House of the Goblin [Part Two of Three]
Here is where, where the air is still
And the mountains shadows disappear! Here is where, unnumbered spirits dwell
Where harp and memory expire?
Where the rainbow-leaps, from its
Storeroom-keep, and cries; And the sands along the oceans coast
Echo then die?as in sleep?;
And where enchantment turns into ghouls!...
Who be these spirits, which charm and gleam?
A fabric from the "Inferno," I think Or a symbolic language in a forgotten dream
Yes! We are all exiled from beauty?
Yes, we are exiled from beauty unseen?
Where fragile-wings and tenderness Meet; meet with the seraphim.
Yet we must lock the keep?
So no man may walk among our sleep
Yes, yes, oh yes, we all live- We all live, do we not, you and I,
In the House of the Goblin!...
Muffled in a black lily; smiling, smiling
To find a way out-out, out; Sorceress posing as Almighty God?
'Thou art, as a violent worm!'
(I am more noun than verb, yet the verbs are winning, with the worms.)
Notes: Part II, #753 7/8/05 "In doing this poem, images seem to flash through my mind, as if I found myself in a lockup on planet earth."
Poetry In General by dlsiluk, "To achieve ones meaning in poetry, you may have to drop the musical ascent; or so I've often found myself doing; not sure if there is a right or wrong way in this. But what I do know is that, if I do not drop it, I can not become engulfed with the wholeness of the poem I want to produce. Yes, we have to fight against spirit and experience; and in order to win you must chew on whatever words fit."
Poet/Author Dennis Siluk's new book on poetry: "Spell of the Andes," can be seen at http://www.abe.com or http://www.alibris.com




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