Thursday, October 19, 2017

Heath Brougher writes

Moments Floating at the Speed of Universal Life

There are enough bells in life.
Breaking all of them would take enough time to put everyone
in a frantic stupor of constant ringing. Vibrating 
moments would sink into our skin. We would fly
by light, through age, to arrive
in front of a crumbled mountain
and weep to ourselves in a wealth of worthlessness
of the frittered possibilities of bygone years—
no song could issue from this regret—only the song of silence
so long and monotonous that we’d scream
our own songs off into space they’d drift
until they pounded their blaring audibility
against a distant monument who would see us
through their lens at such an early age they’d never thought
they’d end up finding us all dead in a desolate field. 

 TThe Sound of Crystal Bells --  Nguyen Dinh Dang


  1. The Bells

    Hear the sledges with the bells --
    Silver bells!
    What a world of merriment their melody foretells!
    How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle,
    In the icy air of night!
    While the stars that oversprinkle
    All the heavens, seem to twinkle
    With a crystalline delight;
    Keeping time, time, time,
    In a sort of Runic rhyme,
    To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells
    From the bells, bells, bells, bells,
    Bells, bells, bells --
    From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells.


    Hear the mellow wedding bells
    Golden bells!
    What a world of happiness their harmony foretells!
    Through the balmy air of night
    How they ring out their delight!
    From the molten-golden notes,
    And all in tune,
    What a liquid ditty floats
    To the turtle-dove that listens, while she gloats
    On the moon!
    Oh, from out the sounding cells,
    What a gush of euphony voluminously wells!
    How it swells!
    How it dwells
    On the Future! how it tells
    Of the rapture that impels
    To the swinging and the ringing
    Of the bells, bells, bells,
    Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,
    Bells, bells, bells --
    To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells!


    Hear the loud alarum bells --
    Brazen bells!
    What tale of terror, now, their turbulency tells!
    In the startled ear of night
    How they scream out their affright!
    Too much horrified to speak,
    They can only shriek, shriek,
    Out of tune,
    In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire,
    In a mad expostulation with the deaf and frantic fire,
    Leaping higher, higher, higher,
    With a desperate desire,
    And a resolute endeavor
    Now -- now to sit or never,
    By the side of the pale-faced moon.
    Oh, the bells, bells, bells!
    What a tale their terror tells
    Of Despair!
    How they clang, and clash, and roar!
    What a horror they outpour
    On the bosom of the palpitating air!
    Yet the ear, it fully knows,
    By the twanging,
    And the clanging,
    How the danger ebbs and flows;
    Yet, the ear distinctly tells,
    In the jangling,
    And the wrangling,
    How the danger sinks and swells,
    By the sinking or the swelling in the anger of the bells --
    Of the bells --
    Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,
    Bells, bells, bells --
    In the clamour and the clangour of the bells!

  2. IV.

    Hear the tolling of the bells --
    Iron bells!
    What a world of solemn thought their monody compels!
    In the silence of the night,
    How we shiver with affright
    At the melancholy meaning of their tone!
    For every sound that floats
    From the rust within their throats
    Is a groan.
    And the people -- ah, the people --
    They that dwell up in the steeple,
    All alone,
    And who, tolling, tolling, tolling,
    In that muffled monotone,
    Feel a glory in so rolling
    On the human heart a stone --
    They are neither man nor woman --
    They are neither brute nor human --
    They are Ghouls: --
    And their king it is who tolls;
    And he rolls, rolls, rolls, rolls,
    A paean from the bells!
    And his merry bosom swells
    With the paean of the bells!
    And he dances, and he yells;
    Keeping time, time, time,
    In a sort of Runic rhyme,
    To the paean of the bells --
    Of the bells:
    Keeping time, time, time,
    In a sort of Runic rhyme,
    To the throbbing of the bells --
    Of the bells, bells, bells --
    To the sobbing of the bells;
    Keeping time, time, time,
    As he knells, knells, knells,
    In a happy Runic rhyme,
    To the rolling of the bells --
    Of the bells, bells, bells --
    To the tolling of the bells,
    Of the bells, bells, bells, bells --
    Bells, bells, bells --
    To the moaning and the groaning of the bells.

    --Edgar Allan Poe


Join the conversation! What is your reaction to the post?