I do not attach much importance to the publication or non publication of my poetry and never have done. Most of it (the published part) appeared five, ten, fifteen or even thirty or more years after they were written. The few recently published in magazines (not all of them new, e.g. the sonnets) owed their fate to Nolini's eagerness and not to my initiative. But the vast bulk of what I have written (long poems mostly) lies on shelf and in drawer, most of it for more than a decade, awaiting either dissolution or an interminable revision or total recasting which at the present rate may well retain them there a decade or two more. But that is my own idiosyncrasy—it cannot be a rule or example for others.
There are two beings in my single self. A Godhead watches Nature from behind At play in front with a brilliant surface elf, A time-born creature with a human mind.
Tranquil and boundless like a sea or sky, The Godhead knows himself Eternity's son. Radiant his mind and vast, his heart as free; His will is a sceptre of dominion.
The smaller self by Nature's passions driven, Thoughtful and erring learns his human task; All must be known and to that Greatness given His mind and life, the mirror and the mask.
As with the figure of a symbol dance The screened Omniscient plays at Ignorance.
More >>
Share your feedback. Help us improve. Or ask a question.