Saturday, 3 January 2009

The Taste of Things to Come

A bleak poem inspired by ee cummings

I thank you God for most this...
And my inner eye rests on all the waste of
What human happens in the world.
No need to spell it out - you know for sure -
Or can imagine what it is.

The leaping greenly spirits that express the yes are not enough today.
The blue true dream of sky is infinitely silent.
The confusion of the human race is more real and rises in my mind triumphant,
The malcontent and the maladjusted vent their psychosis unabated,
And the ill wind that blows no good, shows no mercy.
Its bitter icy air freezes and will not be stilled it seems.

Oh that the ears of my ears could be silent.
Oh that the eyes of my eyes could be darkened.
Oblivion is sweet and has a deeper knowing.
Drinking it in - the taste of things to come.

VH 2009

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