Monday, November 7, 2011

Out of the Body, Forests of Light

Thank you.


from The Song of Myself
by W.W.

Swiftly arose and spread around me the peace and knowledge that pass
all the argument of the earth,
And I know that the hand of God is the promise of my own,
And I know that the spirit of God is the brother of my own,
And that all the men ever born are also my brothers, and the women
my sisters and lovers,
And that a kelson of the creation is love,
And limitless are leaves stiff or drooping in the fields,
And brown ants in the little wells beneath them,
And mossy scabs of the worm fence, heap'd stones, elder, mullein and


Fitz Ellarald - R by minro



by R.M.

The path we crossed trembled
in its lineaments; yet trembled
more for the forgetfulness
which we looked down upon it.

And bore us, spanning over,
in its memory, which considers
nothing but memory, and earth,
gamboling from dusk to dusk.

Were moment more a thing
of such tender unbecomings   
I should not have crossed that path.
I should have stayed
and watched you dissolve
into the glimmering vectors
of your hair.

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