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The Exorcism.
Contributed by
incognito_bombastus
on
Monday, 5th January 2009 @ 06:57:49 PM in AEST
Topic:
ambiguous
|
The Exorcism.
PROLOGUE.
To much of what I write is confessional,
It flows like a current, a stream
That descends as is the way of nature,
The way of all rivers.
All ideas,
All thoughts.
The way of all things
Lighter than air begin on high peaks.
On such high peaks I wrongly,
Proudly stayed,
Too long & light headed
I lost my way.
Divine/mad
On the ether of my own soul
Convinced of my own sublime position
I warmed. I melted.
This journey is one youve glided before.
Floated or drowned in.
As the snow melts she returns life
Giving to the land, the sky & the sea.
I prayed in my stupor that
I may return in friendship
To the truths I too long ignored
To much for granted took as mine alone.
This confession is no pledge
Never to return.
Its a deep desire to admit my wrong
To return home & to the tribe atone.
THE ARGUMENT.
I have always struggled with
A vocabulary inadequate to the tasks
I set myself to perform,
To try to say thing s beyond words,
Beyond love.
Thoughts without words
A law beyond gravity
Yet one that still weighs (even) now heavy upon me.
the word was made flesh
& the word was.
Nothing beyond words & love.
There silence is to understand &
Its surrender is compassion.
Then Silence for many years.
Stone silence.
Stone-
Mountain silence
Alone.
I dared the rock to crumble___.
I did.
I shall describe the errors
Of all my wiles & ways,
May I have the strength again to find the path.
Too strip naked the demons I adorned
With the vestige & vespers of angels & gods.
I shall be my sacrifice
I shall take down my false truths,
I shall embark upon my own redemption
Find my tongue & again shout like a fool from the rooves.
Again to start.
How dare I ?
I have sinned against you all
I feel I sin again to save myself now.
How have I sinned?
Blasphemed the idea
With the idolatry of the ideal.
Too proud at the invention of my own fortunes wheel.
How could I pursue only
That object of self- beauty
Hope to be its soul possessor
Kill all dreaming with consummation?
Enslave in a symbol
The search for all mankind greater than I.
Of all my prayers for harmony,
These whispers of calumny
Are beneath the discipline I desired.
To tie the strings of discord
Into gordians great knot.
This became my snare,
Master weaver to craft a web of stone.
A tomb.
I wished to be the keeper of the riddle
Not one of its singers.
What perversion!
What contempt!
Out of what love did it birth?
Only self.
What failure, dissolution, delusion !
What felled me in such hatred?
This testament
Shall be my exorcism,
Part penance
That may come my saviour.
THE RESOLUTION.
I shall be still again, ashamed.
At peace with my shame
I shall remember.
Remember, that when the word became flesh
I sweated for its truth;
& while the world became cold
I bled for my loss & for warmth
Burnt my youth.
Now again consumed by the mysteries
I failed to answer
Wordless I once more turn to the passions
I could not master.
To lay bare my neck to the mercy
Of hereafter & heed the prophecies,
Redeem the qualities
Of my too quick come disaster.
This is not my will,
Not will power
To much will be ugly again
Here after.
This ugliness I must burn from my bones,
Bleach upon cheap paper,
My memories
My album
My silence must have tongue
This trial shall restore my health
& in the time to come
Unite me with life again.
A mindless birth to systemise my senses (to power)
I shall walk again & search.
I shall learn & humbly teach
& If I with beauty sit I shall sit defenceless.
**Sit at the feet of music & listen.
Read on all mistakes,
Watch this world paint itself
In all perspectives I dont understand
Sing & only in my singing
Take my stand.
Remembering always
This weakness of man.**
Ill listen to my rest as peace
Sleep when I must to sustain the dream.
Then wake again & bathe in that stream &
Dance then, always like the fool & love always, as before.
I bring my love to lay at the feet of all,
Sacrifice offer to the service of this world.
Worship in the dream of manifold lights along a path of rubies,
Winding through tiny universes of perceiving diamonds.
the word was made flesh
& the word was.
Nothing! Beyond words & love.
There silence is to understand &
In surrender is compassion.
Sing the songs the birds taught
& Remember the lessons of lost battles fought.
Copyright ©
incognito_bombastus
... [
2009-01-05 18:57:49]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: The Exorcism.
(User Rating: 1 )
by elle on
Monday, 5th January 2009 @ 07:25:49 PM AEST
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Info | Send
a Message)
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| hmmmmm. . . might I say, I am impassioned by your verse but must take care to read again & shake from my mind the hypnotic lure so that I may realize the unknown depth, the totality of your hymn . . . peace. elle |
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Re: The Exorcism.
(User Rating: 1 )
by Voyager on
Friday, 29th November 2013 @ 01:13:11 PM AEST
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I have to say your poem has verses that are simply brilliant and rise to the height of poetic revelation (as in revealing deeper truths which is what Poetry's true office is). There are some spelling mistakes and the sections of the poem that are mundane (happens to the best poets) and prosaic but these can be overlooked considering how much you've revealed in those few lines, the heights you've touched while expressing this. Let me highlight these for you from what I saw (these lines I thought were exceptional):
'Divine/mad
On the ether of my own soul'
'Thoughts without words
A law beyond gravity
Yet one that still weighs (even) now heavy upon me.'
'Stone silence.
Stone-
Mountain silence
Alone.
I dared the rock to crumble___.
I did.'
And these lines were sublime!
'May I have the strength again to find the path.
To strip naked the demons I adorned
With the vestige & vespers of angels & gods.'
Here comes the Prophet:
'I wished to be the keeper of the riddle
Not one of it’s singers.'
The struggling aspirant:
'Remember, that when the word became flesh
I sweated for it’s truth;
& while the world became cold
I bled for my loss & for warmth
Burnt my youth.
Now again consumed by the mysteries
I failed to answer
Wordless I once more turn to the passions
I could not master.'
Indeed all creation happens in silence:
'My silence must have tongue'
The Witness consciousness:
'it at the feet of music & listen.
Read on all mistakes,
Watch this world paint itself
In all perspective’s I don’t understand'
And then you end on a very high note bringing such a vast sense of universality and time into your lines:
"I’ll listen to my rest as peace
Sleep when I must to sustain the dream.
Then wake again & bathe in that stream &
Dance then, always like the fool & love always, as before.
I bring my love to lay at the feet of all,
Sacrifice offer to the service of this world.
Worship in the dream of manifold lights along a path of rubies,
Winding through tiny universes of perceiving diamonds.
“the word was made flesh…
& the word was….”
Nothing! Beyond words & love.
There silence is to understand &
In surrender is compassion.
Sing the songs the birds taught
& Remember the lessons of lost battles fought.'
YOU HAVE TO KEEP WRITING! But remember to write only when inspiration hits because it seems yours flows from high places. You have a mediumistic quality to channel these words from beyond. But don't construct anything with your mind because that dulls the inspiration. If you rely purely on your inspired words more and more, you will find pure poetry and not just embedded verses.
Good luck and keep going. |
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