"idol" poems
#*Can it love you like God loves you, with a love that is better than life?
Can it connect you to eternal beauty? Can it save you? Can it redeem you?
Can it lift you out of the miry pit? Can it make you clean enough to finally feel acceptable?
Can it delight your soul to the core? Can it take your breath away with its faithfulness to you? Can it paint both sunrise and sunset across the sky to beckon your attention? Can it cause the breeze to blow and gently caress your cheeks? Can it send hummingbirds and wildflowers across your path to romance your heart? Can it parade before you the starry host and call them each by name?
Can it probe you to the depths and fill you with itself?
Can it rush to your aid riding on the wings of the wind?
Can it satisfy your hunger and thirst with bountiful things?
Can it give to you feet like a deer that you might dance upon the heights?
Can it arrange every detail of your life to draw you and drive you to itself?
Can it pursue you with all the resources of the universe?
Can it know you through and through and still desire you?
Can it raise you up and seat you in the heavenly realms and bless you with every spiritual blessing? Can it supply your every need out of its glorious riches? Can its grace be sufficient for you and its mercy help you in your greatest temptation? Can it pour overflowing comfort into you through all of your troubles? Can it reach down to draw you out of deep waters? Can it set you on an unshakable foundation? Can it bound across the mountains to come to your rescue? Can it make you lie down in green pastures and lead you beside still waters?
Can it walk with you through the darkest wilderness and never leave you or forsake you? Can it carry you when you are weak or have fallen? Can it let you rest between its shoulders when you are weary or burdened?
Can it escort you to heaven’s banqueting table
and spread its banner of love over you?
Can it hide you in the shelter of its wing?
Can it be your daily portion and immerse you in the boundlessness of itself?
Can it clothe you in robes of righteousness and garments of salvation?
Can it give to you praise in exchange for mourning?
Can it bestow on you a crown of beauty for ashes?
Can it turn your wailing into dancing?
Can it flood you with peace like a river?
Can it fill your heart with joy in the worst of afflictions?
Can it know the way to lead you home?
Can it refine you in its fire and bring you forth as gold?
Can it capture you fully even as it sets you fully free?
Can it ever truly be your Everything?*#
Jul 3, 2016
Jul 3, 2016 at 12:47 PM UTC
#*Lord Jesus, Plower of my heart,
though the darkness descends around me
and heavy moods fall over me,
though the warm feelings of intimacy begin to fade
and encroaching melancholy threatens to set in
like a cold reversal of the winds,
still I will rejoice in Your presence with me,
for You are causing me to press beyond—
beyond the delightful sense of You
and into the delightful assurance of You.
If I know nothing else, I know that You are here,
You are faithful and You love me.
So I will keep clinging to that
when everything else seems to slip
like dust through my fingers
and all hope of good things
in this life grows dim.
I will cling to the promise
that You are clinging to me,
that You’ve got me no matter what,
that You are never leaving or letting go.
For You are the unchanging I AM
in my ever-changing circumstances,
through my ever-shifting emotions,
over my ever-shaking life
and around my ever-feeble heart.
Here is my hand, Lord Jesus.
I put it safely in Yours and trust You
to lead me through this dark night.
Work Your holy, harrowing fingers
deep into the soil of my heart
until every idol is uprooted,
every stone removed
and every broken place restored.
Thank You, Jesus.
I love You.*#
Aug 1, 2017
Aug 1, 2017 at 5:16 PM UTC
fall was in the air and it was a very dreary october day. the halls of the old victorian house had been filled with new arivals and lots of noise.
"i can barely hear myself think." Madison sneered, a cigarette in her hand as she stood next to zoey and nan in the hallway. looking at the new girls with disguist. "and none of these new ******* better step on my toes. this isnt ******* hogwarts." she rolled her eyes. "hogwarts." zoey laughed, making nan laugh aswell. "if this were hogwarts, you would be draco malfoy" nan joked. "hardy har har." Madison snickered. "and you would be harry potters fat cousin because your ugly and nobody loves you." madison smiled. "well, i think it's great." zoey said cheerfully. "all of these girls would feel lost and alone and now they have somewhere to belong.". "you would say that." Madison rolled her eyes. suddenly a slightly younger girl with big green eyes and long brown hair and freckles rushed up to the three of them with a gleam in her eye. "oh my god it is you! you're madison montgomery!" the girl explained. " i love you! will you sign my back pack?" the girl turned around and Madison pulled a pink highlighter out of the side of her floral backpack. her face lit up as she wrote her name on the backpack making zoey and nan smile aswell. "thank you! thank you! thank you! you're my idol." the girl blushed. "my name is Cassie motts, i've seen all of your movies, i love you! i love you! i love you!" the girl giggled. "alright.." Madison had been taken back a step. "have a great day you little ****** she smiled, a look of confusion hung upon her face. "thank you.. you dont know how much this means to me." the girl explained cheerfully and walked away. "well ladies it looks like we're the head honchoes around this **** show." Madison sighed, still slightly smiling. "i was always the head honchoe." nan replied. "yeah, okay, right." zoey rolled her eyes and smiled at nan as the three made there way down the hall together.
Jan 28, 2015
Jan 28, 2015 at 7:14 PM UTC
It's a **** shame.. These girls are so different yet they are the same.. A figment of imagination .. To draw a line in the divine pigment and foundation.. 2 Queens in the same race.. In the same race.. Can't get along because of the tone on their face... Whatever the case I wish you all could get first place.. Don't let the color of your skin have you unfit within... I wish I could undraw that a line with the pen.. Of self hate that they handed us.. We didn't wanna hate eachother they demanded us... These skin tones... They tore us apart from the field to the kitchen.. Enough of the ******** & ******* QUEENS PRAISE QUEENS!!!!! And that final.. Instead of making enemies.. Make yourself someone's idol... Don't let this world segregate a segregated being.. I'm dedicating this to you.. Every dark skinned & light skinned Queen... ONE LOVE...
Jan 5, 2015
Jan 5, 2015 at 5:00 PM UTC
the moon is a lesbian,
which i know because she has
kissed every inch of my body
more often than any lover
i've ever known.
i have watched the way
she kisses the ocean
and guides her gently home,
have seen her face reflected with love
in the ever-changing sparkling surface of the sea,
and i don't know any other word
to describe a love like that.
the day we smoked a joint in the woods
and then walked eight miles in the rain
to gas station coffee,
we passed two other gas stations on the way,
but you were holding my hand and
i didn't want it to stop.
you said
"you're beautiful"
and i said
~~~~
because you were the most remarkable
person i had ever seen,
leaned up against the hood of a stranger's car,
smoking a cigarette like a lesbian james dean.
you'd call yourself
"lesbian" sixteen times before breakfast
until it stopped sounding like venom
and started to sound like a prayer,
because how could i ever look at
love like this and feel anything
but holy?
my new church was the woods
by the river,
and i learned to worship
at the altar of your body.
you took me in your arms and you said,
"baby,
you're beautiful,"
and i told you i loved you
because beautiful had never
meant anything to me
except that i had something
people could take.
i heard "beautiful" from your lips and it sounded
like a blessing.
the moon is a lesbian because
she knows how to love without taking,
i have scarcely loved a man
who has learned how to love without taking,
that is not to say that no man
can love without taking,
but it is a skill that is learned
through a grief
that i have shared with every
queer woman i have ever met.
when you kissed me in the attic,
it was not the first time
i had been kissed,
but it was the first time that a touch
felt like a gift and not a punishment,
and it was the first time i understood
why people write love songs.
i wanted to write you a love song,
but after a lifetime afraid of my own voice,
all i could sing you were hymns.
not because i had made you an idol,
but because your hands on my body
made me feel clean for the first time.
the moon is a lesbian because
the night i stumbled out of
the apartment of the man
who only loved me when
he thought he could keep me,
blood on my lips and nowhere to go,
the moon kissed my fingertips
and she said,
"baby,
what took you so long?
welcome home."
Mar 27, 2017
Mar 27, 2017 at 11:25 AM UTC
I love him
And I hope he loves me too but
How can he
If he doesn't know me?
Jul 14, 2014
Jul 14, 2014 at 7:54 AM UTC
I aspired so much to be like her
I, myself, aspired so much to be like a person who didnt even aspire to be herself.
my thoughts were consumed with attempting to be like the girl i saw in front of me
but what were my eyes missing
My eyes, my eyes missed years of self despise, eyes filled with tears unable to cry, for she was too hurt.
My eyes missed the pain that she felt, the drugs she dealt all to gain new perspective and put a little green in the pockets that were almost torn.
i didnt even know who i was yet, but the thought of being her engulfed my every action.
all of my actions attempts to gain satifaction that i was one step closer to being the girl i saw.
and then was the moment i saw through it all.
this humpty dumpty i put so high up on an imaginary pedistol had her final fall.
This girl, was perfect, but in her mind she felt she didnt derserve it,
felt so far away from perfection she didnt know how to show it.
So she hid behind her clothes and her makeup, making everyone fall in love with a version of herself that was a lie.
A lie that left her broken and so unsure of herself and of peoples real emotions, because her real self had left so many turning for the door she didnt know how to portray herself in such a way to make anyone she loved or cared for stay.
Her story is real, her fall was so great that the impact was too much for her fragile broken body to take.
so she didnt take it. she took the easy way out.
she killed herself on the same day she lost herself long ago.
the same day she found that being a revolving door to men and their baggage was the only thing that made her forget for a while.
I hope shes happy where she is and i hope she will smile to know that i aspired to be the real her, not the one she appeared to be.
Apr 17, 2013
Apr 17, 2013 at 12:09 PM UTC
Metallic-, ionic-, covalent bonds.
Persisting still proving, able to break.
The forces assured, the pressures endured,
the attraction unequal, results left uncured.
Surely there exits an unbreakable bond,
created by a wand from a paranormal pond.
A connection not so rare, sharing DNA in our hair.
A bond assuring trust, selflessness and care.
Not even death, can break a bond that strong
and this may seem unfair, science points to wrong
but this is no illusion, my doubts are less than low
I do not have to prove, what I already know.
Its far beyond a feeling, description left unknown.
This bond is right beside me, never am I alone.
I do not need an idol, I do not need a god.
Impossible to forge a key, it's not that type of lock.
My brother is my hero, my brother is my rock.
Jun 9, 2013
Jun 9, 2013 at 12:12 PM UTC
Disconnected the more we’re connected
Our children are affected and feeling neglected
While our rights to privacy are no longer respected
An idea our ancestors never projected
The transgressions of technological progression
An obsession creating social oppression
A Millennial’s iDol, a prized possession
Sep 6, 2015
Sep 6, 2015 at 1:12 AM UTC
Performing full of passion
Watching you through my vision
You catch my attention
And I ended with admiration
You don't have an exact description
'Cos you're the best than my expection
And totally beyond my imagination
Before, I live for nothing
As you came it's worthliving
You are life changing
You give my life full of meaning
Everything you do keeps my heart beating
You are the reason behind this feeling
You keep my heart trembling
Can't help just keep on admiring
It is not an obsession
Just giving me a daily motivation
And become my life inspiration
You always makes me smile
Even the distance between us are
thousand miles
This kind of situation is totally fine
I love you as a man
But you love me as a fan
I love you even though you are not mine.
Oct 13, 2018
Oct 13, 2018 at 7:12 AM UTC
I can come inspire you
Become your idol
Like I have a mansion
Built on the Bridle
I have to make a move
Come and take you down
I wanna make a movie
And sing like Chris Brown
I wanna make you work for it
So I’m putting in resistance
I’m tryna go half’s on a baby
Bring another life to existence
I just watch you undress
Spend my time fantasising
Sweat drip down your spine
The temperatures rising
Jun 11, 2020
Jun 11, 2020 at 10:03 AM UTC
Wait before you start thinking,
You should wait and complete this reading,
Can it not be a tool for worshiping?
Inspiring idols of deities like Durgā,
You feel so cared for by their motherliness,
Can you otherwise visualise an imaginary God?
Teachings from the idols of Saraswati,
You get connected to a Goddess's wisdom,
Where else you'd rather gain blessings from?
Wealth from the idols of Lakshmi,
You gain financial security & confidence,
Or is imagining a formless promoter God easy?
Cutest idols of deities like Gaņeshã,
You will love a naughty deity Bãl Krshņã,
Why should you not use idols for worshiping?
Mature idols of deities like Šiva,
You would feel them bestowing their calm,
Should it not be fun visualising them?
Statues are made with dedicated love,
They all invite such respectful admiration,
How would you ever feel the hatred?
I am aware that none of these idols is God,
Neither stones nor pictures can be Gods.
But what bad is a peaceful polytheism?
Do not please be jealous of their art,
And do not hate idol worshipers.
Feel confident and so peaceful,
Try worshiping stone idols.
Sep 10, 2016
Sep 10, 2016 at 1:48 PM UTC
On side of mountain down
or washed upon idol shore
Armed with kingly crown
and book by which they swore
No matter how long ago
they remember their dreams
because of reflective echos
from saddened streams
Some may float
while others sink
but no matter your coat
we thirst the same drink
Those who slept in the hold
covered by prayers that weep
wondered why they were sold
and who would their souls keep
I see what you see
though we are not agreed
I will forever set them free
and love no matter their seed
Mar 15, 2015
Mar 15, 2015 at 9:26 PM UTC
Drona was a great teacher of archery
He taught it to Pandavas and kauravas
Arjuna was his favourite disciple
He liked him for his pious principle
Drona promised to make him the best
In any form of archery test
One day A tribal came to Drona
And requested him to teach the craft
The master asked him for his caste
The tribal revealed the fact
Drona told him he would teach only the upper-caste
And leave the place in great haste
The Tribal,Ekalavya, Made an idol of his master
And became an invincible archer
Drona and Arjuna came to the forest
The former considered the tribal was the best
Drona asked for the tribal’s master
And surprised to find the answer
And demanded his right thumb as a gift
Ekalavya offered it as a token of great respect
Jan 4, 2011
Jan 4, 2011 at 5:57 PM UTC
It's where I'm meant to be,
But you're standing in my way.
You're not a harmful subject,
Yet you're not asking me to stay.
It's where I'm meant to be,
My heart said it's the only way.
You're standing before me,
Turning my mind into your clay.
It's where I'm meant to be,
I thought my final signs were screaming.
At me, of course, who else?
You're standing there listening and watching.
It's where I'm meant to be,
I thought God finally heard my call.
My call to Him was not for you, but for a path,
The one you're still standing in strong and tall.
It's where I'm meant to be,
For how much more must I pray?
You're still my growing obstacle,
Hey Ganesh, lost options for games to play?
It's where I'm meant to be,
I call the place my mother, my home.
You're there standing like a sacred idol,
Hey Ganesh, please make your message to me, more known.
Nov 5, 2015
Nov 5, 2015 at 11:12 PM UTC
*We all had a start,
We have been ignorant
Far of being smart,
With an artificial blank brain,
And a brave willing heart,
We were weak to stand alone,
To learn and achieve on our own,
To live we needed a mentor,
A guide through this chart,
It could be a father,
A passionate brother
Or a loving mother,
A famous great idol,
A wise careful teacher,
Or just an annoying sister,
A mentor could be anyone
Anyone that brings hope,
Anyone that could motivate us
Anyone that made us thus.*
© Copy right protected
Sep 16, 2013
Sep 16, 2013 at 7:17 AM UTC
Hence Cupid! with your cheating toys,
Your real griefs, and painted joys,
Your pleasure which itself destroys.
Lovers like men in fevers burn and rave,
And only what will injure them do crave.
Men's weakness makes love so severe,
They give him power by their fear,
And make the shackles which they wear.
Who to another does his heart submit,
Makes his own idol, and then worships it.
Him whose heart is all his own,
Peace and liberty does crown,
He apprehends no killing frown.
He feels no raptures which are joys diseased,
And is not much transported, but still pleased.
5.5k
*when the moon writhe and crawling the silent night..
it was time to layover yearning who clotted for sweetheart..
when the sun excited to greet the morning ..
it was time to embed cheerfulness on the idol of conscience..
sprinkle knitted heart turmoil and dew drops each cavity of jasmine petals ..
i greet to you, my dearest sister..
each twist will crease beautiful crowded heart longing ..
so that relieved you feel full carefree breathing..
with the presence of me,
i will fulfill your every drought in the lake of your worries ..
i will treat every your petulant in lap with more excellent attention ...
return back to you as always, my dearest sister..
to pulling the curtain the recesses of the heart that always hiding ..
to wrapping blush smolder desire in your heart arms ..
because your bliss, my dearest sister..
it's most beautiful thing that can i enjoy ever ..*
-the poetry is dedicated to a sincere friend of mine, Ha-
┈┈┈┈┈»̶·̵̭̌✽✽·̵̭̌«̶ ƦУ »̶·̵̭̌✽✽·̵̭̌«̶┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
adinda
kala sang rembulan menggeliat merayapi malam sunyi..
tibalah waktu untuk menyinggahi gigilnya kerinduan sang kekasih sanubari..
kala sang mentari bersemangat menyambut pagi ..
tibalah waktu untuk menyematkan kecerian pada sang pujaan nurani..
menyemaikan untaian gejolak kalbu dan meneteskan embun disetiap rongga kelopak melati..
kusambut darimu, adinda...
setiap simpul lipatan hati yang sesak akan indahnya kerinduan..
agar terasa lega engkau bernafas penuh riang..
bersama hadirku,
kan kupenuhi setiap kekeringan ditelaga keresahanmu..
kan kumanjakan setiap rajukanmu dipangkuan perhatian nan syahdu...
berpulang selalu kepadamu, adinda..
untuk menyibakan tirai pada relung hati yang selalu bersembunyi..
untuk membalut rona kerinduanmu yang membara dalam dekapan hati ..
kerena bahagiamu, adinda...
adalah merupakan hal terindah yang dapat kunikmati..
Jan 13, 2014
Jan 13, 2014 at 1:32 AM UTC
You called me a god and I believed you and I thought you would always wait for me thought your love for me was infinite texted you drunk because you can't judge me I judge you that's how this works but I remember when you said you were an atheist and I realized that I am a human just like you and when given enough time you can overcome any obstacle and I was the biggest one in your way so you went around me and now I am alone and godless and you have found a new idol and I write about you when I'm drunk I guess that probably tells you something and I love you I just don't know what that means yet please do not forget about me
Sep 7, 2014
Sep 7, 2014 at 12:47 AM UTC
In these rapid, restless shadows,
Once I walked at eventide,
When a gentle, silent maiden,
Walked in beauty at my side.
She alone there walked beside me
All in beauty, like a bride.
Pallidly the moon was shining
On the dewy meadows nigh;
On the silvery, silent rivers,
On the mountains far and high,—
On the ocean’s star-lit waters,
Where the winds a-weary die.
Slowly, silently we wandered
From the open cottage door,
Underneath the elm’s long branches
To the pavement bending o’er;
Underneath the mossy willow
And the dying sycamore.
With the myriad stars in beauty
All bedight, the heavens were seen,
Radiant hopes were bright around me,
Like the light of stars serene;
Like the mellow midnight splendor
Of the Night’s irradiate queen.
Audibly the elm-leaves whispered
Peaceful, pleasant melodies,
Like the distant murmured music
Of unquiet, lovely seas;
While the winds were hushed in slumber
In the fragrant flowers and trees.
Wondrous and unwonted beauty
Still adorning all did seem,
While I told my love in fables
’Neath the willows by the stream;
Would the heart have kept unspoken
Love that was its rarest dream!
Instantly away we wandered
In the shadowy twilight tide,
She, the silent, scornful maiden,
Walking calmly at my side,
With a step serene and stately,
All in beauty, all in pride.
Vacantly I walked beside her.
On the earth mine eyes were cast;
Swift and keen there came unto me
Bitter memories of the past—
On me, like the rain in Autumn
On the dead leaves, cold and fast.
Underneath the elms we parted,
By the lowly cottage door;
One brief word alone was uttered—
Never on our lips before;
And away I walked forlornly,
Broken-hearted evermore.
Slowly, silently I loitered,
Homeward, in the night, alone;
Sudden anguish bound my spirit,
That my youth had never known;
Wild unrest, like that which cometh
When the Night’s first dream hath flown.
Now, to me the elm-leaves whisper
Mad, discordant melodies,
And keen melodies like shadows
Haunt the moaning willow trees,
And the sycamores with laughter
Mock me in the nightly breeze.
Sad and pale the Autumn moonlight
Through the sighing foliage streams;
And each morning, midnight shadow,
Shadow of my sorrow seems;
Strive, O heart, forget thine idol!
And, O soul, forget thy dreams!
5.4k
Let not my love be called idolatry,
Nor my belovèd as an idol show,
Since all alike my songs and praises be
To one, of one, still such, and ever so.
Kind is my love today, tomorrow kind,
Still constant in a wondrous excellence;
Therefore my verse to constancy confined,
One thing expressing, leaves out difference.
“Fair, kind, and true” is all my argument,
“Fair, kind, and true” varying to other words;
And in this change is my invention spent,
Three themes in one, which wondrous scope affords.
Fair, kind, and true, have often lived alone.
Which three till now never kept seat in one.
5k
Unreality: Thanksgiving Miami Style
It is 70 degrees, afternoon,
sunny Miami winter style.
Nike shorts, flip flops,
polo shirt white,
music, pandora, and
no place he
needs to be.
the collected works and
worries, left behind,
the boy, and he is taking
it to the limit,
wanting a day of no cares,
one more time.
yet, recollecting, writing
impertent, dissatisfied,
no reason, none that I can
irrationally explain.
previous night,
my eyes have
seen the
second-coming.
everybody smiles
happy, looking fit,
tight black dresses
the law of the land.
food flows like wine,
wine flows like water.
lose track of the numbers,
glasses of Cortese di Gavi,
cold and white refilled
in the Miami heat,
exactly, how old am I,
and where
my eyes should
not be staring,
bodies intended
to maim,
after they
**** you.
it is a long-short tale,
how it came to be,
that I am living thanksgiving
in the unreality of Miami style.
was supposed be at the
head of the table carving,
giving secret tastes to
numerous grandchildren,
multiple dogs,
defrosting after the
Macy's Day Parade.
my children, their
kith and kin.
that was supposed to be
my New York reality,
at the head of the table.
divorce, monkey wrench,
I am in a different state,
a different table, a
welcome bystander,
but her love,
my love,
has brought me,
to unseasonal places,
higher and higher,
where I am welcomed
as her man.
not a bad unreality,
but still someone has torn
off a piece of me,
a tasty combo of
sad and guilt,
that I ******* up,
which is why this
writing is my re-righting
the ship of perspective.
maybe I am dreaming
of what was never,
could have been,
should of been,
kidding myself, with an idyll,
the unreality of an idol,
though I vague recollect,
there were meals like that.
think this is my fourth trip here,
sort of, almost a tradition.
BobbyDylan, he reminds
what that woman,
done for me,
been doing to me.
*"I was in another lifetime
one of toil and blood,
when blackness was a virtue
and the road was full of mud
I came in from the wilderness
a creature void of form.
"Come in" she said
"I'll give you shelter
from the storm".*
so she did,
a new reality born.
so semi-sad poem, but
happy thanks to give,
for this day,
new family
embracing, and I am
recollecting,
read somewhere,
you cannot be thankful
for having,
only for giving.
Thanksgiving
Not
Thanks-having
Thanks-receiving
New Reality: Thanksgiving Miami Style.
Nov 28, 2013
Nov 28, 2013 at 3:53 PM UTC
To experience a concert is unlike anything else
The roar of the crowd only matched by the boom of the music.
My mom, my protector, in the sea of raging people.
The music taking control of each and everyone of them.
She and her friends surrounding me,
Creating a wall between a little girl and the sea.
I do not remember exactly what was being played,
Or what was said.
But I will not forget the overwhelming feeling of awe,
As I watched my idol sang his heart out.
If you look years into the future,
You would find that same girl all grown up now,
Right by the stage at a concert.
My friends and I, we are now the protectors.
Keeping my sister shielded from the sea.
As she experiences for the first time,
The roar of the crowd, the boom of the music.
As she stands in awe,
Listening so closely as the band plays.
Sep 14, 2015
Sep 14, 2015 at 1:27 PM UTC
Idle hands:
Idol hands.
One the same,
Not sure again.
Sit on the fence,
Yet who owns the yard?
The power of that prince
You disregard.
You forget the One
Who called you here;
Now to decide,
The choice is near,
For He said "hate your
Parents, sister, brother"
So if you don't serve one,
You serve the other.
tsk
Mar 16, 2015
Mar 16, 2015 at 2:19 AM UTC
Lo! Death has reared himself a throne
In a strange city lying alone
Far down within the dim West,
Where the good and the bad and the worst and the best
Have gone to their eternal rest.
There shrines and palaces and towers
(Time-eaten towers and tremble not!)
Resemble nothing that is ours.
Around, by lifting winds forgot,
Resignedly beneath the sky
The melancholy waters lie.
No rays from the holy Heaven come down
On the long night-time of that town;
But light from out the lurid sea
Streams up the turrets silently—
Gleams up the pinnacles far and free—
Up domes—up spires—up kingly halls—
Up fanes—up Babylon-like walls—
Up shadowy long-forgotten bowers
Of sculptured ivy and stone flowers—
Up many and many a marvellous shrine
Whose wreathed friezes intertwine
The viol, the violet, and the vine.
Resignedly beneath the sky
The melancholy waters lie.
So blend the turrets and shadows there
That all seem pendulous in air,
While from a proud tower in the town
Death looks gigantically down.
There open fanes and gaping graves
Yawn level with the luminous waves;
But not the riches there that lie
In each idol’s diamond eye—
Not the gaily-jewelled dead
Tempt the waters from their bed;
For no ripples curl, alas!
Along that wilderness of glass—
No swellings tell that winds may be
Upon some far-off happier sea—
No heavings hint that winds have been
On seas less hideously serene.
But lo, a stir is in the air!
The wave—there is a movement there!
As if the towers had ****** aside,
In slightly sinking, the dull tide—
As if their tops had feebly given
A void within the filmy Heaven.
The waves have now a redder glow—
The hours are breathing faint and low—
And when, amid no earthly moans,
Down, down that town shall settle hence,
Hell, rising from a thousand thrones,
Shall do it reverence.
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