It was a ball of fire then, hot and burning with exploding volcanoes...
The MOTHER tossed it upon her plams,
This way and that;
The ball of redness burnt deep into her skin,
And she cried with pleasure and pain alike...
She tossed and tossed,
Till the fire gave in...
And till her tears vapoured up to form clouds mammoth,
And the clouds rained and rained,
To cause the Great Inundation...
And then came the tiny throbs of life,
Of kinds so varied...
Of sizes so numerous...
Finally cometh Man-
Two legged, adventurers,
With a cranium holding chemicals alien.
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The State Funeral
At least they have given her The State Funeral With tongue cut, She could not have spoken for The rare award, The police have done the th...
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Lord As a pianist whence Fully one fills a sense... An evening thinks perhaps it proper To become a starry night's divine lover... ...
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Once the sculpted face Fell and with it fell Our pride Our demons We made love after that By the sides of our past. (For 'Magp... -
For the last few days... They are not talking... They just listen together-songs... Not songs proper even-some kind of music, instrument...
marvelously composed poem that magnificiently speaks about the painstaking process linked so intricately with every earthly and cosmic creations....job well done..keep up the good work!
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