Striving to the Sun and Diving to Death

Striving to the Sun and Diving to Death


When the words ran through my fingers flooding white paper to pastry dough

Leavened to Heaven to indict the Stars and Sun

When I listened to Lennon and smoked a joint

And ate metaphors through my porous mind.

When I drank purple prose from a silver chalice

And saw Rubber Soul and Yoko and Jagger

When all was rubied in the Tuesdays and what we wooed


When the music faded  and I concentrated so hard

To hear Jagger’s faintest vicious whisper above the scratch

Imagining, at the end of every track, a trap door to take you away

To see a white, ignited, smiting the dire night

To see the violet veer to the ultraviolence of the Weathermen

To drive my bike faster and faster and to fly over cliffs

To see to the farthest through the forest, through the marsh


Hells arching over Heavens

The cavities of the clouds apertures for the warring sun

Of Heaven

Glaring, gleaming,

Aryan boy of the solar system

Igniting the photosynthesis of life and fucking


But quiet is the night, spectral, astral, clear

All things evanescent, quickly disappear

The absolutest zero, arctic of no heart

Oh Let me quash this life with a poisoned dart


Copyright, David Gottfried, 2005


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