|
Subscribe to this site on Substack |
Hear me
read Watch me
read Audio and Video Music: Copyright by |
LONELINESS The heart's a desert fringed by distant mountains. Look! The wanderer has lost his way! See where your restlessness has taken you! You, who would not settle for your home! Not even one cloud floats across to shade you. At night you cannot share the brilliant stars. Time moves so slowly you can scarcely bear it. Yet this you would prefer to feeling pain! PASSION We are the puppets of an inner master, Passive playthings pulled along by passion, Seized by ecstasy, and not let go Until we tumble senseless on the strand. Oh, Master, bring to us that touch of Heaven! That icy fire that lights the whirling stars! That moment that obliterates the moment! And play upon us with your golden hands! LOVE Did you know we can return to Eden And recreate the innocence of old? And unashamed walk naked through the garden? And take our pleasure in the sacred groves? Love's a choice - to step out of the self Into sunlight, into Eden's joy, Where we might hear the music of our lovers, And dance with them the dance of grateful giving. HATE Betrayed! Yes! We think we are betrayed! Oh, wanderer in Hell, why do you suffer? There is no pleasure in your grim obsession, Nor release from pain except through love. We must repeat again, again, again Our livid curses! We lust for bitterness! And yet the people whom, in savage dreams, We boil in oil turn out to be ourselves. INDIFFERENCE The flame's turned low; the cauldron merely simmers. The sky is overcast; it does not rain. We sleep too much to sleep well, dreaming dreams More frightening and lustful than our days. We wait for thunder, lightning, wait for rain In fear and hope, with trembling and desire. We do not care, we care, we do not care, We do not want to care, but, yes, we care. LONELINESS AGAIN Oh, wanderer, at last you have come home! The house is empty; everyone is gone. Is no one with you? What happened to your love? Never mind. Now it's all the same. Don't worry, nothing terrible awaits you. You are and then you're not, it's nothing more. Come, we'll take you to the dreaded line, Which, though we're with you, you must cross alone. Copyright by Nicholas Gordon. Free for personal or non-commercial use.
|
