Satan Rode My Train
Author: Rick Ryckman
I have paid my fare to ride the black express from heaven to hell.
I have been on Dante's ladder, and I know what his steps are made of.
You are the saints out there.
I hope that you will not stare?
For then, you will be the geeks.
I the saint!
Only through ignorance of innocence you stay the saints.
Watch the beauty in all you see.
State, city, countryside; mainly your fellowman!
Crystallize beyond your gaze.
Cascades that have long been falling like sunshine in its sparkling height.
The bird in sudden flight!
Diabolical eyes have seen all things.
The cock crows from the beings dawn.
Landscapes have not altered.
Things that standout ---- resign severely.
These hills or rocks ---- all besides strangulated fields.
That is now dry.
Satan ---- those that are stiff and mute belongs to you.
Ride out in worlds I shall not see.
Watching from my window of a smoking train.
Guardian of the prairies of the absolute!
Once from heaven ---- to an angel's eye.
Where is the water or sky without a flaw?
What others feed upon mortality flying to the young with claws and fangs?
Angel ---- floundering about ---- first and lonely.
Teach me what you know.
After this weary ride ---- I must find rest.
Comments on this poem/writing:
|priscilla freeman (22.214.171.124) -- Monday, August 20 2007, 07:05 pm|
i like this poem
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