The Most Stupid Writer
To Write A Poem
-christian licen-
A poem such as this can never be understood
As the
writer speaks himself between the lines
Of the unspoken, unspeakable, imperceptible
Tell me not in mournful lines
Why I sobbed,
why this dawn had caused my heart
To bleed a
crimson sky …
Why some
distant shadows
Fall from above and heed no path
But yield the footprints
yonder and cry
Why my visions
blur
Trembling at
the mirage undefined and intangible
But at a
clearing it spots a silhouette of my perception
Why my hands
are shaken while writing
Ever to defy
such erudite discernment
This poesy be
void by redemption
Seeing myself worthless at the slime of your
countenance
From the trembling at your feet
I prostrate, I surrender.
But I have to
awake in extreme oblivion
Though still
trapped by the pillory of quandary
No point of
return, no point of detour
May the sun
now rise from the bellows of insanity
And plead the
mornings to capture
This stupid writer
by your sheer embrace
