by Tom Mcmurray

Created on: August 19, 2009

How scenic is phrenetic fantasy
Which fulminates within the manic mind
Yet hides inside synoptic revelry,
Articulated, yes, but hard to find?

The minor absolution one demands
From higher born authority than self
Is often found in foreign sounding lands
Or on the box well hidden on the shelf.

The madness of the mad though sad is not
Without a nod transcendent, in a way;
Which forces Joyce to ponder over plot
And not what punctuation to display.

Now take your time and read Ulysses first,
Before the Wake of Finnegan is shown;
For Finnegan becomes eternal thirst
Where cognitive resolve remains unknown.

Now bitter battles still are fought with fire
In hallowed halls of higher learning fame
Where academic's fight against desire
To elevate James Joyce's brilliant name.

Finnegan's Wake can make a man go mad;
Incomprehensible at best some say.
Such genius has a way of causing sad
Reverberations all along the way.

So read a Portrait of the Artist first
Then add Ulysses if you have the need;
But Finnegan's Wake? Unquenchable thirst!
A book to blow your brain and make it bleed.

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