Poetry Collection
Verses on spirit, silence & the infinite
Thy Impulsion
All now takes the semblance of a dream;All the passions that once were preciousNow unclasped from de
I Have Been
Have I been Summoner of all Thy dawnsBy a hundred bard-voices of aspiration,Upon a cliff of night ro
Teach Me
Oh, if all songs are but Thine, whence my impudence?!How long have I profaned by opinion Thy song?!A
Protagonist
Behold this new change taking birth,From the cocoon of pain now emergesA winged joy in a body of the
Many Grammars
How many grammars must I perforce learn?Gait and tread and gesture of the physical,An array of movem
Teach Me
Why must a lay day appear thusAs if the night hath parted a veil away,Where gone the deep infused dr
The Forsaken
Must I lose at close of dusk all gains since dawnAll the toil to ascend the will by night is effaced
The Stranger and I
And asked he, the stranger, “Why must thou pourIn this cascade of words that none canst hearThought
Pale Boons
How blind was I to rail at Thee for long,Haranguing Thee for all my sore lack,When all these contrar
Wager
How thrifty was I with the coin of attention,Sifting the hours like a jeweller his jewels,Always my
O Earth
What hast thou fostered O earthThy snows all cold and reluctant,Thy deserts harsh and without mirthA
Gratitude
What strange power is ThineWarding off all humanness like an amulet,A signet occult and inscrutably
Love’s Gauntlet
What a wasteland all this appearsSince I caught a glimpse of Thee,Like a shy smile that swiftly flee
Happy Ray
A happy ray hath invaded inner spaces,It’s happy hegemony in me doth reign,Each hour is a season of
An Incarnate
What hast Thou done unto me,What greatening change begins its unfolding?How could one mortal breast
Our Quarrel
In my heart are rocky vasts solid and mute,I hew them with thought and mint my wordsTo craft for The
Forthwith Restrain
How unfair is this game of ThinePitting for impossibility’s pleasureMy ragged body and sagged veinTo
A Dream
An old dawn climbed the steep horizonSlowly with ancient weary ray-limbs,Far below upon earth yet to
Vestige
A hundred oracle-tongues are in meBy the strange muses possessedUttering cryptic divining prophecyIn
O Rainbow
A mere seven-hued robe lends thee prideTo trace a vulgar arc upon the sky,Thy gaudy pomp for human a
Radiant Ode
How many selves do in a body hide,Dire and dumb and naively noble,How many kneadings to surely mould