Oliver Swain


Icarus - Poem by Oliver Swain

Rippling tense and bare
in fullness of youth
-the stuff of glory- he
scents higher fame, this
demi-god, Adam Icarus,
wings yet incomplete but nascent
he waxes on the swift silver needle,
irresistible, boiling his blood
as a lovers’ coupling
shoots veins of agitation.

the night’s toxin, a dark bewitching
gold bids him higher,
now outshining even our holy devotion
for metamorphosis: mind gleaming
seraphim and angel eternally,
the highest father, truest truth:
Icarus violates nature for freedom
and flies;

look, Daedalus, there is a dead child
fallen.

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, April 8, 2008



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