The Sixth Form

The Sixth Form

 

 

To breathe auroras

 

above the mountain

 

in Thracian meadows

 

where Orpheus wandered. . .

 

in the valley of  roses--

 

& the rose oils that

 

spring from withered kings . . .

 

**

 

Little eyeball that is tired of songs

 

roll up your lid

 

and look around.

 

It is day again!

 

the blue is strong

 

and turns to us

 

as to one

 

it has known for  some time

 

but is not sure
what he will he say or do

 

still the birds bluster

 

and the bright wind thrums.

 

 

the aureole of silence

 

is the hum of  penitents

 

passing through desire

 

to the font of language. . .

 

**

 

(Painted birds

 

above the table

 

dive and approach

 

the painted vine.)

 

**

 

The leprechaun, dressed in emerald green, danced easily in the circle of lunging snakes. Each time he tapped his cane on the ground, it was exactly the place the next snake would strike. The snake hit the cane and bounced off harmlessly and the little man continued to dance and sing. But the song he sang. . . that was the thing. . . a song I felt to be of Celtic origin. And the more I listened, the more dizzy I became, until I was infused with a  strange, radiant feeling of bliss. In that bliss I knew I was the song he sang. . . the music, the lyric and the voice itself. . . And I woke up with a knowledge words cannot explain, though words are all I have to make it known.

**

 

It will not be read. Who will listen? These stories of the dead, more alive than you and I. The world will not listen, and still I will write.

Such writing is for the sky, that has held our sorrows.

 

To endure the sea stains

 

and melon-colored lights, the pastels that carry a moral presence, however alien, embedded and untoward.

**

The darkness in us is very great. Let the guitars play and we will sing. The sea will twinkle and the stars will swim. The land will roll vastly in the dollar's wake.

**

When the sixth form comes, there will be no interest. Empathy will make it impossible to debate. The end of sophistry. The end of delusion. . . .