' Sleepless Poet '
by Thaddeus Hutyra 

What a thrilling Wrath of God was it 
in the very blackness of the night
turned to a luminous whiteness from time to time !!
Hail, hail and hail, pellets of frozen rain
falling in showers from cumulonimbus clouds
all of them of the size of tennis balls
In the very Summer. Was it not appalling ?!
They were falling from the dark abyss of the sky
which was wholly overwhelmed by stormy clouds
being shown in all their royal majesty 
every time the lightnings zigzagged
across the vast spaces of heavenly space
followed by new, powerful thunderstorms
a dance of the lightnings and thunderstorms, indeed
and of the hailstorm changing the sceneries
of New York City constantly, the whole long night

In that deepness of the super stormy night
a poet was sitting at the window
of his apartment, just opposite MoMa
the Museum of Modern Art on 53rd Street
This museum of the adamantine ladies
looked extremely ghostly in the stormy night
The street was covered by many levels 
of balls of hails upon hails, shining, glittering
reflecting lots of amaranthine light
in the city lights and at storm's lightnings 
as if they were some real diamonds 
miraculously spread all over the place
some ambers, emeralds and pearls
all the other precious stones one could imagine
and the modern civilizations were mad for

Oh, you the true poet, the poet of New York City
reach for a pen, your scintillating wand
and a starlit starship capable to travel
across vast universes upon universes
and the inner worlds where our souls stay
Change this world, dear poet of New York City
for a better one, more human, cherishing freedoms
May the celestial symphony adds music of liberation
to all your efforts, my dear poet of New York 
Oh, phantoms, phantoms, my beloved phantoms
phantoms of the Universe and phantoms of this Earth
phantoms of the Day and of the Night
phantoms of poetry, of arts, of creation
phantoms of love, of desire, of heart
Inspire this poet, bring him to the tops 
of his creative skills and let him create 
amaranthine masterpiece of sparkling poetry
bring then this on the tray before the very God
Appease Him. No more Wrath of God !!

There was lots of rain water which was streaming 
down the typical New York City windows 
sometimes seeming to be dark red 
as if blood of innocents were spurting out
somewhere else in the wider world
being projected for New Yorkers
The lightnings in the blackness of the night
looked so incredibly surrealistic
as if this was some outer world
Yet they were real ones, and photogenic
as if they were phantoms of the light
phantoms of the ghost, or soul on the lose 
phantoms of the night and of the dance
whatever other scintillating phantoms
having their fun in the blackness of the night

The poet remembered what Barack Obama said
when commenting on Russian actions in Crimea
The days of empires taking on their smaller nations
were definitely over, not acceptable, never again
America shall never allow the ghosts of the past
to take over the twenty first century
desired to be a century of justice for all
of flourishing freedoms and of democratic ideals
It was a remark clearly stated against Putin
the guy who thought he could do anything
what he wanted, in a clear disregard
of the world's dream, wish and determination
to move beyond all the evils of the past
and spread freedoms and light of liberty
across the entire troubled globe, needing this much

Oh, you the true poet, the poet of New York City
reach for a pen, your scintillating wand
and a starlit starship capable to travel
across vast universes upon universes
and the inner worlds where our souls stay
Change this world, dear poet of New York City
for a better one, more human, cherishing freedoms
May the celestial symphony adds music of liberation
to all your efforts, my dear poet of New York 
Oh, phantoms, phantoms, my beloved phantoms
phantoms of the Universe and phantoms of this Earth
phantoms of the Day and of the Night
phantoms of poetry, of arts, of creation
phantoms of love, of desire, of heart
Inspire this poet, bring him to the tops 
of his creative skills and let him create 
amaranthine masterpiece of sparkling poetry
bring then this on the tray before the very God
Appease Him. No more Wrath of God !!

The lightnings went on, a dance of the hailstorm
in the blackness of the phantoms' night
Phantoms of the ghost, of the dance
appeared from time to time, disappearing then
The poet was still sitting at the window
watching all those phenomenons of nature
fascinated especially by the lightnings on the sky
and the Wrath of God, so visible
Just this night, in the blackness of the night
everything seemed to have come to life
the thunderous lightnings waking them up
waking up even all the ghosts hidden so far
within the walls of the Museum of the Modern Art
just across the street. How phenomenal !!
Whatever there was in rushed cheerfully outside
to celebrate their unchained freedom
while the Wrath of God on human kind went on

The poet looked like hypnotized at this museum
and couldn't believe at all what he saw
It must have been Beethoven's Appassionata
transformed into figurative display
of all those famous masterpieces of art
on the parade to please God and dancing angels
the Virgins of Avignon by Pablo Picasso
the Bather of Paul Cézanne
the Starry Night by Vincent van Gogh
the Seed of the Areoi by Paul Gauguin
the Sleeping Gypsy by Henri Rousseau
God, so many wonders, all eternal ones
The poet couldn't really take his eyes away
from all those wonders upon wonders of human hand

Oh, you the true poet, the poet of New York City
reach for a pen, your scintillating wand
and a starlit starship capable to travel
across vast universes upon universes
and the inner worlds where our souls stay
Change this world, dear poet of New York City
for a better one, more human, cherishing freedoms
May the celestial symphony adds music of liberation
to all your efforts, my dear poet of New York 
Oh, phantoms, phantoms, my beloved phantoms
phantoms of the Universe and phantoms of this Earth
phantoms of the Day and of the Night
phantoms of poetry, of arts, of creation
phantoms of love, of desire, of heart
Inspire this poet, bring him to the tops 
of his creative skills and let him create 
amaranthine masterpiece of sparkling poetry
bring then this on the tray before the very God
Appease Him. No more Wrath of God !!

The poet rushed through his messy apartment
messy in a positive way cos it was artistic mess
He picked up his Johnny Walker and rushed back
to be a witness to things larger than life
There was the Man with a Guitar by Georges Braque
the Dance by Henri Matisse, the Dream by Henri Rousseau
Pablo Picasso's Boy Leading a Horse 
Broadway Boogie-Woogie by Piet Mondrian
Gold Marilyn Monroe by Andy Warhol
Thousands of tinkling and twinkling art masterpieces
given their chance to live their night
while the round formed hails were bouncing
from windows to windows, landing then
on each other on the street, with multiple levels 
shining like the Earthly stars vice heavenly stars
every time thunderstorms were followed 
by the God's lightnings across the stormy skies

The poet didn't really need much time 
to get firmly embraced by overwhelming euphory
He just stood up and began to dance
to the tunes of the thrilling piercing thunderstorms 
and laser alike lancinating lightnings
the celestial symphony of the skies
adding himself to the maddening dance
of all the phantoms gathered in the street
the phantoms of the night, phantoms of the dance
phantoms of the ghost, of love, of heart
of desire even, phantoms of life
whatever other phantoms larger than life
He, the poet became himself a phantom
dancing maddeningly in his apartment
till he collapsed and has fallen down onto the floor
his silhouette reflected for a moment 
in the skyline of the New York City's skies
and accentuated as much by a new celestial lightning

Oh, you the true poet, the poet of New York City
reach for a pen, your scintillating wand
and a starlit starship capable to travel
across vast universes upon universes
and the inner worlds where our souls stay
Change this world, dear poet of New York City
for a better one, more human, cherishing freedoms
May the celestial symphony adds music of liberation
to all your efforts, my dear poet of New York 
Oh, phantoms, phantoms, my beloved phantoms
phantoms of the Universe and phantoms of this Earth
phantoms of the Day and of the Night
phantoms of poetry, of arts, of creation
phantoms of love, of desire, of heart
Inspire this poet, bring him to the tops 
of his creative skills and let him create 
amaranthine masterpiece of sparkling poetry
bring then this on the tray before the very God
Appease Him. No more Wrath of God !!

' Sleepless Poet ' by Thaddeus Hutyra
Copyright©Thaddeus Hutyra
All Rights Reserved

e-mail: tadekhutyra@hotmail.com
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