04-19-2016, 07:36 PM
17.01
Ideas flick like candle flame and slough
the black of static thought, of tired scorn,
of vacuous time that ever aims to snuff
such notions quick, before they’re fully born.
You came to me in waves, but first a surge
that overwhelmed my paradigms by force,
and I believed that we could blindly merge
all light into a single point; a source
of calm, a beacon on a foggy sea.
But every minister of dark agrees
you were the spark— my tender tinder’s sin
that would at once consume my oxygen;
an angel of light that has made me mad,
the brightest idea I ever had.
Honestly began in response to Pablo Neruda's Sonnet 17, but got slightly derailed.
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems-an...tail/49236
Ideas flick like candle flame and slough
the black of static thought, of tired scorn,
of vacuous time that ever aims to snuff
such notions quick, before they’re fully born.
You came to me in waves, but first a surge
that overwhelmed my paradigms by force,
and I believed that we could blindly merge
all light into a single point; a source
of calm, a beacon on a foggy sea.
But every minister of dark agrees
you were the spark— my tender tinder’s sin
that would at once consume my oxygen;
an angel of light that has made me mad,
the brightest idea I ever had.
Honestly began in response to Pablo Neruda's Sonnet 17, but got slightly derailed.
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems-an...tail/49236