Biographia Literaria

“Our faulty elder poets sacrificed the passion, and passionate flow of poetry, to the subtleties of intellect, and to the starts of wit; the moderns to the glare and glitter of a perpetual, yet broken and heterogenous imagery, or rather to an amphibious something, made up, half of image, and half of abstract meaning. The one sacrificed the heart to the head; the other both heart and head to point and drapery. […] GOOD SENSE is the BODY of poetic genius, FANCY its DRAPERY, MOTION its LIFE, and IMAGINATION the SOUL that is every where, and in each; and forms all into one graceful and intelligent whole.” – Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1772-1834).
 
Burn of the morning fire of light.  
Skinning the earth of paragonite.  

I am a- 
wake to follow 
Thee. 

Pull on a shell of diamond and coal 
Stumble to floor of burial hole.  

I shall be 
braced to follow 
Thee. 

So will I wake, so will I rise,  
So will I offer up my eyes 
Awake to follow thee 

Tapestry’s tear in bin lorry’s jaws.  
Reek of a well; blood bandage and gauze.  

I 
wake to follow 
Thee.  

Pull on a cord the colour of spine.  
Until an answer crawls from the tide,  

one that is  
braced to follow 
Thee.