posted on February 28, 2007 at 4:43 am

in a sad part of town
common or garden yesterday
refrain of time
smoky afternoon
reading and writing
in his library
itinerant musician
second rate saint
one minute prophet
and unhandy man
reading up on this n that
more that than this actually
nevetsyeblik has a muse
a tiny angel he scries
incased in clearest crystal
oh lovely muse
she who sometimes appears as if in winter
and a great snowy forest around her
othertimes she appears as summer
a flowery crown in her golden hair
her skin the whiteness of death itself
why why why
why hast thou summoned me hither?
the face of the angel was still
her mouth never moved from its solemn smile
but the words rang in nevetsyebliks head
like tiny chrystalline bells
he whispered almost inaudibly
dearest one i seek your aid
the angels face filled the sphere
ah sweet mortal….then ask…
ah my lady
i am persecuted by the jesuits n the church
who call me heretical
yet i am not a heretic ….
more like a lunatic
the soft voice of the angel appeared in his head
she smiled a littlemore
as he watched her recede back into the forest
it seemed as if she constantly changed
at first an abundant naked maiden
in the golden glow of her youth
then a withered crone
seconds from the end of a long life
next a brilliant child
framed amonsgt the trees
nevetsyeblik continued
the critics and henchmen of the age of reason
also seek to undo me
burning my books
permitting me no entry into their theatres
the old say i am too young
naturally the young consider me ancient
the rich say too poor
the poor too rich
i have tried to be even handed in all things
but my patrons desert me
my performances are cancelled….
verily a tale of woe
came her voice
and what wouldst thou have of me..?
take me out out out of this age i implore you
every age is a dance of fools poor nevetsyeblik
here is my advice
there be 2 types
those who understand
those who will never understand
accept this and continue on
how will i know the one from the other? he asked
it will be immediately obvious said the angel
will they ever understand? he asked
one day they will all understand said she
and i have more sage advice for thee, mortal man
yes my muse source of all wonder
summon the composer polinski at once
by my art i have filled him with wondrous music
and when thou, sweet man, heareth it
i shall fill thy mouth with spontaneous words
and songs
and thou shall talk with thyself
and answer too
my stream of words shall never fail thee
nay not in this life
or in any other
will there be other lives, angelface?
many many many
the angel faded in her crystal
always the same life
over and over
until you…
she had almost faded into silence within his mind
until what..?
asked the man
and faintly
in the corner of his mind he heard her reply
until you learn
the crystal ball was empty
oh angel what is thing to be called
he gently dared to whisper back
the golden naked woman flashed back into view for an instant
and she spat out a single word

44 Responses to “is this when you live”

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