Here I present another ‘erasure’ poem, so-called. But considering the source text, two paragraphs from the ‘Conclusion’ of the Victorian writer Walter Pater’s The Renaissance: Studies in Art and Poetry (1877), the use of the word ‘erasure’ feels something like a desecration. Who am I to ‘erase’ another writer’s exquisite prose in favour of my own dubious effort? I think calling it ‘mined’ poetry ie. composed of the gems one might ‘extract’ from a text, seems more fitting, more respectful. Of course, it’s the readers who will decide whether that is the case.
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<from Walter Pater’s Conclusion to The Renaissance: Studies in Art and Poetry>
Spirit rouses life.
Every moment grows the sea,
experience the end.
Pulses given to us
pass swiftly, present always—
a pure gemlike flame.
Failure is habits,
a stereotyped world the rough eye.
We may well grasp a lifted horizon,
a stirring of dyes, hands,
the face of one’s friend.
Not to is to sleep before evening—
splendour unregarded, sacrificed.

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