On Time
Fly, envious Time, till thou
run out thy race,
Call on the lazy leaden-stepping
hours,
Whose speed is but the heavy
plummet's pace;
And glut thyself with what thy
womb devours,
Which is no more than what is
false and vain,
And merely mortal dross;
So little is our loss,
So little is thy gain.
For when as each thing bad thou
hast entombed,
And last of all thy greedy self
consumed,
Then long Eternicy shall greet
our bliss
With an individual kiss;
And joy shall overtake us as
a flood,
When everything that is sincerely
good
And perfectly divine,
With Truth, and Peace, and Love
shall ever shine
About the supreme throne
Of him, to whose happy-making
sight alone
When once our heavenly-guided
soul shall climb,
Then all this earthy grossness
quit,
Attired with stars, we shall
for ever sit,
Triumphing over Death, and Chance,
and thee, O
Time.
There
There, in that other
world, what waits for me ?
What shall I find after
that other birth ?
No stormy, tossing, foaming,
smiling sea,
But a new earth.
No sun to mark the changing
of the days,
No slow, soft falling of the
alternate night,
No moon, no star, no light
upon my ways,
Only the Light.
No gray cathedral, wide and
wondrous fair,
That I may tread where alI
my fathers trod.
Nay, nay, my soul, no house
of God is there,
But only God.
Fever 103º
Pure? What does it mean?
The tongues of hell
Are dull, dull as the triple
Tongues of dull, fat Cerberus
Who wheezes at the gate. Incapable
Of licking clean
The aguey tendon, the sin, the
sin.
The tinder cries.
The indelible smell
Of a snuffed candle!
Love, love, the low smokes roll
From me like Isadora's scarves,
I'm in a fright
One scarf will catch and anchor
in the wheel.
Such yellow sullen smokes
Make their own element. They
will not rise,
But trundle round the globe
Choking the aged and the meek,
The weak
Hothouse baby in its crib,
The ghastly orchid
Hanging its hanging garden in
the air,
Devilish leopard!
Radiation tumed it white
And killed it in an hour.
Greasing the bodies of adulterers
Like Hiroshima ash and eating
in.
The sin. The sin.
Darling, all night
I have been flickering, off,
on, off, on.
The sheets grow heavy as a lecher's
kiss.
Three days. Three nights.
Lemon water, chicken
Water, water make me retch.
I am too pure for you or anyone.
Your body
Hurts me as the world hurts God.
I am a lantern -
My head a moon
Of Japanese paper, my gold beaten
skin
Infinitely delicate and infinitely
expensive.
Does not my heat astound you.
And my light.
All by myself 1 am a huge camellia
Glowing and coming and going,
flush on flush.
think I am going up,
I think I may rise -
The beads of hot metal fly, and
I, love, I
Am a pure acetylene
Virgin
Attended by roses,
By kisses, by cherubim,
By whatever these pink things
mean.
Not you, nor him
Not him, nor him
(My selves dissolving, old whore
petticoats) -
To Paradise.
Click the angels
to go back
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