Saturday, February 20, 2016
This all looks beautiful like roses in the morning,
My hands are around the place of sailors
Who address the waves of brilliancy and delight.
The ships sail according to the instructions,
According to his majestic mightiness,
Returning from America, from the land of dreams.
This is beauty, its manifolded designs, like the holes
Of the ship in transportation, and the ship of halls,
The ship of shapes, and the ship of sailors.
This was before the round circles around the mast,
Obvious aliens since happiness of ghosts, still sinning,
In the outer seas, fulfilling their haunting as ghosts of sin.
This is grace, this is the book, of the higher captains,
Of seafaring crew, genuine rockets of the weather,
Of seaward desires, and of the obvious aliens.
Topic(s) of this poem: sail,sea