Soul Poem 2007 Poem by Nathan Coppedge

I.

Hidden powers

Beings and objects containing a multitude!

World lost to psychic damage!

Very much superior, enough so as to be poison!

As such, the problem of evil- -

'Here' is implicative not merely of
Desperation but Unspeakable Horrors,

Dimensions of existence eclipsing senses,

FIRES LIKE SOULS SLIPPING THROUGH TUBES:

Maggots
If not, something eats them!

Infinite infinities....
in writing, written! As though
Babel were a trick of the light

II.

Guitar strings
shrinking from my fingers!

What? Apparently!
IS- -

Extended into- - the Beyond- -
its own limitation;

Human giants
asking too much
of more than words.

Even walking
treads at the limit
of some iris-flowers!


There, there are...

III.

Embankments of empty space

As though in gaurding life
from freeze, time
were FROZEN! THERE!

In jigjag patterns sat
the map of many sojourns;

Its splintered stones are hazy dialects.

a saliva of the potion maker;

The colors of another room!

By appreciating that the exact configuration is important, it
becomes clearer how fragile life can be, yet how full of marvels it can become.

If you want to continue this exchage, disregard limits and opt for honesty, always.