aberrant hymn

another poem from 92 - July to be exact, written while working at Springfield Forest Product, possibly the worst place i have ever been employed. it was less than 2 months later, i left to work at Weyco papermill .....



HYMN OF THE ABERRANT

Darkness is a state of mind:
we walk upon the dark side of the moon
listening to the whispers of Alexander Komorov
as if it were the wind through tall timber -
which it isnt

& the belief that pain is a viable guage to life
is a profanity echoed here

heretics -such as i- mumble
gazing into the mysteries of her smile
were dark waters tumble down granite mountains
& the perfect dream is offered in her touch

Darkness is an avenue:
we with limp legs & no headlights
stumbling upon the bones of gods
that have no documentation -
gods none the less

& the concept that pain is a legitimate measure of worth
is a holy decree i try not to believe

dissidents -such as i - weep
gazing into the myseries of her eyes
where dark waters tumble down granite mountains
& the perfect dream is offered in her touch