|WITH delicate, mad hands, behind his sordid bars,|
|Surely he hath his posies, which they tear and twine;|
|Those scentless wisps of straw that, miserable, line|
|His strait, caged universe, whereat the dull world stares.|
|Pedant and pitiful. O, how his rapt gaze wars||5|
|With their stupidity! Know they what dreams divine|
|Lift his long, laughing reveries like enchanted wine,|
|And make his melancholy germane to the stars'?|
|O lamentable brother! if those pity thee,|
|Am I not fain of all thy lone eyes promise me;||10|
|Half a fool's kingdom, far from men who sow and reap,|
|All their days, vanity? Better then mortal flowers,|
|Thy moon-kissed roses seem: better than love or sleep,|
|The star-crowned solitude of thine oblivious hours.|
collage poetry by Fomorton
dirty tom lives a story
of the doomed
mourned his increasing madness
night I found him on the precipice
I sat facing this extraordinary man, creator of such an endless stream of magical images
endowed with dignity
"I fell." he says "It was a big fall and I couldn't have gotten back up without your help.
It was like going in a cave where you can't see the sun."
I ran along side until I felt he didn't need me, then....I let go.
immediately, I wanted to grab hold again but he was gone
run like pheidipides
He got away
only I believe in happy endings
we still live in its shadow
How do you define eternity?
Can you wait?
~c. MF 2007