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    This Thing That Throbs and Thrives in Me PDF

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    Frank Feldman
    A rhyming in quatrains which explores the mundane, the spiritual, the metaphysical, waking, sleep, and dream.

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    This Thing That Throbs and Thrives in Me PDF

    Uploaded by

    Frank Feldman
    76 views2 pages
    A rhyming in quatrains which explores the mundane, the spiritual, the metaphysical, waking, sleep, and dream.

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    This thing that throbs and thrives in me (PDF)

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    A rhyming in quatrains which explores the mundane, the spiritual, the metaphysical, waking, sleep, and dream.

    Copyright:

    Attribution Non-Commercial (BY-NC)
    Download as PDF, TXT or read online from Scribd
    Download as pdf or txt
    76 views2 pages

    This Thing That Throbs and Thrives in Me PDF

    Uploaded by

    Frank Feldman
    A rhyming in quatrains which explores the mundane, the spiritual, the metaphysical, waking, sleep, and dream.

    Copyright:

    Attribution Non-Commercial (BY-NC)
    Download as PDF, TXT or read online from Scribd
    Download as pdf or txt
    of 2

    This thing that throbs and thrives in me-Poetry of Frank Feldman, p. 1 of 2 pp.

    Frank Feldman 10 Burnham Place Fair Lawn, NJ 07410 201.796.9296 [email protected]

    This thing that throbs and thrives in me


    This thing that throbs and thrives in me Throbs and thrives in you, And it will throb and thrive and be alive Long after we are through. It hounds and drives us through the day, And dreams us through the nightThough we rejoice and we despair, It only feels delight. It exults in the births of fiery stars, And everything thats newBut it laughs and revels in their deaths, as well, And in our last gasps, too. It does not think or feel or dream In wakefulness or sleepIt throbs and thrives in ecstasy, Mindless, drunk, and deep. This thing knows not itself at all, As you dont, truly, eitherAnd though you suffer storm and stress, It experiences neither. Have you ever straddled the cusp of sleep, Drained of all resistance? With your ear cupped close to the railroad track, The whistle of the train in the distance?

    This thing that throbs and thrives in me-Poetry of Frank Feldman, p. 2 of 2 pp.

    That train is bearing you and me, Along with all creationThough it shrieks and shivers as it runs the rails, It seeks no destination. By day, we tramp down beaten paths With all the other fools, Wrapped in gauze, disemboweled, And mummified by rules. We fret our little lives away, Dancing on a pin, But in dream, this thing that throbs and thrives Recalls where it has been. For in our dreams and fantasies, We encounter what we areDestined to be dissolved in primeval chaos, And reborn inside a star.

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