14 June, 2011

Trample On The Past And Selves Slain

Morning sun and viaduct
Trample On The Past

The icy hand of thought and deed long past
Constricts my heart at every step and slows
My feet to a hesitant halt. The shadows cast
By dead events blight many a budding rose.
For acts I left undone, what wasted sighs
For spite indulged, what gnaw of sad remorse;
My doubts spawn anxious fears as I analyse
And trace the stream of evil to its sources.
To break the iron gripe of yesterday
I trample on the past and turn my eyes
To morning sun whose glory will not stay,
But like a bird forever onward flies.
By stepping on the countless selves I've slain,
I reach the heights and touch the stars again.

I found this poem amongst my cuttings. I don't know the author and can't find it on Google. I have a feeling that it could be by a Douglas Baker from the early 70s. I have a note by the poem about The Nature of the Soul which Baker often wrote about. For some reason it hit a note with me today.

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4 comments:

  1. Powerful poem. The fact that you found it today must mean that you benefit from the lift!

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  2. love this piece, mike - interesting you post it today because the "countless selves slain" reminds me somewhat of a piece i just posted over at my words unspoken blog - anyway, very neat piece - and i love when we find something and it resonates so with us in that particular moment as this poem did with you -

    have been away a while - first packing and moving and long road trip and now computer issues on both computers! bahhumbug! but it's wonderful to at least have my laptop back today so i can get out and about in the universe a bit -

    have a great day!

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  3. not much into poetry mike a bit too deep for me

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  4. As a poet, I felt it my duty to try and find out who penned this wonderful piece, to no avail. Thank you for sharing Mike.

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