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On My Road to Damascus

Soliloquy from D.O.Y.

Beyond today there does not exist
Any hope of a spiritual metamorphosis
Not long now until the end of this present renaissance
Mythological epitaphs are showing classical fatigue
Yet in the privacy of my own mind
I feel middle-aged, sculptured
Studies in stone, my triple city
Morning town, a reptile's revelation
Evening town, barking canine ballads
And now finally, naked city
Man's fantasy of immortality

Now younger poets sketch life
I told them years before dawn broke
Leave the silence a mathematical object
Woman's gates of heaven are too near
Your heart touching the waterfall of life
Hope climbs on my little fragile bridge to the moon
Nervously fly impertinent kites to levitation
I leave to the State, human optimism
I leave to the Church, spiritual pessimism
I support the Kremlin on one thing only
Victory over the Vatican
On my road to Damascus
I stopped
and thought
Then I bought a packet of cigarettes

Nice piece of imagry, Ben.
Georges
ps on the road did you meet a man called Paul?

Keeping to the spiritual theme, were the cigs, Senior 'Service' ?

I like your poem, Ben.

~ Elizabeth

Lizzie, Byron and Goerge

Byron there are many prayers but few real 'Players'

Lizzie and George thanks for your support, there is very little on the board just now.

Ben

Ben ~
Vivid pictures; tangible, audible thoughts...very affective.
Encore!

~ Makera

Ben,
there are so many that love your poems...and I am one of them...
your poems are so spiritual, creative and full of surprises....I love them...
please, keep posting...

Iubita

Dear Iubita

Thank you for your kind words for all the recent poems, I really appreciate the comment

Kind regards

Ben Kelly