So much gas escapes
My sinuses open
Like the wet marsh air
Of Newarktown night
I'm returned to my body
The dreams of late
Haven't been anything
But consecutive nightmares
So then, where am I?
That feeling in the morning
If I were to ever get
Sleep at night
That feeling of certainty
I knew it in Crown Heights
I was me; who I am
I am real; this is immense
Kill me? Like Geronimo
Bullets can not do it
Unless propelled by
Greater forces than gas
The old way; the first way
Hard as hell to keep
Faith mocked, even cursed
Left alone with a sick heart
The beauty comes when
The barometer drops
And the blood is rich
With laughter and gold.
Ceux qui ont apparié notre vie à un songe ont eu de la raison...Nous veillons dormants et veillants dormons. -Montaigne
Intro
O full-orb'd moon, did but thy rays
Their last upon mine anguish gaze!
Beside this desk, at dead of night,
Oft have I watched to hail thy light:
Then, pensive friend! o'er book and scroll,
With soothing power, thy radiance stole!
In thy dear light, ah, might I climb,
Freely, some mountain height sublime,
Round mountain caves with spirits ride,
In thy mild haze o'er meadows glide,
And, purged from knowledge-fumes, renew
My spirit, in thy healing dew!
Goethe: Faust I.
Monday, January 10, 2011
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