W. Scott Howard
In truth, I witnessed
—beheld here
from this threshold. There was certain
deception, shadow feather fire
gems: blood, tears, broken throat ichor
pulsations. Quickening startled
to sense, impossible to say--
delirious or daft to be
cherished whereof as if whenas.
Now soonest hasten this in which
these appearances, dim marvels.
Away, aloft
—this reminder,
strange memory unnamable
now—as if never again as
elsewhere before. The dawning light
disconsolated by darkness
visible. Dispersed, prismatic
through these eyes, disappearances:
drifting blaze stitchwork vibrations,
motes. Innumerable crystals.
Was ever snow yet half so white?
There, beheld
—gathering visions
whereof which indeed passages
swerving inceptive quirks and tropes,
embodiments—perturbations
alaas, eylace. Constellations
of flame, frost, whirling atomies:
rumors of whereabouts, chance slopes
colliding singularities.
Turn away whatsuch stuff as though
death were riven with dreamer’s fare.
Here now, as yet
—whenas before,
if woman or man or child shall
prevail along the new day’s cusp
as never again—increments
reverse, tangents proliferate
becoming numerous. We see
ourselves inside the universe,
assemblages of emptiness.
Sea foam diadem: dwelling place
ineffable. Word hord springes.
In truth, I witnessed
—beheld here
from this threshold. There was certain
deception, shadow feather fire
gems: blood, tears, broken throat ichor
pulsations. Quickening startled
to sense, impossible to say--
delirious or daft to be
cherished whereof as if whenas.
Now soonest hasten this in which
these appearances, dim marvels.
Away, aloft
—this reminder,
strange memory unnamable
now—as if never again as
elsewhere before. The dawning light
disconsolated by darkness
visible. Dispersed, prismatic
through these eyes, disappearances:
drifting blaze stitchwork vibrations,
motes. Innumerable crystals.
Was ever snow yet half so white?
There, beheld
—gathering visions
whereof which indeed passages
swerving inceptive quirks and tropes,
embodiments—perturbations
alaas, eylace. Constellations
of flame, frost, whirling atomies:
rumors of whereabouts, chance slopes
colliding singularities.
Turn away whatsuch stuff as though
death were riven with dreamer’s fare.
Here now, as yet
—whenas before,
if woman or man or child shall
prevail along the new day’s cusp
as never again—increments
reverse, tangents proliferate
becoming numerous. We see
ourselves inside the universe,
assemblages of emptiness.
Sea foam diadem: dwelling place
ineffable. Word hord springes.