Remember.
Remember
Poetry is the blood of your visions
It rips you apart against
The torrid consolidations of mundane
Strengths elongated in the retinues
Sparked for uncertain verses in trials.
It wants huge skies to fly
It wants ruined castles for your dreams
Vast open spaces for its habitations
Wilder faces and unknown stipends
And the spirit of beauty for
Its hearty congealments.
Open up the worlds for incantations
The barbarous that do not hold
Shipwrecks of your flesh
Sinking downwards
Pleads of the familiar
In an unfamiliar word
Silenced petals and anguished flowers.
It flies to faraway lands
It reaches molten cores of earth
It dances on raindrops of hope
It talks with dry ghosts
In the scorched summers
It accepts the cindered fragments
Forms frolicking in the liquid sea
Or shadows dipped in nothingness.
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