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benyapoesyPoems
Was it a divine sign amongst the creation – A revelation so lightsome and pregnant – That a blanching feather’s unforeseen descent   Made my poetic soul blench for evocation? Surely, t’was from some celestial spheres, – Angelic wings of cherubs and seraphim – So long been soaking in firmamental affairs That human mental senses but morphine. A feather if eatable, a matter of addiction – Plucking and plucking without satiety – If been drinkable, a matter of intoxication Leading humans into ever inebriety.                                --- O’ glorious feathers who hover with mystery –   Over skyey dreams and unearthly visions – Which land on the earth with vice and misery, Lending the haver only vain aspirations. O’ one-time ornaments of the seven heavens – Brightness and whiteness of all times – Have you no shame on the dirt of your pens Writing worldly prose and heretic rhymes? By-the-way, your heaven is no heaven but a sky – As well as not every brightening is holy – Just as Icarus has fallen from and by your high As others are mystified by your fake glory.                                --- Whether art thou the sinister poker of Iblis – Leading by a dancing feather in the hand – Human arts like the one that let fall Ibn Idris Calling with fair words to the Fallen’s land? Whether divine inspirations in form of an aura – Blown on the poor’s brow as enlightenment – Art thou as the freshening science of soul and soma Kindling the minds’ muscles as a tea of mint? Oh, Only God knows of Ma’at’s Hall of gloom –   If one’s deeds worth a feather morrow – So, I seek only Deus’ forgiving, life-giving plume To pardon my feather on the mortal pillow.
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Oct 5, 2019
Oct 5, 2019 at 1:13 AM UTC
Of Feather
Was it a divine sign amongst the creation – A revelation so lightsome and pregnant – That a blanching feather’s unforeseen descent   Made my poetic soul blench for evocation? Surely, t’was from some celestial spheres, – Angelic wings of cherubs and seraphim – So long been soaking in firmamental affairs That human mental senses but morphine. A feather if eatable, a matter of addiction – Plucking and plucking without satiety – If been drinkable, a matter of intoxication Leading humans into ever inebriety.                                --- O’ glorious feathers who hover with mystery –   Over skyey dreams and unearthly visions – Which land on the earth with vice and misery, Lending the haver only vain aspirations. O’ one-time ornaments of the seven heavens – Brightness and whiteness of all times – Have you no shame on the dirt of your pens Writing worldly prose and heretic rhymes? By-the-way, your heaven is no heaven but a sky – As well as not every brightening is holy – Just as Icarus has fallen from and by your high As others are mystified by your fake glory.                                --- Whether art thou the sinister poker of Iblis – Leading by a dancing feather in the hand – Human arts like the one that let fall Ibn Idris Calling with fair words to the Fallen’s land? Whether divine inspirations in form of an aura – Blown on the poor’s brow as enlightenment – Art thou as the freshening science of soul and soma Kindling the minds’ muscles as a tea of mint? Oh, Only God knows of Ma’at’s Hall of gloom –   If one’s deeds worth a feather morrow – So, I seek only Deus’ forgiving, life-giving plume To pardon my feather on the mortal pillow.
Published in Magnum Opus - Universal Oneness 2019, New Delhi 08.04.2018, Algeria
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Written by
benyapoesy
27/M/Algeria / Hungary
Oct 5, 2019
Oct 5, 2019 at 1:13 AM UTC
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