David Levitas Poems

Angels we are,
Fallen in forgetfulness,
Of how desire conceived
Upon sweet smelling
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There is no rock, I know that now, to hold
Fast against the wrath of passion, the deep
Sweep of pity, the ravages of bold
Remourseless Time, where humanity reaps
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A mole I was, a rabbit, plumbing deep
The secrets of its underground warren,
Deep in the brown clayey soil of Croyden;
An old town, where a new one rose to leap,
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Because my imagination became real, I long for solidity
Diseased thoughts feeding on generous affections
Creating a hell of morbidity,
Pathological symptoms tuned on an over generous heart,
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Through others' eyes we are reflected, our image confirmed,
Through forms, institutions and the paper chase we know what we have learned,
And by means of persons otherness we feel of what we've sighed
Of how the whips and rankles on our limbs tell us what was truth, what lies.
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In hell we are, the judgement has been made,
Ourselvespropelling our lives to the grave,
Where we face our shadows, already laid
With the dust of centuries waste, the rave
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When we, on the balance, are put for sure,
Precariously placed, before Truth's door:
The throne, above, in celestial dew,
The waste-land, beneath, a cold greying hue;
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Oh, ye angels weep, where was your brave sword,
The foreknowledge you claim, to serve your Lord,
And with silken wings, fly swift to guide
The righteous soul, whose passions grit must ride
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Cruising on the first floor was just the start,
Ethics, Logic, Political Science;
Leviathan's faulty logic, at heart
A matter of the misanthropic part
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In bars, where all that living freely trips,
Baring the soul between the mouth and lips,
Washed with cream that to a head does wander,
Touching the soul with feelings, that fonder
...