I'm your friend ,sublime uncreature ,
your multitude, my intimate enemy
and faithful servant .
You radiate a dark solar beauty
and voluptuousness of emptiness .
Liar and swindler so sincere
who carries me to the top
of the inspired mountain .
And so admiring the realms of time,
eagle defying the call of the chasm ,
wizzard of the indicisive winds ...
Great master !
Welcome to my literary table !
I toss the self-righteous greeting cards
onto the gallows of triviality !
True poetry walzes on a sulphur' abyss ,
offering it's fiery on an indecent volcano !
You can't tempt me
with all the riches of the universe,
nor even the female scent of the harem .
The flesh of gold is a wretched thing
that drives slave mad ...
I want to be your equal
and reign over minds ,
playing a score on the souls...
To the tavern of the dreamers ,
let's raise our iron cup
and break it to the freedom
of white and red seraphs !
All of whom are fallen
who yearn only
for the suffering of flesh
and the birth of form ...
Dear master !
We bring each other contradiction,
you feed on my confusion ,
I am pure spirit in quest of sublime ...
-
Author:
lorenz (Pseudonym) (
Online) - Published: April 29th, 2025 05:53
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 9
- Users favorite of this poem: Ellen Marsell
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Comments2
It is in contradiction that wisdom is found, the birth of nature on a cross of death. A lovely poem of a quest for the unattainable and so are all true quests. Ephemeral and everchanging truth is born and dies to be resurrected from phoenix ashes. A very deep poem in the quest for true poetry.
Do you have to be damned to get access to the inspired mountain ?
It helps. There is a short cut but the price is heavier.
An inner dialogue with the one who grants inspiration — but demands complete self-surrender in return.
The devil is always in the detail ! He's a good boy if you don't take him too seriously !
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