Tuesday, September 27, 2011


Rest and close your eyes, your
Grimly gathering finally eyes,
Water falling on Agamemnon’s
Scepter severed all their lies
Lay your royal head aside rest
And grow your fine familiar
Tries, for all the evening
Dance and sing is finished
All the hampered
Happenstance has afflicted
Narrow limbs and bones and
Coins against the skies.

You wouldn’t want it
Otherwise you came here
Knowing it were true that if
You troubled the branch
And beam the thoughts that
Melted through ambition
Any sorrow like unto your
Sorrow lonely words there
Wouldn’t be a doubt
A cause to follow through
The children hoarding
Games and painting songs and
Dances shout the summer’s
End the rain is falling on
Agamemnon’s head
Even as you rest and close
Your eyes, your grimly
Gathering finally eyes.

Thursday, September 15, 2011

“All men who have achieved great things have been great dreamers.”—Orison Swett Marden