The Word of God
Language, ghostly apparition wished for
Cherished by the blind and thus the dead
Now spoken love engenders hate
And hope and faith illicit dread
Language appointed into death
Delivered into gnostic lies
Assuming ectoplasmic life.
Language, dead, until the spoken word
Points again to glory- verbally
Where what is seen , again is forged
With forging power to sights invisible
And then all idols fall
When hearts again understand
To what the spoken word refers
Refers to glory.
Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.
Unknown Source
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
|---|---|---|
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
| Pride In Color | 1 | 01/01/2010 |
| Father God, | 1 | 12/03/2009 |
| The Hollow Beat | 0 | 12/03/2009 |
| The Merging | 0 | 12/03/2009 |
| The Kiss of Love and Glory | 0 | 12/03/2009 |
| The Kiss of Love and Glory | 0 | 12/03/2009 |
| Naked Glory | 0 | 11/07/2009 |
| If My Eye Be Single | 0 | 11/07/2009 |
| Cold And Hot to Fog | 0 | 11/07/2009 |
| In that Quiet | 1 | 11/06/2009 |
| Against Idols | 0 | 11/06/2009 |
| By Faith | 0 | 11/06/2009 |
| The Word of God | 0 | 11/06/2009 |
| Rootedness | 0 | 11/06/2009 |
| Craned Necks and World Crosses | 0 | 10/01/2009 |
| Art and Essence | 1 | 10/01/2009 |
| Petition to my Eternal Father | 0 | 08/10/2009 |
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