Tongue Quotes

By mourning tongues The death of the poet was kept from his poems. But for him it was his last afternoon as himself, An afternoon of nurses and rumours; The provinces of his body revolted, The squares of his mind were empty, Silence invaded the suburbs. The current of his feeling failed: he became his admirers. Now he is scattered over a hundred cities And wholly given over to unfamiliar affections; To find his happiness in another kind of wood And be punished under a foreign code of conscience. The words of a dead man are modified in the guts of the living.

Are angels my attendants? Then I should walk worthy of ray companionship. Am I so soon to go and dwell with angels? Then I should be pure. Are these feet so soon to tread the courts of heaven? Is this tongue so soon to unite with heavenly beings in praising God? Are these eyes so soon to look on the throne of eternal glory, and on the ascended Redeemer? Then these feet and eyes and lips should be pure and holy; and I should be dead to the world, and live for heaven.

Dont you pretend that im not alive my bones never ache unless shes nearby where is your face in a safe of dead tongues i can see your reflection in your totem first born i suspect youve been carrying a pack of wolves i regret not killing you while i had the chance maybe i will always haunt you mark the somnolence with truth better hang your dead palace than have a living home to lose in the river ganges god damns my name dont let these hands sharpen your eyes a rasp of tails







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