By Neil Hester Jun 20, 2007, 15:42 GMT
A Reflection on Conversing Mirrors
Intangible glass in tangible glass. They standAnd talk of love which we only touchThe beginning of, and of suchWe cannot hope to see the end. Inbetween, the doppelgangersGrace their crystal-set creators,Each as real as next, eachFarther off, smallerThan that before,Until there isnone. I dreamt last nightI almost touchedThe end,butI~~~~~
Ou La Mort
I was told to, bar what they sing,Squeeze my longings to a pointThat pins the edge. Of nothingI speak of; of nothing I takeEverything that is left to behold.Such is taken by eyes that ceaseTo shun the dead horizon,The curve that mocks sanityIn its (im)purest form: God of the civil razor, he laughsBefore the dawn, his daily drawOf red stench, common and quick,Laced with the cheers of menAnd children, dying to seeLife pass a terrific door and flee.
My name is on a program.Everything exploded: my longings,My lungs against the zeal of menWho urged me (in a sense) to beWith and one of theirs. They cry,Liberté, égalité, fraternité!, and IBellow out of mind, but sane,Ou la mort!, and die.~~~~~
Omega is Lovely ~“I am the Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end, the first and the last.”
Omega! The grand and gloriousEnd of beginnings and end of ends– Behold! It stands victorious;Grinning from Alpha to self, it bendsLittle sis Omicron in dashing formAnd carries Pi by infinite grace!Omega whittles Iota to whitAnd balances Delta to stunning lukewarm!The soul of Psi is wholly litAnd buried is Theta, by lethal embraceOf self (not Omega; Omega is lovelyAnd endlessly fair), and golden is Phi– And yet, I should honestly doubt as to whether Omega is endless or ends altogether.
~~~~~
Garden Study of the Vickers Children ~John Singer Sargent
Stem-tall, pretty in whiteAnd black, they take holdOf green. Things that fill eyesOf earth, ever heaven-inclined,Reach softly throughoutThe eyes that hold them,Still growing. They look aboutTo other lovely things, or down,Enraptured. Beneath,Life spans boundlessly.~~~~~~~
Brief Bio: My name is Neil Hester. I like poetry. I wear briefs, but not bios. Well, boxer briefs. Though I am “bio”logical. And “brief”logical, come to think of it. Anyhow..
Visit Neil's blog at http://laevanesce.blogspot.com/
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