Adamantine

Here I am in the dark, unseen
I, myself am dark, of rotten composition,
Cannot tell which way is up
Unknown is my position

Deep, dark, deposited, down
Burried beneath bedrock bunkers
Pressed—pressures piling
Waiting, wondering, when will wasting wane?

Futher pressing, crushing constricting
Finding no line to traverse
But into my universe
No way out but in
Turning squeezing, turning changing
From coal to crystalline
Brittle to adamantine

Born of tribulation
Son of adversity
Conceived while rotten
(Brittle black)
Born non-living, hard
Sparkling
Adamantine

Remnants of life
Further killed
Crushed to indestructibility
Adamantine

Inflexible, unbending
Obdurate, adamant
Undaunting
Coldness and lifeless
Haunting

Born from death
Thing of no breath
Thing of beauty (eerie)
Personification of dead immortality

False immortality
Preserved in death
Suspended animation
Life and death in contention

But nothing endures forever
The horizon can be reached
Wine ceases improving
Quality declines
Remains rot
Fire burns away
Metal tarnishes or gathers rust
Adamantine cleaves and turns to dust

(Kedge) Keats
2 Jan 1999

Sparkle

Heaven’s melancholy
A teardrop dries
A goddess’ tears, held here

From deep darkness to open light
Taken from the pit of night
Precious value concealed
From all but a seeking eye

Whatever the substance
No matter the cut
All brilliance is worth naught
In the dark, in a box,
Not one quid, not one buck

What beauty is there with no eyes to admire?
What value is there with no heart to desire?
What is a sparkle in the absence of light?
Where is the glimmer in the dead of night?

Bring out the gem let it be stole
For in the dark ‘tis no better than coal
Let beauty be admired and value desired
For while a thing of beauty lasts forever
Beauty is wasted if appreciated never

Keats
03-08-09