Every true poet is my muse. Their poems, <br />The cannon fodder of dreams exploded, <br />(Feed me a dark crow) , even if they walk <br />With only one leg, or have to be carried <br />In the arms of, on the back of a friend. <br />Even if they have forgotten their purpose, <br />And only in fleeting lucid moments, <br />Remember their days as a poet, <br />Who could make sunshine last forever, <br />A mere smile into Christ’s death on the cross, <br />I swear to God I will love him/her till death. <br /> <br />And you, you blackguard of Hell’s gate, <br />This is your punishment, God’s justice. <br />I bite off your head and spit the bitterness out. <br />I drink the warm blood of your still flapping body, <br />A flagon of the sweetest wine at a wedding feast, <br />My white shirt now bright red with your blood. <br />In your days of merciless flight, did you ever dream <br />That your death would bring such pleasure? ! <br />Oh let me till death bring fear to the black heart <br />Who cannot distinguish me from its next victim, <br />Just by knowing I await you too, like Dexter. (1) <br /> <br />And you, heart of every poet, dare to dream <br />Of an absence of crows in blue skies <br />For this is God’s Grace that awaits you. <br />Embrace the irrational, for the joy it brings, <br />We are truly the children of God. <br />In its time, what is low will be lifted up. <br />God is real and His Love is your reward, <br />Be your words without rhythm or rhyme, <br />For your words are the words of a poet. <br />And I do feel (though I am old and getting older) , <br />You have a well earned place in my heart. <br /> <br />Rage with Dylan ‘against the dying of the light, ’ <br />Like a child rest your head on my thigh, <br />Rationality is way over-rated, <br />Just open your heart to my poem and you’ll see.<br /><br />Brian Johnston<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/rationality-is-way-over-rated/
