I see in the clouds a kingdom, or a flower;
I discern in sometime shapes strange things, hour after hour.
The world arrives in droplets and wisps,
Sublimity is only shadows and mist.

I see these fields bloom every year.
I compare these to people, who disappear,
Nature blinks, and sorrow and thinking banishes;
I glimpse the whole truth when the whole truth vanishes.
Fancy sculpted rock into a shapely lawn.
A girl with a perfect shape who stood here is gone.

In heaven, I will shoot straight up through cloud
To see the sun. If heaven is cloudy, this should be allowed;
My greatest dream was cloud on cloud on cloud.
Once, I decided earthly life was no good:
Let the sun be the dish, and clouds my only food.



  1. bug said,

    September 28, 2011 at 9:46 pm

    It’s brave to risk poesy on a site where you’re so fond of savaging the poesy of others…

    Brownie point to you for that, I guess.

    Eat up.

  2. thomasbrady said,

    September 29, 2011 at 6:26 pm

    I put my poetry where my criticism is.

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