Tuesday, December 11, 2007

Prophet of the present, humanity’s future-

Prophet of the present, humanity’s future-
Less destiny, weep my words knowing no future.

Crying in space’s cavern, mourning musically,
Drown in tears the false prophesied child of future.

Stupid consumer-man, late post-modern wastour,
You fail to forget your by killing our future

When what is lovelier, fuller than desire
Knowing itself as always already future?

The drunken beauty of dawn: imagination
Returning from the science fiction of future.

Ontology of boredom: emptiness being
Unable to enter the presence of future.

Embryo-zombie, never born already dead,
Nicola feels a joy flying beyond future.

2 comments:

Eileen Joy said...

The ghazal is one of my favorite poetic forms, Nicola; these are all wonderful. I especially love "the drunken beauty of dawn."

If you ever have a chance, check out the poet Spencer Reese. He has a thin and beautiful book, "The Clerk's Tale," in which he plays around with the ghazal quite a bit. "Ghazals for Spring" is simply mind-blowing. "The Clerk's Tale," which references Chaucer, of course, but is set in a Brooks Brothers in a mall in Florida, is simply mind-blowing.

Daniel said...

beauty of dawn: imagination = the blue moment.
I'll always associate late nights with Westernco donuts.
Aloha,
Daniel