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Desiderata
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such was a poet and shall be and is "when god decided to invent O sweet spontaneous from spiralling ecstatically this perhapsless mystery of paradise) mind without soul may blast some universe --whose only secret all creation sings "next to of course god america i
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Once, when I was young and true,
Someone left me sad-
Broke my brittle heart in two;
And that is very bad.
Love is for unlucky folk,
Love is but a curse.
Once there was a heart I broke;
And that, I think, is worse.
" Some men break your heart in two,
Some men fawn and flatter,
Some men never look at you;
And that clears up the matter."
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All these things have you said of Beauty
Yet in truth you spoke not of her but of needs unsatisfied
And beauty is not a need but an ecstasy.
It is not a mouth thirsting nor an empty hand stretched forth,
But rather a heart enflamed and a soul enchanted.
It is not the image you would see nor the song you would hear,
But rather an image you see though you close your eyes
and a song you hear though you shut your ears."
"The earth is like a beautiful bride who needs no man-made jewels
to heighten her loveliness but is content with the green verture
of her fields, the golden sands of her seashores and
the precious stones of her mountains."
" Your hearts know in silence the secrets
of the days and nights;
But your ears thirst for the sound of
your hearts knowledge.
You would know in words that which
you have always known in thought.
You would touch with your fingers the
naked body of your dreams."
"How generous you are, Earth,
and how strong is your yearning for your children
lost between that which they have attained and that
which they could not obtain.
We clamor and you smile; we flit but you stay!
We extract your elements to make cannons and bombs,
but out of our elements you create lilies and roses."
"Some for the Glories of This World; and some
Sigh for the Phophet`s Paradise to come:
Ah, take the Cash, and let the Promise go,
Nor heed the rumble of the distant Drum!"
"Come, fill the Cup, and in the fire of Spring
Your winter- garment of Repentance fling:
The Bird of Time had but a little way
To flutter-and the Bird is on the Wing."
The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,
Moves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it.
"Ah, Love! could you and I with Fate conspire
To Grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire,
Would not we shatter it to bits-and then
Remould it nearer to the heart`s desire!"
Written 1120 A.C.E
"The quality of mercy is not strain'd
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath: It is twice bless'd;
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes:
'Tis mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes
The crowned monarch better than his crown;
His sceptre shows the force of temporal power,
The attribute to awe and majesty,
Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings;
But mercy is above this sceptred sway,
It is enthroned in the hearts of kings,
It is an attribute to God himself,
And earthly power doth then show likest God's
When mercy seasons justice.
"Our revels now are ended. These our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits, and
Are melted into air, into thin air:
The cloud-capp`d towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherits, shall dissolve,
And, like this unsubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
As dreams are made on; and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep."
Act iv. Sc.1. (The Tempest)
I, thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated
To closeness and the bettering of my mind.
Allen Cohen Poetry
60's Poet/Editor/Teacher/Visionary