"overawe" poems
Jam non consilio bonus, sed more eo perductus, ut non tantum
recte facere possim, sed nisi recte facere non possim
(Seneca, Letters 130.10)
Stern Daughter of the Voice of God!
O Duty! if that name thou love
Who art a light to guide, a rod
To check the erring, and reprove;
Thou, who art victory and law
When empty terrors overawe;
From vain temptations dost set free;
And calm’st the weary strife of frail humanity!
There are who ask not if thine eye
Be on them; who, in love and truth,
Where no misgiving is, rely
Upon the genial sense of youth:
Glad Hearts! without reproach or blot;
Who do thy work, and know it not:
Oh! if through confidence misplaced
They fail, thy saving arms, dread Power! around them cast.
Serene will be our days and bright,
And happy will our nature be,
When love is an unerring light,
And joy its own security.
And they a blissful course may hold
Even now, who, not unwisely bold,
Live in the spirit of this creed;
Yet seek thy firm support, according to their need.
I, loving freedom, and untried;
No sport of every random gust,
Yet being to myself a guide,
Too blindly have reposed my trust:
And oft, when in my heart was heard
Thy timely mandate, I deferred
The task, in smoother walks to stray;
But thee I now would serve more strictly, if I may.
Through no disturbance of my soul,
Or strong compunction in me wrought,
I supplicate for thy control;
But in the quietness of thought:
Me this unchartered freedom tires;
I feel the weight of chance-desires:
My hopes no more must change their name,
I long for a repose that ever is the same.
Stern Lawgiver! yet thou dost wear
The Godhead’s most benignant grace;
Nor know we anything so fair
As is the smile upon thy face:
Flowers laugh before thee on their beds
And fragrance in thy footing treads;
Thou dost preserve the stars from wrong;
And the most ancient heavens, through Thee, are fresh and strong.
To humbler functions, awful Power!
I call thee: I myself commend
Unto thy guidance from this hour;
Oh, let my weakness have an end!
Give unto me, made lowly wise,
The spirit of self-sacrifice;
The confidence of reason give;
And in the light of truth thy Bondman let me live!
2.4k
Let me start by saying goodbye.
As to every moment you draw
near me, a sporadic mystical
event, left me in overawe of
you and your conflagrant hue
as you trail across me, I see
how glorious you ought to be;
how a great voyage you are on
and how I am of other kind, not
of your own; how we were never
to collide, nor a glimpse of me
in your memory 'twas never to
provide a hunch of who I am
Perhaps, this is how it should be
For a moon has her sun
and a comet has his journey
And the moon is to eclipse with her sun
and the comet has to go with his journey
Thus, I shall cut this heartstring,
and swim out of this drowning
sea of dreams and delusions
and breath the reality back in
Yet I will forever and always be,
an admirer of your beauty; and
maybe, in another time, you
might catch a glimpse of me
covered in blanket of darkness,
accompanied by myriad stars,
You will see me, I know you will
But you will never recognize me
for and with my eternal mediocrity
And I will end by saying hello.
Aug 8, 2017
Aug 8, 2017 at 2:08 AM UTC
In my minds geography
The towers still stand tall.
They rise up from their common grave
And overawe the shore
Above the clouds the diners feast
At windows on the World
as swarms of chefs and waiters
hang on their every word
In my mind's eye, no bells need toll
As mourners read a name.
No firemen in bunker gear
race up the stairs in vain.
With eyes wide closed
Deny, deny, the fast approaching planes
Deny the bodies in the street
Deny the dust and flames
But they are gone and you are gone
And never will I hear
Your soft and **** gentle voice
Or hold your body near
Late at night near Trinity
among the weathered stones
Do I hear the weeping of lost souls
-Or is it just the wind 's low moan?
Jan 5, 2013
Jan 5, 2013 at 9:50 AM UTC