Sunday, January 7, 2018
Let Beautiful Souls Sleep
Let the beautiful souls abide in the heavens,
Let them spend for the heavenly spirit and shapes.
Some will spit acid or flames, some will smell of musk
And strange fragrances of sudden delight and mystery.
So let them die in the night, or in their sleep, or in some
Spell so powerful and concentrated that water is in fury.
The body spreads its burden on other persons, who speak
And spy, describe and discover, and hasten and await.
The body itself believes in the heart of our hearts, so willed
By actuality, by the acts of our forefathers who spread their
Share of deeds, who spend out of treasure collected
In spare time, time so shadowed by calamities of the night.
The tools of the night are the taverns of the soul and sight,
Our place is sudden and bright, full of moons and stars,
Like the heavily burdened delights, and the forces of the right.
My scales are heavier on the right and then the left,
Yours oscillate and converge as well as diverge, forming a milky
Water that expands and decides, fearing nothing or nobody.
Topic(s) of this poem: beautiful,sleeping,souls