various themes, some romantic
Poem 1
behold the jagged city
into autumn skies self-casting
like so many monoliths.
with cool ecliptic shadows
you mock your very makers
half-hidden dregs, and shameless
bourgeois flouters; of guilded futures
present pawners; heavilly suited and
angular, whose borrowed spirits
blunt lifes keen edge.
but, oh, that azure-amber sky,
upon horizons violently streaming
winds whipping wildly, the varied leaves
fall; chocking gleeful childrens'faces
while well tilled harvest fields
below, burst with expectation
campaigning geese are bound, like pearls,
upon your dragon breezes; winging through
a lush studded heaven, fantastic and fiscal,
to their winters' destiny.
poem 2
going to Den's, my
barley guru, on
hydraulic afternoons
ascending sacred spaces to
quaff down mean libations, all
slurring and urination:
retelling threadbare tales of
the ubiquitous past, and
laying waste to time,
we slake our thirst, friend
poem 3
she's ever present in my dreams
and there i give her everything
beneath the waxing moons we beam
in our embraces lingering
we pound to airy thinness birds
that sit upon the golden branch
invoke the autumn muse Keats heard
like Coleridge, slip into a trance
for all the muses utter sighs
in this 'chanted garden bower
they echo through eternity
conjuring a poet-sower
and don't forget that moon, my love
the queen-shine rules the nighttime sky
and there like faith hangs up above
the launcher of amorous eyes
the most sublime love muse of all
she melts with warmth the winters' ice
then welcomes us into her thrall
love-halfing, through time and space
poem 4
though tonsured, you'd be beautiful
a precious gem, so rare, so full
and n'er the monks a happier lot
but pity i that poor abbot
he'd in a pious pickle be:
rectifying latin beauty
transcendent, with their monkish vows
a beatific vision now
in praise of which "the ox" would low
though from his chamber he did chase
a harlot with a fiery mace
Sebastian from his flesh would pluck
the arrows that in it were stuck
and fly to be an attendant
to beauty which his soul did rent
the martyrs would come back to life
but dead would Laz'rus drop with strife
from passion's cross would Christ descend
for with your touch his wounds would mend
that miracles were ceased, 'twas true
'till in the halls i witnessed you
poem 5
i lept the childhood hedge
down wandered by the brook
i overleaned the ledge
in liquid cast my look
witnessed eels a writhing
they frightened me and spoke
i stood a frozen thing
from serpent spells invoked
hard drove the hare before
and lathered, look we stopped
imagined cryptic lore
in heaving breasts and hops
then watched the white tail deer
away from fences dance
deer heard me and in fear
the bounding tail entranced
and i cannot escape
the images they weave
there by the brook agape
the child he cannot leave
the child i often grieve
poem 6
my brother, Rafael
we waited on the lizard stream
and for this, unto sublimity delivered
cast into the very orgy of it
(rare appellations were indeed whispered)
the storied truth was scrolled within
our every breath
what surges we've togethered,
Rafael, my auncient
the times that we've traversed: we two
we too
we to
laying with drowsy headed slumber
while i the unencumbered moments
do bear, like the crawling waters
poem 7
last night i flew to my love
and guarded her jealously
in evening's dust we wrapped us up
in woven nests the birds are hid
what can love be but darling birds
that dart through souls like clouded skies
of cryptic blue eternities
with fleeting wings they wheel and turn
then drop to soar without a sound
hovering there o'er sacred ground
their flutt'ring felt upon your breast
that gentle breeze, an infant breath
a floral scent
poem 8
imagine a back-bay
of gentle temps and strollers
when winking stars and constant lamps
pass secret messages
and "they" pass by in purchase and consumption
neverminding, clinging, kissing
or to lounge over somerville
hardwoods, on plush cushions enthralled,
in the foothills of bliss
some ambient, other-chamber
stereo softly blares
and the rain trickles down perfumed
over dias primavera
while playful choclate pups pull chains
over familiar yards, pausing, wagging
and tulips royal
lord it over suburban gardens
poem 9
a lazy arc of geese
crawls through november
skies, over mostly molten leaves
and mud, above the clinic
later, in night's small hours,
my father's death-song comes
cutting across the window
now we don our mourning attire:
the blood shot sobs and catheters
the soiled sheets and farewells
death colors world with jagged tears
and an ocean of murmuring
with father-sun pierced clouds by tons
of light, is how, death colors world
poem 10
mist shrouded moon
up the pine tree clomb
like a muezzin
through a minnaret
crying to the faithful
while the fev'rish babe
with a heaving breast
and a moistened eye
to the beauty clung
calling something restful
but the motors moaned
as the bikes whizzed by
and the drooping eyes
of the child stayed open
thus was she denied
home
