Mark Heathcote

Gold Star - 22,804 Points (22/03/66 / Manchester)

An Ocean Without Parameters - Poem by Mark Heathcote

What is this Eden they all talk of?
Who can recall that old proverb?
A bird in the hand,
Take these humble, beginnings

Isn't the throbbing of a breast?
A fire brand: the brocades, broach?
A flower, burning with; hot desire.
What could be more meaningful?

What is meaning? The meaning
Of eternity—
Without; time or place?
Like a musical-box, without music.

Or an ocean without parameters,
What is this driftwood, existence?
…Life without end: without death.
Without meter or rhyme!

Surely, heaven has no sustenance.
As subsidence, only creates gluttony.
‘It's endless, unquenchable, greed'.
Surely our appetites wouldn't exceed

Their entire confounded constraints.
And, then what non-mortal loathings
Would we be, in this Garden of Eden?
Dreamed; unpardonable, and yet free.

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Poem Submitted: Monday, April 1, 2013

Poem Edited: Monday, July 24, 2017

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