What is this one all about?  Is it a poem?

Well if at the heart of a poem is a mystery. If it awakens something or makes your hair stand on end, if it prods and pokes at your feelings – either in a disconcerting way or a reassuring way – why then it must be a poem of some kind.

I remember Dylan once saying to a BBC Arena presenter who had asked him where his songs came from, ‘I don’t know I just write ‘em.’

‘But why do you write ‘em?’ he was pressed. ‘’Cos nobody says you can’t!’ he replied.

…

I am divider

provider

reconciler

and scourge

Realisation of form

dissemblance of matter

is all my business

and the antitheses of these

my hidden pleasures

It is I scatters bright ultramarine

before the prow of ships

makes ruddy the rim of Helios

commands the green canopy unfurl

I am Salome in March

Narcissus in May

Midas in Autumn

and Charon

constantly

Conductor of all transformations

I am the bark of transformation itself

I languish in bile and phlegm

ooze in saliva and salt

career in the eye

the testes

nestle in the ovary

and the egg

I am the cradle of protoplasm

and the infant’s destroyer

As for the Sun

I am the clandestine lover

consumed by his distant inferno

at his behest I serve

the Moon’s quiet longing

for continual sacrifice

It is I that moves all solidity to flux

all flux to mass

I weld the steely stalactite

to his lesser cousin

blast iron bridges

proud cities and civilisations

to traceless ruination

To those of you who would concur

I will be as remorseless with your conceit

as those who would demur

and I shall be equally remorseless

with the dead

when they awaken

I am

before the induction of language

and when the torrents of meaninglessness subside

it is I shall preside

over the grand silence

Can you see me

entrap me with your senses

if  you can

I will be Proteus

if  you will

That is a beginning

Who am I

?

…

Need a clue?  Try this!