming pewter.
Thus to bewitch me
out of wasting snow & out
of thought ' s inferior sphere.
Shine ! Shine ! Shine !
w-/ one I had not hoped to read
as a drunken rose nor in glistening foil
blazing suddenly , A marvelous Horn
"Come Away!
Come Away!"
My heart into a trance
my soul to a hound
set as each Eye as they go by
so much for
extreme pain as two won , worn figures , talking
till a shade in Heaven clasped her ,
a shade and there she wept and sighed
full sore as I fled the ever colder heights
of Heaven ; a LaughingStock ...As
the soul would quicken to the core
of that Hard Heart in thee.
No matter what thy violet breath
then , wild w-/ fear lies stills. Listening
Motionless & still before Her Red Lips
that cannot kiss enough
as such stars as her eyes
alight in the guilty world no more
amid barbwire meadows. The Night
is full of silver straws of rain even now following
all among The Waves , Fears & sufferings
moving in the limpid night ,
my own firm earth ; Vast perogative as far as Jove
gathers unto it all the coloured
days telling of definition
breakinf agony clear her
cold bones struggle limply clear, fighting
against the rain , fearful , as I hear You
Rasping for breath in your sweet divided
throat torn and bloody . Suckig out
the sweet Venom , dark, in my veins
. As a dainty fever skips o'er blue hills
thriving on the abuse of a solitary city , Light less
in the maze burying a faded fire.
Noting wings and often am
I blamed living in the alley.
Again reading the evening prayers
uttering words of kind ; driven out
& throwing away glimpses that could make
me less forlorn in these cold years
devoid of glow . Left Now weighing salt , coffee
and the Souls of Men.
Copyright © George Stal | Year Posted 2011
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