Monday, November 4, 2013
Above all this world and the picture surrounding it,
A lovely message is to be known for the eternity;
As if the poets have inspired my brain and all who
Wear intelligence, the poetry has been a maimer
For all our lives and never never does it reign more than prose.
For prose is a beast that mutters in swinging jargon,
Betraying poetry by miles of bad weather and chief ache.
Above the world of writing there is a prayer
Or someone is praying too long and felling the trees
Found at the bottom of the Earth.
The clay we have employed to construct our souls
Further than the light, is far too mysterious and unique.
The substance leaks, and the substance is a weak energy
For the Almighty to speak about and employ
Like clay that resounds in the heavens.
The lovely message is conveyed by weight of force
That is full of saintly help and prophethood.
The world is full of us if we are the world in full,
Yet the words delivered by mouths of sudden health
Shall fulfil our thoughts for the entire universe.