The Dual Angel

A Meditation on Origin and Choice

Incantation to Lucifer

Angel disarmed, lay down your cunning, finally tell

The currents, stops and altitudes between Heaven and Hell.

Or were the scalding stars too loud for your celestial velleities,

The everlasting zones of emptiness uncanny to your imperious

hand?

Did you admit the shocks and shuttles of the circumstance,

And were the aeons ever sinister

Or were they just vulgar as a marathon dance?

Did you keep camping all through chaos

Comparing colors of infinity to neon lights?

Forever were you inconsolable during the downward flight

Spurning the comfort of affinity and rose, the rest of sunset, clarity,

Avoiding rainbows in that desperate clash against the stars?

Your tearless wizardry soon caught the rhyme

Of universe, the planetary chimes, atomic quandary.

It took you only a zone or two to riddle

The top-secret density relating Space to Time.

Did once your hurtling senses turn

To paradise that you had robbed and spurned?

Did you once wonder, one time weep?

As earth nears, turn again defaulting eyes to paradise,

Defaulting eyes, turn once again

With the presentiment of further bliss

Before you shudder with the first and final kiss.

Hymen, O Hymen

It was the time when the newest star was inchoate

And there were only revolving seas and land still malleable.

There was no garden at that time--but there was God.

For when the sun burst God chose the minority side of firmament

And settled on earth to study an experiment.

We know nothing of that meeting, nothing at all

Only the protean firelight fearful on the wall.

Since we only know it happened its anybodys guess

How abdicated angel asked for and found Gods rest.

Ecce, the emperor of velocity and glare

The splendor from his awful odyssey, his starlit hair

Landed on a rim of ocean, striding to shore

The radiant grace and arrogance before

The blue-veined instep faltered and slowly dimmed the pirate eyes.

Ecce, the quailing emperor against a violet sea and the primeval

skies.

Behold this homage to a majesty almost impossible to explain

For after the heavenly holdup God was left rather plain.

Deliberate and unadorned, but after all what need

Of scepter had the hand that hewed the Universe?

And ruler of infinity has little use for speed.

His visage black with wind and sun, almighty hand vibrant with

strife

Feeling in blank mysterious seas the secret miracle of life.

Imagine the encounter when the polarities chance

When stars of love and sorrow met Satans jeweled glance.

We are told nothing of conception, really nothing at all.

Only the firelit symbols of an antique nurse scary and changing on

the wall.

We are told nothing

Of the vibrato of desire remorseless

Until the solar-plexal swinging

Orchestrates to all flesh singing.

Post coitum, omnia tristia sunt.

Sadness, then sleep, the blaze of noon, loves gladness.

There was no witness of this bridal night

Only azoic seascape and interlocking angels might.

So now we speculate with filial wonder,

Fabricate that night of love and ponder

On the quietude of Satan in our Fathers arms:

Velocity stilled, the restful shade.

Satan we can understand--but what was Gods will

That cosmic night before we were made?

The next day He completed His experiment

Found in the seas that atom he willed alive

Nursed in His awesome hand, taught to survive

The shock of creation, watched with His love and care

Astride in ocean and unknowing that Satans ocean-skipping eye

was there

Envisaging end in the beginning, wrestling with Gods life,

The eye of guile had sliced the atom with Satanic knife.

Love And The Rind Of Time

What is Time that man should be so mindful:

The earth is aged 500 thousand millions of years,

Allowing some hundred thousand millions of margin for error

And man evolving a mere half-million years of consciousness,

twilight and terror

Only a flicker of eternity divides us from unknowing beast

And how far are we from the fern, the rose, essential yeast?

Indeed in these light aeons how far

From animal to evening star?

Skip time for now and fix the eye upon eternity

Eye gazing backward or forward it is the same

Whether Mozart or short-order cook with an infirmity

Except the illuminations alter their shafts

Except we would rather be Mozart, we want to last as long as

Possible, to radiate, to sing

Although in eternity it may be the same thing.

In Gods cosmos according to report

Nothing lapses, no gene is lost

After centuries may bustle in the sport

Which will in time command the line.

Those who find it a little harder to live

And therefore live a little harder,

As struggling gene in oceanic plant

Predestine voluntary cells that give

The evolutionary turn to fish, then beast

With multiplying brain that dominates earths feasts.

From weed to dinosaur through the peripheries of stars

From furtherest star imperiled on the rind of time,

How long to core of love in human mind?

The Dual Angel

The world dazed by Satanic glares

Like country children spangled-eyed at county fairs

Seeing no terror in trapeze, kinetic thrill of zones above listening,

And the unheeded shrill of the world lost, rocketing in space,

Despairs of those who are struck down upon Hells floor and die

--or crawl awhile a little more.

The screams are heard by blasted ears within the radiation zone

And hanging eyes upon a cheek must see the charred and iridescent

craze--

Earth orphaned by atom, each man alone.

The furious intellect relating furtherest space to beyondest time,

Exalting abstractions, vaulting the 1 2 3,

Defaulting from the simplest kinship, disjoining man from man,

Seeing across oceans, and stumbling on a grain of sand. Almighty

God!

After the half a million years this is the century of decision

Between obscenest suicide and Mans transfigured vision.

Here are the flowering plant, beast and the dual angel,

The living who struggles with the weight of dead and,

Recognizing victory, surmises radiance in lead.

Father, Upon Thy Image We Are Spanned

Why are we split upon our double nature, how are we planned?

Father, upon what Image are we spanned?

Turning helpless in the garden of right and wrong

Mocked by the reversibles of good and evil

Heir of the exile. Lucifer, and brother of Thy universal Son

Who said it is finished when Thy synthesis was just begun.

We suffer the sorrow of separation and division

With a heart that blazes with Christs vision:

That though we be deviously natured, dual-planned,

Father, upon Thy image we are spanned.

AVE