That nothing intercept the burning of our fates, as sweet as an orchard may we stand in the nude tiger-eyed rather than be provided an umbrella from the sun, piercing the deaf-to-a-thousand-stories the day after a war, a cold-stopping chill in the heart of a people. Let us board up like a hundred windows giving onto hell the material body of our message, the joy in true contact with things, merciful things, the very bonds of an idiot society, and stand on our last pivot, a magnificent move, a steady, untoward mountain of a move, and speak in a straightforward manner with the least important least visited, raped, riddled speech in nature, no, not from your balcony, not outside your door or within, but to death's own homesickness speak with our eyes down on the sex of our loved one no one's name, let no one out of clay and earth grieve rain's rainbow, love, alone, yet say the face through the back of the head, the front of a unicorn from behind, horsing, shining - ... | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...OVER THE ROSE-LEAVES, UNDER THE ROSE by JOHN BENNETT (1865-1956) PSALM 114 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE PROLOGUE. INTENDED FOR A DRAMATIC PIECE OF KING EDWARD THE FOURTH by WILLIAM BLAKE THE PAGODA by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN THE LORD'S MASQUE: THE STARS DANCE; SONG by THOMAS CAMPION TEMPEST-TOST by GEORGE HERBERT CLARKE THE WANDERINGS OF CAIN by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE |