O’ fair moonlight! O’ gentle rain! O’ howling winds! O’ Sunlit brain!
Do Tell, shall all of you, I grieve? Or in the flux, too soon to say
If Sails like widows shoulders slouch; perhaps the albatross I slayed?
Or coral veins that splay beneath this dark blue veil of Mother Earth
Shall make more pennies of my bones to line its gaping, depth-less purse?
Behind me, Satan! Scourge of life! For some eternity’s now birthing
When in the clutch of fantasies of quietus I sing, unearthing — oil wells from
Vacant blights: such utter depths of delectation! O’ how the ocean groans in
Vain, when from the pulpit I proclaim — I preach of Man’s sweet desperation!
And kneeling to the Eye of Earth, I drink my fill of inspiration.
Not moulding mourning’s heart to stone, nor leaving loveless sighs diminished
But bearing whips on bleeding back, in prayers their pains might be relinquished!;
Spread solace in sweet solitude, which like the hand with ripened grain,
Does tend the barren fields outstretched that they might flourish once again!
This is my call. My course, be damned! The Albatross within my hand.
Though oft I wonder: what Dragonflies, what Larks, what Butterflies I free
Upon a lonesome ship one chose, bereft of sacred company?;
Where songs like teardrops in the rain fall silent in the unmarked graves,
For choosing not one mouth to feed — for fears those tears within my cup’s
A drink that sadly only leaves — one sailor thirsty for a sup!
This is my failure! This is my fear! The Raven perched within my ear.