03 October 2008

Consciousness Of Our Return (rev)

Night's grating of steel on stone and splash
of water from the dredge’s bucket-crash
impacts that moment in a flash; the night
burnt bright in limb's caress and flesh yield
flesh in passions blessed by sealed lips.

Abandon bested grace in a pummelled bed
where beauty was a closeness of the bodies
welded hip to hip in cleavage closer than the
clench of life, found possessed in fevered
souls of each, embracing darkness thus.

The struggle of gigantic rhythms found no
modest harmony in fellow tunes, the war of
lover's needs had touched mortality within
their aching dreams.

In light that shrieked from this potency glared
an image of each, perceived and bared as only
climacteric can, unclothe in fervency of mutual
ascent, the nakedness of man.

The vision in that lucid truth which quelled the
raging passion bidden, anguished gasps which
quavered to a warm and glowing balsam is a
thousand wise men's tongues and wisdom,
a million poems unwritten.

In music of the dying embers chorus' strong
the cry of sanity’s return denied in selfish song.
Subdued and silenced, limpness in a sighed
caress, gentle, tender, and they part contused
in humid sweetness.

Venom of this vigour cools, belies a lucid state,
eerie bucket's dirge re-echoes turn of fate,
a shivered jarring crumpled sheets, discerned
in coldness of the sea-bed dredge’s
consciousness of our return.
© 1964, I.D. Carswell