What phrenzy in my bosom rag’d


I am but a fragment
In a history of drops
Words drip evolution
Language burn sentience
We are mystic support

Each giving voice
To a musical theme
We all intuitively felt
I am but a fragment
Residing in the muse

Of my generation
Which will be your generation
The voices of the past
Speak to me like intimate friends
Literature my sanctuary

Mystics, prophets, these are
My starting point
Greetings to the gods
Who have come and gone
And died, glory to

Philosophies no longer read
The myths we transcend
For new myths
The social construct
And many threads of our lives

I am but a fragment
A poem that the birds dismiss
A radiant charm once confessed
From a civilization that was
Too lavish to endure

In a vacuum of information
Time herself we sacrificed
For a golden roof above
For a moment of our love.

While time our love beguiles

You youth all that world successful be
In love, remember to be free
That in giving you may prevail

The gifts of the maid and21
Body of the troubadour
Bohemian, biological and natural

Do not deny the ancient instincts
The greatest passion
For which your life was made

For time’s passion in you
Will fail, decline, fancy off
To water the flock of your kind

In pleasure let us be free
Whilst some banish cupid
In a kind of cautious fear

While beauty fades
And the taste of life’s tree
For spring blooms but

A couple of sweetest months
And buds flower only
To pursue their brief delight

Embroidered in the Earth’s smiles
Take heart, and blush not
Let’s search for joys unknown.