House of the Goblin
[Part Two of Three] Here is where, where the air is still And the mountains shadows disappear!
Here is where, unnumbered spirits dwell Where harp and memory expire… Where the rainbow—leaps, from its Storeroom-keep, and cries;
And the sands along the oceans coast Echo then die…as in sleep…; And where enchantment turns into ghouls!... Who be these spirits, which charm and gleam? A fabric from the “Inferno,” I think
Or a symbolic language in a forgotten dream Yes! We are all exiled from beauty… Yes, we are exiled from beauty unseen… Where fragile-wings and tenderness
Meet; meet with the seraphim. Yet we must lock the keep… So no man may walk among our sleep Yes, yes, oh yes, we all live—
We all live, do we not, you and I, In the House of the Goblin!... Muffled in a black lily; smiling, smiling To find a way out—out, out;
Sorceress posing as Almighty God… ‘Thou art, as a violent worm!’ (I am more noun than verb, yet the
verbs are winning, with the worms.) Notes: Part II, #753 7/8/05 “In doing this poem, images seem to flash through my mind, as if I found myself in a lockup on planet earth.” Poetry In General by dlsiluk, “To achieve ones meaning in poetry, you may have to drop the musical ascent; or so I’ve often found myself doing; not sure if there is a right or wrong way in this. But what I do know is that, if I do not drop it, I can not become engulfed with the wholeness of the poem I want to produce. Yes, we have to fight against spirit and experience; and in order to win you must chew on whatever words fit.” Poet/Author Dennis Siluk's new book on poetry: "Spell of the Andes," can be seen at http://www.abe.com or http://www.alibris.com
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