After
the Sabbath
in honor of Satie and Cézanne
(after Chopin's Sonata in b minor, First Movement)
Heave oars
of wrath. . . pull
Heave oars of wrath. . .
• • •
Heave oars
of wrath through the
humdrum empty stares. . .
Heave oars of wrath through the
vacant, dull despair. . .
Thrash at breathless passion;
thresh through false respite. . .
Heave oars of wrath through the
lifeless, stolid minds. . .
Pierce the flesh of practice;
Sear the lust of rites. . .
Heave oars of wrath through the
lips and tongue mundane. . .
Roar! sunk and swallowed spits of
rage, muffled power, muted
faith, tender, bald and toothless
Fate — Faith’s babe. . .
Awake, Faith prays. . .
Asleep, Faith sings. . .
Heave oars of wrath through the
mindless, vapid cares. . .
Shriek! savage, beastly, woeful
cries, uttered from the crimes of
grief. Stun, arouse the guts of
Life, Death’s hearth. . .
Alert, Death waits. . .
Alive, Death breathes. . .
Heave oars of wrath through the
humdrum, dull despair.
• • •
The heroes
see the genius of it all.
They hear the rumblings of the morning dew
and see Egyptian eyes in Iris new.
The mounts wild emerge from the greed-green brawl
and yield to prism-palettes of minds tall1.
The diamond-souled seas kneel before the coo
of cuckoos, sublime warblings from ones who
farm from mists, ancient threnodies of thrall.
Against the cautious dumb, these pilgrims rare
rebel. As blind to lies, as deaf to hell,
they fashion (inscrutable gamblers) faith
from folly, wisdom kept unfurled, sincere
belief from senses simple yet pell-mell,
and praise unearthly — Sabbath's day eighth.
• • •
Heave oars
of wrath through the
humdrum, dull rewards. . .
Heave oars of wrath through the
vacant, mindless woes. . .
Thrash relinquished passions;
thresh the true from mild. . .
Heave oars of wrath through the
lifeless, passive eyes. . .
Spy for caution’s trespass;
watch deceit amassed. . .
Heave oars of wrath through the
evil, common, plain. . .
• • •
Heave oars
of wrath. . . pull
Heave oars of wrath. . . .
-Tsai
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