Spirit Between Words
Swerve Of Lucretius
Hermead Epic of Philosophers
© Surazeus
2018 03 05
Each morning when Aurora wears orange gown
and strides across meadows of hills and plains,
casting glow of light on rivers and trees,
Lucretius enters temple, reads old scrolls,
and translates verses of Empedokles.
"I sense weird glow of spirit between words,
illuminating visions of our minds.
When I emerge from the room of my dreams,
like river snake from haven of its egg,
my eyes assemble light beams into things
so I can see clear shining of their shapes.
I utter sounds to signify each thing,
expressing shape of its essential being,
to sketch curved contours of its glowing life
by hiding its spirit in space of words.
I mark letters with ink on parchment sheaf
to capture sounds that express words of thought
like woven net captures wiggling stream fish
to activate visions inside our eyes.
I weave true spirit of each pulsing thing
between adjustable parts of its word
which swirls like sea waves between solid rocks
that flash its idol in my watching eyes.
I sense our whole world is structure of atoms
clumping together through chemical lust
and I am part of that geometric gush,
aware of myself flowing in its stream.
My spirit is bright sparkle of my atoms
that binds them tight in spinning wheels of hope
so I may fly through swirling sea of souls
who sing melody of aching desire.
Letters sprout like trees on lush river shore
and spirit of atomic objects glow
in silent spaces of those words I write
to mirror essence of their idols clear
which allows people whose eyes read those words
to perceive essence in atoms of things.
I see visions glow from letters of verse
composed by Empedokles in Greek words,
then I capture slippery essence of visions
in Latin words that mirror arcane thoughts
so Romans can see visions about nature
dreamed by Empedokles centuries ago.
Dreams of our souls when we perceive weird world
glow in spaces between words we inscribe,
like lightning between mountain peaks."
Swerve Of Lucretius
Hermead Epic of Philosophers
© Surazeus
2018 03 05
Each morning when Aurora wears orange gown
and strides across meadows of hills and plains,
casting glow of light on rivers and trees,
Lucretius enters temple, reads old scrolls,
and translates verses of Empedokles.
"I sense weird glow of spirit between words,
illuminating visions of our minds.
When I emerge from the room of my dreams,
like river snake from haven of its egg,
my eyes assemble light beams into things
so I can see clear shining of their shapes.
I utter sounds to signify each thing,
expressing shape of its essential being,
to sketch curved contours of its glowing life
by hiding its spirit in space of words.
I mark letters with ink on parchment sheaf
to capture sounds that express words of thought
like woven net captures wiggling stream fish
to activate visions inside our eyes.
I weave true spirit of each pulsing thing
between adjustable parts of its word
which swirls like sea waves between solid rocks
that flash its idol in my watching eyes.
I sense our whole world is structure of atoms
clumping together through chemical lust
and I am part of that geometric gush,
aware of myself flowing in its stream.
My spirit is bright sparkle of my atoms
that binds them tight in spinning wheels of hope
so I may fly through swirling sea of souls
who sing melody of aching desire.
Letters sprout like trees on lush river shore
and spirit of atomic objects glow
in silent spaces of those words I write
to mirror essence of their idols clear
which allows people whose eyes read those words
to perceive essence in atoms of things.
I see visions glow from letters of verse
composed by Empedokles in Greek words,
then I capture slippery essence of visions
in Latin words that mirror arcane thoughts
so Romans can see visions about nature
dreamed by Empedokles centuries ago.
Dreams of our souls when we perceive weird world
glow in spaces between words we inscribe,
like lightning between mountain peaks."
No comments:
Post a Comment