| Prism Psalms
Posted: 8/7/2007 3:17:28 PM | Glad you enjoyed it, Cd.
:) | |
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| Prism Psalms
Posted: 8/21/2007 5:17:30 PM | Hell
It’s the waking dawn
Of one more cloned day.
It’s rising from a lumpy bed
and putting on hopeless hope:
You know, those little lies
we whisper to ourselves
the night before.
It’s the bathroom mirror
Shouting, “you’re older,
not wiser, not richer,
nothing but a fool!”
It’s that nagging voice
urging us to say,
”I believe!” And we do.
We believe in Santa,
and hard work,
in a three car garage,
and a special someone.
It’s knowing some
have all this,
And the rest of us..,
We believe.... | |
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| Prism Psalms
Posted: 8/28/2007 4:52:07 PM | No Paradox
OK, I'm exasperating, unpredictable,
a self-made chaotic, a sober humorist
seriously intoxicated, both understanding
and ruthless, passionate yet detached,
while honest, evasive, a laughing Buddha
compassionately thumbing knife's edge.
Look, the world's a scriptless T V show,
where we create our parts or allow others to...
the bell tolls for those acting another's dream.
I pledge allegiance to art,
holding this truth to be self-evident:
we create our identity, and need not
conform to conformity or non-conformity.
Ours is the right to be
characteristically uncharacteristic.
Yea though I walk through the valley
of the shadow of peers, I shall fear
no pressure, for poetry shall comfort me. | |
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| Prism Psalms
Posted: 9/8/2007 7:41:40 AM | Feast
I send her kisses
through the wind,
her puckered lips
capture each one
as she spirals
down the walk
and disappears
into brick building.
Tonight I will
capture her lips
upon mine--
in that special
feast lovers taste! | |
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| Prism Psalms
Posted: 11/2/2007 5:42:36 PM | Falling Angels
I
And the world’s afire,
flames kissing life
like backseat lovers—
the TV drones,
“One moment, please.”
Lingering like smoke’s ghost,
thoughts caress the meaningless
melodrama of everyday
existence—embers
burning to ash…
Hoping for this electronic
opium to quench
the consuming thoughts
of an angel falling
though my dreams.
Embers turn to ash…
Her form haunts me.
To praise her eyes,
her lips cultivates
an exotic plant
in a spares soil,
one needing a loam
richer than a whispered
whim, its care
careful, if roots
are to hug dark earth.
Embers smolder in ash.
II
Yes, at times I cursed
capricious gods and
their unholy quest—
that vision always
a finger’s breadt
beyond grasp.
Listen, I rage no more.
From castle high my
angel lights my path.
And patiently as wind
brushing against stone,
until only foundation remains,
I quest toward my angel,
my grail until our lives
entwine and our embrace
shall sear the night!
III
The thrill of nascent passion,
with its longing glances
and legs brushing beneath tables
season our days with that fantastic
hope to become reality: its dancing
on the precipice, praying
the edge holds, knowing
it could crumble and we’d
tumble like angels into the abyss
which race our hearts
like deer fleeing hunters:
a moment from hell,
a moment from heaven—
it the long night of existence,
a moment of living…..
IV
When we’re apart a second crawls by,
and the wind sings no more
but squalls like a bobcat
on a blood trail.
I miss your smile and easy laughter,
the sound of your voice,
soft as fox’s coat
and your fragrance—
what bee knows a perfume more sweet
than a man with a woman in love?
V
Were I king and you, my Salome,
more than John’s head
would adorn your silver platter,
and if I don’t utter “I love you”
enough, forgive me, for I do!
When winter snaps and snarls
Or the loneliness aches
bone deep, I’ll hold you,
and we’ll rock until
dawn sunders the night. | |
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| Prism Psalms
Posted: 11/12/2007 4:19:20 AM | | Re: Falling Angels: There are lines in this that are truly on fire and throughout it your beautiful singing voice! | |
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| Prism Psalms
Posted: 11/16/2007 2:07:40 PM | Thank you, Jer!
I'm hoping school mellows out soon so I can do some more fiery lines.
:) | |
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| Prism Psalms
Posted: 12/30/2007 8:30:33 PM | Lullaby
Lull me to sleep,
hold me close
in the comfort
of silence,
no words,
no questions,
being together
in the middle
of life's raging
storm, a place
of quiet peace,
connected
in that special
way which words
would hinder; holding
being held, rocking
each other through
night's sorrow,
in the moment,
hoping to forget,
for just a moment
all the pain
of being alive. | |
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| Prism Psalms
Posted: 1/27/2008 1:10:15 PM | The Kiss
No shame feel I
for this most envied
kiss! But joy!
Let others weep
at knowing we
sate our desire
in lips tracing
the lingering lines
of each other's
mouth, of arms
and hands entwined
about each other's
bodies; in this
our kiss, we find
the lingering longing
brought to its surcease--
we, in this, passion
play have found what
all others desire most:
that special someone
with whom to bond!
Let them envy--these
who agonize in solitary
fear. Or let them hope
that they too will
find lips so sweet
to caress all
through the night! | |
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| Prism Psalms
Posted: 1/27/2008 2:08:35 PM | Although the greater part of this is written with your customary grace, there are a couple of lines that surely threaten the renewal of your poetic license! To wit:
what
all others desire most:
that special someone
with whom to bond!
And this:
find lips so sweet
to caress all
through the night!
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| Prism Psalms
Posted: 1/28/2008 6:48:03 PM | Egad! My License? Could I apply for a learner's permit?
You're quite right, Jer. I ought to cut those lines from the poem--it would read much better. I appreciate the feedback! Well, back to the revision grindstone.
:) | |
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| Prism Psalms
Posted: 1/29/2008 4:51:30 AM | I admire your lack of defensiveness. Here's a link to some guys reciting Yeats accompanied by an array of photos of The Master: http://ca.youtube.com/watch?v=-BDTMo-yIrw
which led me to begin a poem:
Was there ever a more sculptured face?
A face better suited to a poet
or a tragic scientist?
And this is the url for a site I participate in where you would find some fine poets, e.g. firefangled, thefifthelement, ampoule: http://www.online-literature.com/forums/ | |
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| Prism Psalms
Posted: 1/29/2008 4:57:38 AM | :( *sniffle*
You forgotted 'bout me.
:( | |
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| Prism Psalms
Posted: 2/1/2008 5:36:42 PM | Thank you, Jer. When things slow down I'll check out the site.
Glad to see they Yeats you into some verse of your own!
:)
And cdn, you know he didn't forget you! | |
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| Prism Psalms
Posted: 2/2/2008 3:56:57 AM | I did get Yeatsed into writing this once, a long, long time ago:
THREE FOR W.B. YEATS
One
He was not the wild singer
we took him for, but a man
age and longing
drove half-mad.
The sweet black letters
of his trade
came cranky
sometimes to the page
until he learned,
with a boy's young rage,
that an old man's grief
is to be made a sage.
Two
--Someone who shifted syllables
around a page, practising
the rhymester's trade.
A simple game for a man to play.
While the world around him
traded more difficult things:
murder for love and truth
for deceit.
The world could be changed
(and remain the same)
but not by syllables
upon a page.
The worst men, in its stolid way,
the world to raging madness tames.
The best men
play the simplest games.
Three
Although he had the purest diction
he was just a man, mortal,
his voice
produced in the voice-box of the mind
or heart, trying to find
words to speak against the dark
of Ireland's trouble and the bleat
and roar of trouble in the blood,
rehearsing the common flood
that God might call on him
to speak about, or some
familiar stranger, met by the side
of the road, who would ask
of him, and of you:
What of the night? What of
the night? | |
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| Prism Psalms
Posted: 2/8/2008 2:52:22 PM | I suspect Yeats would most heartily agree--especially as you've captured his tensions between the aesthetic and the common: that line from Crazy Jane comes to mind--the pitching love's tent in excrement. The contrasts are what make your Yeats' poems work so well.
:) | |
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| Prism Psalms
Posted: 2/9/2008 4:26:32 AM | | I'm profoundly grateful for your appreciation of this. I'm so much in awe of Yeats that I trembled at my presumption in even naming a poem after him. | |
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| Prism Psalms
Posted: 2/9/2008 11:21:36 AM | I understand! He is my favorite poet and maybe it's my bias but I think he maybe the greatest poet in the English language since Shakespeare.
:) | |
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| Prism Psalms
Posted: 2/9/2008 1:45:08 PM | | I'm inclined to think so too, but considering the differences in the time and the modes in which they wrote, it is difficult indeed to compare or rank them against each other. Shakespeare is the greatest in category a) and William Butler in category b). | |
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| Prism Psalms
Posted: 2/15/2008 9:22:29 PM | | Yep, I keep going back to those two and some of Eliot and Blake. Sure there are a few other poets/poems I enjoy but those 4 haunt me. | |
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| Prism Psalms
Posted: 5/11/2008 2:11:50 PM | Still rough but the direction I want to take Prism next.
:)
Ode
Oh, how I desire
your desire--your
sweet lips pressed
to mine--hands
caressing and pressing
and exploring as lips
and lingering tongue
glide and slide down
the lovely lines
and curves from neck
to navel from breast
to bum--tasting
and tonguing till
my true love comes! | |
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| Prism Psalms
Posted: 5/31/2008 2:52:48 AM | | By all means, take this in any damn direction you want - it'll still be marvellous, lyrical poetry! | |
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