Los más leídos ▸
Edgar Lee Masters
Their spirits beat upon mine
Like the wings of a thousand butterflies.
I closed my eyes and felt their spirits vibrating.
I closed my eyes, yet I knew when their lashes
Fringed their cheeks from downcast eyes,
And when they turned their heads;
And when their garments clung to them,
Or fell from them, in exquisite draperies.
Their spirits watched my ecstasy
With wide looks of starry unconcern.
Their spirits looked upon my torture;
They drank it as it were the water of life;
With reddened cheeks, brightened eyes,
The rising flame of my soul made their spirits gilt,
Like the wings of a butterfly drifting suddenly into sunlight.
And they cried to me for life, life, life.
I am out of pretty discourse
I go too far in censuring
I am certain that the world
is the true messiah
but what will change
my books open and open
thin membranes in a void
morning comes with a bit of hurt
I continue like a raven
to believe in the night
up above
so infinite a no body to look after
his mouth rose at noon
a red sad thing
we should be the first to doubt him
lord of nothing
his thick white short hand
like a letter to the void
a place is more than a predecessor
we know
selling places never ought to be
countenanced in the first place
particularly selling
a place of ore
when in the beginning the only place for life
came as a beggar into the void
in some mathematical vision
we proceed by striving to find a void
quick pleasures and sharp agonies
turn into art after a time
who at the burial of lust
could forbear being ash
Night showed morning
as in a theater
the still of the void,
which she had let drop
into me.
Rain.
I got up early.
I was deputy to trouble;
I could not talk.
A place other
than the void tonight?
I go out without
any qualification.
Doubt will be
the end of me.
sky face says meh
to the white noise
of our anti
bodies of work
squeezing whole lives
into a few hours before sleep
while six-legged leaves
chant half the night
sky face acquires
a round cloud mouth
the moonlight denies
ever knowing the moon
the lives we’re missing bloat like corpses
as species dwindle
sky face is just the void
with better branding
I don’t need my games,
Don’t need my movies,
Don’t need my CDs,
You can take it all,
No need for my toys,
My pictures,
My books,
They’re yours,
My car need not exist,
My furniture either,
My TV may be thrown,
You can have it all,
Sitting by my lonesome,
Without all my things,
I feel a weight lifted from my shoulders,
I feel at peace,
Sitting in a void
Thinking about doing better
Doing it on loop
And not able to do better
Same old sobbing story to tell
All imaginary unimaginable gaps to fill
One mind to think about it all
Planning to make it better than all
Doing it on loop
Sitting in a void
Scared to do something new
Knowing the old methods are not enough
Reassuring you have got it tough
Trying to call out you own bluff
Doing it on loop
Sitting in a void