1. after the death of God
dread these chains no longer
for the grace has fallen!
and so many a land of poverty
pose them to submission,
sanction that mystical obscurity
of a former age
how rich a cluster of attitudes
now liable to feel baffled
once formidable, now shown the awful truth
what deadly terrors the stars now clasp
as immortal hands throw down their spears
but now the night divided for us
fading judgement of the lordly ones
who could once twist the sinews of thy heart
corollary collocations of devotion
what wings dare He now seize?
shall I aspire the fire?
or jostle against chaos?
now that first impulse is exstinguished
rid of those muttered statements
of cosmologised disguise…
Eternal reason be borne!
welcome some proper act and end,
new elaborations invited,
arrays of books, doctrines
which testify to a new profundity
dread I grasp this clean anvil?
Deny existence as cosmic drama?
that gloss, that human story must decay
now free to confess, arrogance unbounded
lost in some new shimmering light…
But the creator smiled once more
with even more ferocious strength
with the smile of daybreak
casting a light beyond question
a spirit that water’d heaven
so convincing of the divine spark
storming the depths of thine eyes…
that bore instincts revolutionary
welcome again to an age of paradox!
to an impregnable, divinely-ordered world
united by mortal bodies
still astonish’d and in tears…
only through some GOD do time and death
break down… rendered silent, invisible
2. child falling into language
lost in thy well of broken sentence
an infant sorrow imagines
its first experience of danger
the world in which he walked,
was transformed, bewildering,
lapping among lapsed souls
cursing the selfish father
chained in night
not here afore thy sight
these outward eyes the mind descries
absorb’d by vacant feelings
metaphors firmly this vision bestows
and vast temple are buried
beneath all these things
this universe within, struggling, striving
against its binding
weary of the gate of the tongue
denouncing the abstract commandments
before the plunge
i wander into the Ancient reality
and Call for fires
For heaps of smoking ruins in the night
For some splendour, some Glory!
For abrupt bursts of words!
my fears take slumber
eclipsing that cursed relation
Finally I see… the very life of things
Continue reading “the madman’s inkwell (poem constructed using William Burroughs’s cut-up technique)”