ON FIRE (AND BURNS)

from “ON LIFE (SOME VERSES ON VIRTUE)”

Fair nymph of paradise,
Pass judgement o’er the heavens by which thou shalt shed the tears of Neptune’s oceans, of the sea
to see the death of deception.
Be thyself, thine own rings true,
by which I, myself, shall beseech you.
Ten thousand crimes! Oh slanderous sin,
by wicked tongue, hot mettle, that broods of young men,
that thou thyself shall know in thine own kinsmen:
true love beware, true love we once shared,
though matters of the heart do yearn, but wise men dare not declare,
Rushing forward in prose, by verse, with little care.
Thou have taught, nay, thou have, shown,
the futility that lays within the passion of the tongue,
like little fairies wasting today,
like a lovers’ love, gone, gone, forever, at once, away.
Perhaps in another life, between the gravity of the heavens and the fabric of time,
That sorrow which holds us, and profounds the mind,
The quandaries thou must ask, explorations of the great divine, Have settled on course of the vast sea beyond the mind.
Take heart child.
That I know now, thou shalt see in due course,
By which the crimes of men do tell recourse,
A witch! We cry! Fair maiden to the sea!
A philosopher we mourn, great man never to be.

What heart speaks truths? Filled with great deceit
that which by hope, and fleeting, the nymph before me,
sings sweetly now as thou art a siren,
And I the satyr, nay, but some part goat some part and lion,
What monster I am! What monster thou shalt see?
When I embrace my love, nay, my philosophy.
And such thou shall say: peace break thee off,
The heavens’ enraged! By which you declare untrue: such slanders you save!
But peace break thy love,
For heaven’s not true,
without your embrace.
My sweet nymph
Does a heart love and learn? By which the recourse of that very yearn.
Seeks again such warlike forms, of epics and heroes, such journeys indeed!
by which thy mortals do offer at the very goddess’ feet.
And. Burn. Burn. Burn.
Thy heavens we offend, so I shall not live again,
Nor suffer a monster, chained to my heavy sins,
So fair nymph, of paradise to which I pray,
Cast me below, to where I decay,
Past judgement o’er the heavens by which thou shalt not shed a tear,
to the darkness I go, happy with cheer,
hopeful my scheme will bring me near,
the great peace I seek, a piece of it still,
though forever and ever, and ever: marked by fear.
And. Burn. Burn. Burn.