criticaloversite

Wednesday. That means it's poetry day 'round these parts, dun'nit?

Here's one of my faves by Aldous Huxley, a man who I'm sure needs no introduction.

Darkness

My close-walled soul has never known
That innermost darkness, dazzling sight,
Like the blind point, whence the visions spring
In the core of the gazer's chrysolite
The mystic darkness that laps God's throne
In a splendour beyond imagining,
So passing bright.

But the many twisted darknesses
That range the city to and fro,
In aimless subtlety pass and part
And ebb and glutinously flow;
Darkness of lust and avarice,
Of the crippled body and the crooked heart
These darknesses I know.