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Edgar Whitman Wilde
Poems
Sep 2012
Think, ha, ha, yes think
Time has put a vagrancy on my mind
Subdues conformity and material worship
With scalding epileptic convulsions of imagination
My mouth blood-stained, shrieking like a pianting
A painting by Munch gives way, yields, yes yields
To an unrelenting detonation of the unconscious
An existential filter of real or imagined transformations
Which by miraculous tongue restores a belief
To wonder and levies no compass on perception
Yet reveals a tormenting estrangement
That does mount a strenuous and contemptuous protest
Against familiarity with agonized shrieks of obdurate tenacity
Where the phantoms of my imagination enact their mysterious mysteries
And produce a poetic alchemy of violated imagination
Written by
Edgar Whitman Wilde
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