Prokosch, Dr Frederic - Chosen Poems – from War of Nerves
Type of Spiritual Experience
A description of the experience
Some lie on the tennis lawn, some on the edge of a brook,
Others walk through landscapes with a compass or a book,
A few sit in the arbour, studying the deformities of words:
Grief carries them away
As they pore from day to day
Over old Scottish legends or the markings of rare birds.
The mannequin sips at her green liqueur glass on the beach,
The student crosses the plaza preparing a brilliant speech;
The ballerina plunges the calming needle into her arm,
Night after hopeless night.
Stabbing the real delight,
Stabbing whatever once was real and plentiful and warm………….
Green, iridescent flies gather upon the rosy fruit,
The black snouted telephone is an emblem of pursuit,
The postman’s knock becomes a prelude to disaster;
The boats in the little bay
Move slowly, slowly away
While the delicate mad wheels are turning faster and faster