Sunday, August 30, 2009

sighs of man, gasps of God

perfect saintly eye lids seal
the glorious electric convulsions
neurons like stars in this jar

to which is born our vantage

but to twist off the lid
and have some wild maelstrom
of fleeting energies sweeping, finally,

no trite lines, the sighs of man,
no! but to be the gasp of God

i am a lowly integer
intersecting--
the rhythmic nourishers
to the roots of
my flesh

the holy chords
the holy melody
the holy harmony
that will have me
wholy

i am outstretched senses
within the shackles of a weary heart
capable of knowing all that is but
brimming with what could be

i am some glazed eye pander
to a gallivant sway of maddening forces
that i only want to reach their tremendous reckoning
and leave me to everything.

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