Friday, February 14, 2014

i think incessantly of those

after Stephen Spender's poem:
“i think continually of those who were truly great who left the vivid air signed with their honour”

i think incessantly of those who were truly great
who left the vivid wind signed with their honour
because i am disconsolate about my life's mean history
i want to torture strength ascend invade the brave air
slay dragons fight wild beasts with my hands
unstain the world of its dishonour
instead i sink in the gutter of my need
and leave the unrecognizing stare empty of my gesture

i think continually of how i'd rather walk with those
astride like a colossus where little men peep between my knees
though i sense deceit the trickery of fate
the truly great become a mockery
when i measure stars which shine beyond their death
saying nothing bitterly
brilliantly signing the midnight air with their blue humour
and the bare rounds of earth's orbit
memorably assign the beating rhythm of the gravid seasons
citing no authorities or poets intent on glorification
or teachers of good rollicking reasons we incredulously perpetuate

i wear my honour like a mantle of cloud cover
rain and snow lower my brow and the frost steams from my breath
uphill work this desire to survive beyond life
descending to death without tragedy or comedy to humour my posterity
and i thank continually those who wrote across the atmosphere
with trails of glory in their honour
curving across the deep wide blue of who i am
with visions of what i might be
an awesome prospect if i could forget the might-be as a should
that draws a cloud over the bountiful sun

i wear my honour like a mantle of cloud cover
thinking continually of who i am this day
immeasurably greater for the beating bounty of my frosted breath
writing the bare round rhythm of this winter season with my white signature

mmxiv (edited: probably 1960's)

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