I love nothing more than love that speaks not.
To love is silence broken – scent of rot.
In silence one hears the music of the spheres
In solitude thoughts are the only seers.
Show me a walled cave and I’ll show you
A new constellation with a winged view.
Supernovas, stars, swirling nebulae,
Glimpses of knowledge waiting to pupate;
But dare to love and submit, and silence
Will cloud the skies with ignorant incense.
And dare you let a single flower bloom
Without listening to its petal’s croon?
Stars like trees, trees like stars, waves without sea
Capers creeping crawling through bastion’s seam,
Ancient angels refusing to exist
Time-worn devils too idle to resist.
These scenes are I all I have ever dare known
For I was born with no old place to go.
I was born with the world mapped in my sight,
And every man’s story is mine by right.
Whenever I travel it is to see
The lives of those who will never touch me.
Antony and Paul, heirs of desert crowns,
This is the Fate which on me never frowns.
A monk without robes ascends steep mountain sides
Why do the religious have more fun than me
Why do the agnostic know more transcendence
And hermits wander more than rovers?
History is a parody of what will never be.
Byzantium rules the desert sands
Constantine imprisons the freedom of martyrs.
I don’t even belong where I belong
I’ve always dreamed of making
My nightmares come true.
From the top of the breathless mountain
The monk could see Constantinople blooming
From the shifting sands, its walls tattooed
With the words that made God great:
Jerusalem Ikonos Vera Icona
Death – death – fear – God is true
“I don’t want to see anymore!”
A city crafted for the worship of a death-god
Dreaming of rapture when Virgil will re-write
The Fate of men before judgement
– Poets can fool even the Christ-king –
It’s as if I were never born:
All I crave is to enter into life
Be it through a whore’s womb
Or an angel’s chest
The mountain peak casts an eclipse of solitude:
Each grain of sand is married to its neighbour
Yet still, it is a mere grain of sand.
A grain of sand that created the entire universe
For if that grain of sand did not exist
Neither would the entire universe.
Constantinople sinks in the shadows
And the whole of icon-starved Byzantium
Was swallowed by the dunes
– Just as the monk craved.
Enjoy the collapse of all you loathed
And in your solitude beware the curse
Of your dreams coming true.