Category Archives: Ôm

“Yes, of Course”

“Yes, of Course”

Yes, of course, it’s in the silences, the gaps; what isn’t there,
A kind of saving grace. Yes, it’s in the wrist and more, a second
Maiden voyage. The news announces daily the Titanic’s jocund
Journey redux, greater for revision less the ware
And less absorbing in the loss of souls from rarer thinner air
Brought faithfully to task but mind you nonetheless a reckoning
Within a construct; no! an edifice of remembrances within the seconding
Of resolutions that determines Elliot’s wave within the self-defining stare
Of relative modernity; but one tsunami in eternity amid the voids of space.
The promise of redemption’s found in balances of degrees
In praise of beauty in the sun spots’ mighty aura, the aurora in the fray
Of loose inebriating Northern Lights–try distraction while you pray–
Try the Northwest Passage in the making high above the Arctic’s former grace
Notes, rhythms in the writ, a metaphor in G, perhaps, but played in C.

“There was peace and the world had an even tenor to it’s way. Nothing was revealed in the morning, the trend of which was not known the night before. It seems to me that the disaster about to occur was the event, that not only made the world rub its eyes and awake, but woke it with a start, keeping it moving at a rapidly accelerating pace ever since, with less and less peace, satisfaction and happiness. To my mind the world of today awoke April 15, 1912. – Jack Thayer, Titanic Survivor

“While Angels Kiss Your Griefs”


“While Angels Kiss Your Griefs”

“The question’s not so known as that,” and as he sat
This Thomas thinks, but does not say as much,
Defraying trust, and much more or less with such
Emotion as he spares to feed the cat.
“I’ll deal, then, with simple souls, astound
With less the truth, the narrower in breadth,
The lighter lung of two employed. The wrested breath
Less the Ôm will suffer in the exodus, confound
Itself with traffic in upward sweeping breezes,
forsworn by all greater sources, benefits and trends,
Appearances that bootless expedience sends
On shoeless feet as when through the fields
Can anyone afford to laugh before
These  gorging Ætnas fully dine,
Their chisels molten blessings, bloodvines
To Gaea’s futures still in motion in periodic tortured lanes,…”

“Yet on such slopes do you see the fire

Dissolve again, and reconnoitre need,
While angels kiss your griefs before they bleed?”