We painted flowers in graveyards,
and dreamed tectonically
We waded through the Dead Sea
while the Amaranths died
In the Garden of Asphrodel, where birds fall
we break the world and wait
until April burns into December
Here there there is a destination
of a thousand voyages, and a thousand autumns
to come and go in breathless thoughts
to drum and flow in memories
and thoughts of what we forgot
and what we long to let go of
In silver fog and dormant sleep, we examine
the wreckage of this convoluted evolution
with blind eyes and eyes that blind
the wicked, worse than the fate of stone
In the Valley of Bone
there is no end, only a fury
of times to undo in a hurry of haste
before the world is wasted
in wastelands of ash and tinder
before the well is dry and the Harvest
is broken by a future of frost
and a future the damned forgot
Unto the world, where the Valley
undid the skin and killed
the already dead men
who walked upon the bloody mire
in every dream and every desire
with old rot and old desires
heads filled
while sooted silt fills tilled mouths
until their soulless eyes gouged
and mouths foamed with all the world
and all the world was gone
and in the mire the wicked conspired
in dormancy and whispers of you and me
in a future we forgot
I called you Apple Child, and I was your
Albatross
naivaitena surabhi na durgandhi vijānāti
apahatapāpmā hy eṣaḥ
tena yad aśnāti yat pibati tenetarān prāṇān avati
etam u evāntato 'vittvotkrāmati
vyādadāty evāntata iti
Author notes
This is largely the beginning of a larger work.
naivaitena surabhi na durgandhi vijānāti
apahatapāpmā hy eṣaḥ
tena yad aśnāti yat pibati tenetarān prāṇān avati
etam u evāntato 'vittvotkrāmati
vyādadāty evāntata iti:
An excerpt from a Hindi Upanishad, translated as:
With this Prana in the mouth one discerns neither sweet smell nor foul, for it is free from sin. What one eats or drinks through this, even with that he maintains the other Pranas. And not finding this at the time of death, the Prana in the mouth and its dependants depart; and thus indeed one opens the mouth at the time of death.
A contest entry
- Your Best Prewrite 3 by Heavenly Angel.
475 points, ended December 12, 2007, 43 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
Awesomely written! Thank you so much for sharing and for being a part of the contest! I wish you the best of luck!!!
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Far beyond me.....
I know and can feel that this piece of work holds more that one will ever comprehend after one read through....I enjoyed it...and even more I had more fun trying to figure out what it meant to me.....It's a great peice of work, and I hope that some day...I will dream the words and they will teach and unteachable truth.
Excellent work.
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