Posted in Uncategorized, tagged a confection of conflation, Book of Los, breath, descent into matter, dishelleved spirit, expiration, fall, gravity(his angel), howling, language, letters of fire, line of descent, muse, Poetry, politics of ecstacy, rebellion in heaven, sparkle, speaking out, the Fall, the magic letters, vanishing, vision dream, William Blake, word river, words, writing on November 10, 2013|
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ANGEL FALLS, ELOQUENT
Dropped
They fracture,
Crumble,
Separate seconds
From stillness.
Meteor words
Burning fast
A lever
For omens,
Simply
The gravity
Of bodies
Too heavy
With burning heart.
Golden alphabets
Spilled
Tumbling
To flagged floor.
To carve
A sigh,
A cursive line.
(Improbable
Evolution as ever).
Descent into matter.
Dissonant mutter.
Disowned stutter.
A step
Hitched,
Syncopate.
Fabric of time
Glazed pattern
Wingbeat.
World
Whorled
Whirled.
Blake,
Startled awake
Mouths
Eyeless,
A ghost
Of muscle,
Vision sinew.
—
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