Written when he was living out his exile in Venice, separated from his family and loved ones, agonizing over his self-imposed financial destruction, the poet gave vent to his despair in this remarkable, densely-packed bewailing. It was also the original of his phrase "wings as oft leathery as feathery", used as the title of his memoir, and denoting the notion that there is the demonic and the angelic in his heart and soul and actions.
a sky, wet with tears
part the skies with the sweet saline of tears of angels
watching with silent shame at our self-immolative madness.
pride that hides a thousand cowardices, the root of weakness,
we seek the bleak shallows of the desert rivers, a curse that tells
all there is to know about our paper hearts. spirits windblown
like the dandelion fluff and milkweed faeries that carry seed
too often into sterile earth, to wither amid the stones that feed
on our very impertinent apathy. free of remorse, pebbles sown
to litter the salted fields of a potter's grave, slave to error.
the village idiots of an age of electrons, speaking in child scrawl
on a tabula rasa for the deaf and the dumb that still hear the call
to arms to seek the fellowship of kindred hearts in a mirror.
clouds on wings as oft leathery as feathery, as bitter and black
as the wax of a candle snuffed with dry fingers holding nothing back.
William F. DeVault. all rights reserved.
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
a sky, wet with tears
Labels: 1997 2 observations
2 observations:
E.J., you did it again. You posted the most remarkable poem today. The other day you wrote something like: You want poetry, we got poetry.
I more than "want" poetry, I NEED poetry. For a long time I used to start my day reading articles, finishing off a chapter in a good book. When my life started getting hectic, I began watching the (very) early news programs. Usually hard news. It wasn't a good way to start my day. As if I weren't busy enough, as if I weren't constantly juggling my and other people's balls/errands, I would get caught up in all of the horrific things going on in the big world. It is a terrible set-up for failure for someone like me who strives to "make things nice." The amount of guilt a person can lay on himself/herself is unlimited when trying to take on the world, trying to carve out little statues of beauty from dead wood.
Lately I've been trying to let some things go, like feeling responsible for everyone and everything around me. It is a hard habbit to break. But I'm working on it.
Attempting to make the entire world a better place is a tall order for someone who doesn't always have the focussed ability to find her car keys or remember to pay the water bill!
Whether you realise it or not, in spite of never having met you, your daily poetry selections and often the comments you use to introduce them, is the one quiet, reflective part of my day. Thank you for making a difference in my world, for giving me that quietude in the mornings.
Please give my warmest regards also to the poet. "All y'all" are really good guys, I've glad to have had the chance to get to know you in this great big cyber world. I hope you will both continue to be a daily inspiration to me and so many others.
Thank you, and have a poetic day, both of you.
I hope I didn't double post. The Asian language characters are something I have yet to master.
LOL.
-MP
P.S. I have some peanuts for you two.
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