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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=476951" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Voices Of Dead Friends, Departed Lovers</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The voices of dead friends, departed lovers <br>aimlessly feather the night air like the fragrances<br>of wildflowers and burning guitars thriving in the dark. <br>I'm out to see the Delta Aquarids down by the river, <br>leaping like a man with faith in his precarious footing <br>from skull to skull like a chessboard of oracular rocks<br>keeping their heads above water like a half-hearted bridge<br>dog-paddling in its own collapse, trying to cross <br>the same mindstream they're in up to their eyes<br>for a better view of the sky in the clearing on the other side. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Clouds of cometary junkyards in decaying orbits.<br>Placental remains of unilluminated afterbirths.<br>I delight in watching how wasted things shine the brightest <br>on their way down like blossoms of paint<br>flaking off the windows of heaven like rose petals<br>revealing these thorns that gore and slash the night <br>like matadors and meteors with razorblades <br>hidden under the screening myths of their eyelids. <br>It's natural when opposites come together, <br>enjoining disparate elements into more enduring alloys, <br>it's the clarity that seems confusing to the untrained eye<br>and chaos that foreshadows transmorphic reality.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">All my aspirations emanate from the same radiant<br>like sudden cremations in the upper atmosphere<br>that disintegrate and flame out upon re-entry <br>like Icarian candlewax at the black mass <br>of a waning eclipse factualizing the omens <br>of its own self-fulfilling prophecies of subliminal descent.<br>All the matches I strike like fireflies <br>and phosphorus flower buds against my heart <br>are put out by the same bloodstream <br>they once illuminated like wild columbine<br>and the hydrogen blue of the star clusters <br>burning like irises along this highly siderealized river. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Meteors. Two an hour. Bayonets of light<br>making the rounds on the nightwatch. <br>The tree line blows through the open window <br>of the wavering lake like an old curtain<br>about to be shed like the veil of the Queen of Heaven. <br>Indigo the eyes of Isis. With a white wavelength for a smile.<br>Here where she gathers up the severed hearts <br>of the light's dismemberment like body parts <br>she heals by leaving the waterlilies on all night in the morgue<br>and staring so long and immaculately <br>into the darkness like a lump of coal<br>for the third eye of a spiritual snowman <br>washing his hands of himself like a pilgrimage<br>weeping diamonds all along the way <br>like the excruciating tears we all shed <br>in the shrines of the black suns that rise at midnight<br>like broken mirrors from the graves of dead metaphors.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Patrick+White">Patrick White</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=476951" data-title="The Voices Of Dead Friends, Departed Lovers de Patrick White" data-description="The voices of dead friends, departed lovers 
aimlessly feather the night air like the fragrances
of wildflowers and burning guitars thriving in the dark. 
I'm out to see the Delta Aquarids down by the river, 
leaping like a man with faith in his p..."></div>
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