LIKE ruddy or tawny masses of torn flame, Over the whirlpool seething in agony Defiantly they flap and shake on high The electricity of life, that, ever the same, Fulminates in the city's pain and shame, And streams in smoke-clouds towards the ashen sky; A roaring chaos of wrath and mystery Fashioned to pleasure That-Which-Has-No Name: Banners on banners heavily everywhere, Soul-oriflammes of blood and hate and lust, Burst flickering through the abysms of the air. Leap, condors chained; it is our will; you must. And scream our tragedy even to those dim Veils of the dawn, where red stars flicker grim! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONG OF NATURE by RALPH WALDO EMERSON THE LAST LEAF by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES HERO AND LEANDER by CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE MAN, THE MAN-HUNTER by CARL SANDBURG TO ONE WHO ASKS by MARY REYNOLDS ALDIS THE LEAPING POLL by WILLIAM HERVEY ALLEN JR. |