Not Many.

Not many. Few verses speak Aloud. Not many. Not many Even if the verses Bring not forth flowing song Continue Poet-Seer: Continue Calculation after calculation Before the advent of Immortality A skeleton in the coffin Made Face upwards Ever You see. The verse just sung manifests One reason why we need Immortality. On the feast-day The church all lit. Full of parishioners Gilt and lighted The festive statue. Transfixed I saw the church Filled By as many skeletons As were parishioners Proposal made. Proposal to do. So many made. And see Where we are heading to. Storm and water. Storm and fire Storm and sound Lightning Thunder Storm of restlessness Human. What must care I For Fame? Just I reply: Continue verse And song Experiment; diversify Evolve along And care not No, care not. Waters flow Somewhat like Currents Currents of the brain Hectic in trading Intellectually Wealth counts, but here. In the skies I soared by the Prerogative Of Poet-Seer. Not more. Not else. Not power. Not wealth. A broken heart. A vessel in the midst Of the green jaws of tempest. I. Now. Break the jaws of the liquid tempest See Just look and see The island of rest beckons With the Dawn. Desperate I made the move. For what do When desperation Only remains? I need courage. Fear rules me Now More than ever. Help! I saw the jaws of Fear Open. Yet so great my fear That I feared not One word. One verse. One poem. One song. One feeling. I saw dusk stealing Defeated The poor thing Had any alternative? Even dusk fears For when haughty Night First stars alight Dusk disappears. At the end of the tunnel, dim light. At the end of the tunnel, fading Fading sound of a train. Grimy walls, dark in the tunnel. From beginning to end, However you trudge on and on and on. Ah! that be life my Monsignor! I make equivalent the dark tunnel With life, dark, dim light at the end. The winds are rife The trees strive Garden trembling Deluges falling I read my drama. My own verses. Some. As I scanned My eye fell Here and there. And I wrote more. The Will unlimited Looks over The panorama Looks Looks right above At the immense heavens To be as immense The Immense Will And Not limited. Scour, scour my Monsignor! You will see drear The more you scour Feverish as the miser for the pelf You search and dig For fading happiness. Despair my Monsignor! That way you will desire Not, and never ever. That way You will draw happiness from her lair. One emotion is enough – let Time stop now! In my hand I took a skeleton head I looked and looked So that Might I will Immortality So that I might think Deep Deep Deeper I know. I write verse. I then look. I see the verse I have just written in the skies. Write here. Here. Here, my Poet Seer Here Then Then look at the heavens Immense See See what you wrote Writ In the face of them, The heavens immense! Chest of dreams. But I lost the key. I know. I know the tempests. I know the roaring winds. The trembling trees. The screaming gardens. The shivering hands. The trembling brain. I know what suffering To find the key. Coasts that fume with waves Rocks with spume Waves of green. Centuries that whirl. Times that stop, Then sprint, Intermittent. Ah! the human breast Emotions Heave Restlessness! Thoughts. Desperation. Union of thoughts and desperation. Then heaving of emotions. Storms and tempests. Then quiet. Immortality suspended Red-carded by the Referee of Life himself. Skeleton in a coffin Looking upwards. Where? Where was the black milk of yesterday? We drunk of it and tasted That we drunk more. The stars – well part of them Had fallen in the cup Where the black of misery Sopped them all And then we drunk all. Where? Where was the black milk of yesterday? We drunk of it and tasted That we drunk more In to the heavens A red cow flew And flowers after grew In to the heavens Started falling night dew And more and more it grew In to the heavens The black of drear and misery Mirrored our lot of now, we. Await the Dawn. In desperation await the Dawn. Is there alternative? If so, assert to me. Desperation here Desperation there What alternative but Dawn? My brain hammers Yet it be weak and vague Thoughts stammer. Even the Voice from the heavens Says: Await! Await the Dawn! The night is bleak. How many nights These centuries past were bleak. So after all This be one bleak night Of all those centuries. The palms over the bastions Are downcast; with bent heads They care not for next Dawn When it comes. This night my mother In hospital Wanes. This night I in my house Away from my mother Wane. For this night my mother In hospital Wanes. Dim candle, Light that wanes Heart sad. Broken voice, Hoarse throat Harsh words. Deep Soul Penetrated to blood Ruthless clinical.