*

"Ye blessèd creatures, I have heard the call
Ye to each other make; I see
The heavens laugh with you in your jubilee;
My heart is at your festival,
My head hath its coronal,
The fulness of your bliss, I feel—I feel it all.
O evil day! if I were sullen
While Earth herself is adorning,
This sweet May-morning,
And the children are culling
On every side,
In a thousand valleys far and wide,
Fresh flowers; while the sun shines warm,
And the babe leaps up on his mother's arm:—
I hear, I hear, with joy I hear!
—But there's a tree, of many, one,
A single field which I have look'd upon,
Both of them speak of something that is gone:
The pansy at my feet
Doth the same tale repeat:
Whither is fled the visionary gleam?
Where is it now, the glory and the dream?"

*William Wordsworth, from "Ode, Intimations on Immortality"

Posted by purplefly at 10:56 AM - No Comments Add a Comment (edit)




in edit


I

"Whither is fled the visionary gleam?
Where is it now, the glory and the dream?"

obscenely
hideously
denigrating
disenchantment
of the soul

spring it full
of dream
and
dread

the apple
fell
on the head
still
noone
saw it

disease spread
eat the germs
off my hand
a marble
rolls
slides
onto
the other side
and can't
help but miss
it's maker

sidestepped
shadowboxing
punchbag
darkness
ploy
foils
eats the hearts
of good men
deeds
gone
down

wrong
needs
righted
power
shed

and who has all the money anyway?

let loose
the power
the golden spoon
rotting
the
cashmere
egg

woman crying
out
in her
lost tunnel
sealed
her fate
at a young age

she died
a soul
overspoke
and took control
the power
in God's
cupped hand, mother

don't you see
what some of us know
this truth
she sees
on bus stops
crowded
crying
crack holes
hooker row
a convent
a tiny nun
with a shed of light

there is hope
in the eternal now

the present
has long been passed
to the glass torch
bound
mighty fountain
surround
a hell party
sin galore
into
what
someone
waited in hell
for

this human suffering
so demanding
of my heart
attaches
all my sentiments
enwraps
the time
that is not
mine
anymore



Posted by purplefly at 10:55 AM - No Comments Add a Comment (edit)




in edit


II

a pathetic
pitiful despair
a ring
of calm
in the night air

the party
going down
with the last tree
that befell history
written by the sage
hauled away
taken
done

take your pill
cure your ill
die in good faith filled vanity

dynamite
in
a minute
napsack
no dispute
holding
on for
the long ride
wrapped
around
the sky
a million times
over

I have
no more time
God
reckons
with mine

a slow burn
an airport urn
where
no ash
can ever
rise

the pheonix has died

Walt, William,
What thou now
that the visionary dream has died?

when no cry
can be heard
no smile
can be seen
from the hallowed
sounds
of in between
the death row
chains
rattle
in a silent
dream

marching
into
God's
green pastures
sullen
sultry
slow
sun
die
into
the last nose dive
into
the far place
that devoured
deflowered
the
innocent
flower

the daisy
never asked
was picked
as prey
a pretty face
a facade
the purple parade
in full metal jacket
bloom
boom
bunkers
under
the half lit moon

a war
without
a casket

a bomb shelter
in a burned out
ghetto sin
if it's halfway out
then it's always in

don't push
to wear
the pin

mother
hail the mary
the Christ
is weary
walking
towards
the people

the purple crosses
have begin
to awash
their paint
with sin

mighty hour
a bit sour
my life
I don't deny
my right
to see
these truths

behold!
the lines
have been drawn

cross the swords!
the battle
over evil
has just begun!

fallen cities
new sidewalks
cannot heal
the cracks
of the lost soul
howling from hell
below
where
even
the rats
no longer go

unsow
the dirt
and
reap
the
history
that
eternity
has
already
weeped
for