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Apr 2018 · 168
A Friendly Word
Dawnstar Apr 2018
A friendly word is wise:
It bears no silken string,
And everyone is glad
To hear it echoing.

A cautious word is prey
To will’s supreme intent;
And lacking any strength,
It makes a man relent.

The emblem of your heart
Is blazoned on your smile;
The wretch and dissolute
Have vanished for a while.

So freely give good will
To friend and stranger each;
Then virtuous reward
Will be within your reach.
Mar 2018 · 232
Moon River
Dawnstar Mar 2018
I sit, I wish
    for the glistening moon pools
          to sprinkle down my way.
                 Dreamy starry sky,
                    and the soft combing breeze
                      sings sweet lullabies
                    to the indigo trees.
              Sing the same to me,
           and I'll go where you go;
            river so wide,
          wider's my window!

           Now dance as you've done
        so many times before;
      embrace the morning sun's
       broad rays on your shore.
                                                         Far banks shall appear
                                                 with the coming of April,
                                               and strike out I will
                                            through the dusty rock passes
                                       through mountains of yellow
                                      and bridges of gold -- until
                                          I gain the city of friends,
                                             lamplights and streetlights
                                                    ­   and buslights and doors
                                                           ­       will be closed.

                                                        ­Gone, then, are the wishes
                                                 and wonders and wants,
                                      the things that I hoped for
                              a long time ago.

                     The trill of the strings
                           (my only respite
                                from keen madness
                                      or a tantō
                                      to wish me goodnight)
                                 rises on palm-tops,
                            floats in cool grasses,
                       gives purpose my soul.
                                  So much peace I find
                                     in warm charming moonlight....

                             Tomorrow, concern may put your course
                                       on a laxed and lumberous way,
                                  great river of the dying day,
                          but as long as my will goes on,
           and the wonderful will of the Maker,
     those fleet-footed brigands
won't catch me, for I am
      faster than they are.

...Calming storm,
     you stirrer and squeezer,
       present most of the time that I need you:
                Set my mind,
                   for all its vain attempts;
               make me relent,
                 and I won't deceive you.
                        Till then, I'll be leaving you soon,
                            but know my April blush
                               is the same color as in June,
                              and the fabric of all that I hope for
                            is the cloth of the comforting moon.
Mar 2018 · 138
inelegant expression
Dawnstar Mar 2018
I hate my mouth
when it spits
each impulse
of the lazy brain,
but you I envy
so much, because
you take that dreaming
and make it pleasing
and pure. and worth.
and I can’t do that....
that’s the way I want to turn.
all my words make little sense,
even these are like the rest,
even these I want to burn.
insecurities about my own poetry, as well as my thoughts, words, and ways I express myself in real life.
Mar 2018 · 221
Carlsbad Haiku
Dawnstar Mar 2018
thinkers champion
Viennese democracy;
students not impressed
(Haiku 5)
Mar 2018 · 191
eleven
Dawnstar Mar 2018
careful glance
sun shadows my plate
hope rush by
(Haiku 4)
Mar 2018 · 189
rich peasant
Dawnstar Mar 2018
rich peasant
pockets bare, heart full
love is gold
(Haiku 3)
Mar 2018 · 173
i miss you valentine
Dawnstar Mar 2018
four seasons
pass in one long month
salt aches cheeks
(Haiku 2)
Mar 2018 · 151
Melancholy
Dawnstar Mar 2018
My with'ring will is like a willow:
With ev'ry wistful week, I weep,
And I but weakly wet my pillow.
Mar 2018 · 522
War
Dawnstar Mar 2018
War
From north to south, in every province hence,
A shout rings out, a call to arms—and war:
That snake which slithers silent o'er the fence,
Shall swallow swift this ancient land once more.
As rough the beating of the battle drum,
Still rougher are the hands of men who ****;
Though noble cowards scruple to succumb,
Too oft are they dismissed for men who will.
Let rivers red run over tranquil fields,
And stain the hands of peasant, peer, and priest,
Till foes who've wronged us either die or yield,
Then only will this nation scorned know peace.
This way, I guess a billion souls or more
Have fallen victim to barbaric war.
Mar 2018 · 155
Crestfallen
Dawnstar Mar 2018
Crestfallen, cantering
down stumble avenue,
my lucky fountain was
outpouring youth.
About-face! I crafted
a curious inquiry,
endeavoring slyly
the avoidance of truth.
And then I walked on by.
Was it my worthless wince
that made you
hardly deign to reply?

My stomach oft knotted,
ink blotted, but you are
faultless and guiltless of
waxing and waning my
hopeless forlorn hope, my
bellowing attrition,
glazed over in glory,
trampled delicately
with innocent fashion.
Swordsmen leaping over
your bright scarlet ramparts;
wordsmen, in a white gift
resonating outward;
they hinted that my dream,
laced up in slack linen,
was daring enough for
your showered attentions.
...But only for a while.

In Scandinavia's oceanbound counterpart,
a sickly vested boy grafted his life into yours;
now empathetic reminiscence recalls
dry desert days 'neath a cloudless sphere,
as war ripped apart your homeland.
Among all the hubbub of upheaval unfamiliar,
tell me, you who are more worldly,
if I mean anything to you?
Mar 2018 · 579
molecularite
Dawnstar Mar 2018
i like very much the sound of
my bones beneath your bones—
although comparatively softer
than mine—still made from
protons and neutrons and electrons,
all deservingly placed
in their element.
i like bonding with you,
and bridging the black crevasse;
hold me warm,
so i'll forget how
water feels in solid form.
Updated Jul. 15, 2019.
Feb 2018 · 117
bubbling
Dawnstar Feb 2018
bubbling,
babbling,
brookling,
i'm charting a course
for your sundries.
take it upon me --
no --
take it upon yourself
to watch me glide,
and fall,
and smack into a tree-
Ow! (watch out, George!)
that jungle stung,
but a tree's like
a ladder rung
as a tambourine
is just a drum.
now by my preaching
don't get irate;
we're not supposed
to gyrate.
Feb 2018 · 114
i want
Dawnstar Feb 2018
i want, said
a man
satisfaction got he immediate
day got he quick
without going through
dawn, got the lift up
skyward, never had
to work for a piece
so all men know
he's standing pat.

please,
another man said
was halted
found himself crumpled
broken-ribbed on her
fleshy bottomglass
stretched out
squished insectly
half of him went
with her, she reveled
in his missing half
slow pining gusts
they shook
and trembled
they whimpered beneath
a disgrace that was enough
to call himself counseled
but not enough
to call himself
a man.
Feb 2018 · 59
take me, filled with
Dawnstar Feb 2018
take me
        to fountains,
filled with
        your health,
        and I'll
take me
        a sip
        and be
filled with
        your wealth!
Feb 2018 · 87
rock was never me
Dawnstar Feb 2018
rock was never me
and neither was
it has always been
Feb 2018 · 201
sleep
Dawnstar Feb 2018
it appears,
broadly blending consciousness
and the pitter-patter
of rhythmic rain,
and I don't feel it, but
eight hours later I pass
from its watchful gaze.
Feb 2018 · 127
may you flow ever longingly
Dawnstar Feb 2018
may you flow ever longingly,
sweet purple stream, carve
a canyon
through my barren valley,
while i stir up the galaxy
and moon for you.
Feb 2018 · 109
Nunc et semper
Dawnstar Feb 2018
I haven't a way
to repay,
I say,
to match the bright
and glorious day
that forever washed
my sins away,
for now and for all time.

And each and every
blessing hence,
I've found no need
to recompense;
for now, my heart
lies on the fence,
for now and for all time.

All I'm asked
is what I have:
what constitutes more
than I need to live;
but what I have,
I refuse to give,
for now and for all time.

So I'm selfish,
so I'm foolish,
so it has been since my birth;
when offered all
the wealth of Heaven,
I value more
the things of Earth.

But if I won't take heed,
and swiftly adjust my creed,
then I'll bear the weight
of lifelong greed,
for now and for all time.
Feb 2018 · 115
Nine Days
Dawnstar Feb 2018
Nine days have left me
hardened and without hope;
giving in to indulgence,
sprinting for the hangman's rope.
Letting threads crush my neck,
cowering gladly in the dirt;
as my poor lungs fill with sweat,
eagerly embracing hurt.

But if I should decide within,
to blindly turn away from sin,
my past be calmed,
my saber drawn,
and warily,
once more,
I'll begin.
Feb 2018 · 106
mellowly air
Dawnstar Feb 2018
mellowly air's so clear:
she is not there;
once she was near.
Feb 2018 · 790
Poetic Afterthought
Dawnstar Feb 2018
Let my past be published now,
I care for it no longer;
Look between my righteous things
To see I was the wronger.
Gather all the worries
I'd fret about in winter;
Shove them off the highest cliff,
Make them crack and splinter.

Traipsing in the gardenside,
Dancing in the hollow;
Feeling for a mason's nook,
Sweet Amontillado.
Down within the castle walls,
Down among the relics;
Bearded faces line the halls,
Lilting in Goidelic.

Slowing pace to stop and smell
Of a strange antiquity;
Thinking on a silver day
That happened once in Brittany.
Countrymen with muskets bared,
Bent on fiery shot,
Pounced upon the zealous rogues
Of Napoleonic lot.

Wand'ring mind, drop your guard,
Stop your nagging ways;
Hark! the drap'ry's bold aura
Welcomes warmer days.
Happiness is fleeting,
Sadness is extinct,
So let my every passing thought
Be mindful and succinct.
Updated Jul. 15, 2019.
Feb 2018 · 508
I Saw a Fly
Dawnstar Feb 2018
I saw a fly
resting weakly on the wall.
I smiled, because I was
feeling the same way.
It made me think of you:
Would you smile at a fly,
and lend a small bit of
deeply sought attention?
Or would you remain aloof?
...If I can greet a fly,
why not others too?
How easily you spread joy
to all that you touch;
I will do the same....
Good morning, fly!
Feb 2018 · 2.6k
I Should Have Smiled
Dawnstar Feb 2018
I should have smiled
when I entered,
dusted like a corner table
with flakes of Maine ash:
grandiose visions of what
I sought to be.
Passing long marble rows;
walking briskly to comfort;
ushered in by the chill.
Neighbors might see me,
but I am cold,
so I do not smile.

In the longhouse,
they celebrate man's
dominion over time.
They pluck paper crafts
by their roots,
and fashion a little gift for me.
Oh, I am merry inside,
singing of renewal,
but I'm tired,
so I do not smile.

In open theater,
upon the carbonite stage,
I find myself
balancing on a tightrope,
while the audience roars and jeers.
I could play their games,
and surely they'd accommodate,
but I am bare,
so I do not smile.

Then, I'm out in the quarry,
cutting stone into thirds;
sweating from the hot sun.
A family sits across the way --
see how they laugh with one another!
If I were born
under a different sign,
I might join them;
but as this is my duty,
I do not smile.

No, I'll walk in circles
like the rest.
I'll make certain
the boilers are filled,
without time
for green-speckled wishes,
or chatting with friends,
old and new:
It's up and down
the stairs with you!
...To see that crescent
creeping through
the winter sky
would do my heart well....
There it is,
alight on the trail!
Yet still I do not smile.

On the road to destiny,
stuck behind two sisters on horseback....
If I were free,
I would slow
to hear their pleasant conversation,
but as I'm in a hurry,
I spur my horse onward,
my eyes set straight ahead;
my cloak whips as I pass,
and I do not smile.

At the great meeting of chieftains,
we are all
seated in the hall.
I feel the weight
of approaching weeks,
and the cold desert river
that awaits.
My face rises and falls
like the tide on the Aral Sea.
In soft surprise,
I feel a presence behind me.
Surrounded by circling vultures....
No wonder I hesitate
to expose my flesh.
Sands penetrate my eyelids.
I take a quick glimpse,
but I am watched,
so I do not smile.

Soon, I come upon an oasis.
The water soothes
my parched throat,
and I,
a forager,
dismount.
A hunting party makes camp
on the opposite bank.
I peer out through the shrubs....
Only a simple request
would rescue me,
but I am principled,
so I do not smile.

Watching fish jump by the water,
I long for that fading mornglow,
in tattered pots
and cairns,
by shuttered blinds,
where my emotions were kept.
All my love
is cradled in the shade.
Time moves on with haste,
and I do not smile.

At day's end,
I gather my belongings.
I rush to climb the peaks,
that I might meet her on the path.
Again, my heart lifts!
Her face appears in the distance.
With joy, I walk close to her.
I smile a little,
but does she notice?
How can one day's expression
erase those months of melancholy?
Now, my whole body forces a sigh;
I listen quietly to Otemoyan,
and I do not smile.
Written January 19, 2018.
Edited February 21, 2018.
Feb 2018 · 210
Black Mountains
Dawnstar Feb 2018
Who calls the rains
over black mountains?
Who will tell
the wanderers to stay?
On summer air,
I count thirty clouds....
have they no cause to release?

So happily
they drift on by
in the vast immaterial sky....
Humming a tune
of a life without gloom;
Backs always warm,
gaily, they soar,
thinking, "I could pass
another day
without dropping my rains
on black mountain way."

And so it has been,
and even today,
they spare not a thought;
not a drop falls upon the peaks.
And so it shall be:
Not a drop shall fall on black mountains....
And so it shall be.
A song.
Feb 2018 · 112
Flat-Bellied Sandsurfer
Dawnstar Feb 2018
Flat-bellied sandsurfer:
        Go away from our kingdom!
        We didn't ask for an apology.

Slime-coated worm:
        There is more at stake
        than your pleasure.

Broad-lipped tonguecow:
        Your reckoning is come!
        Now see your deeds brought before you.

We revel in your
faults and failings.
It's refreshing
to hear your
salted wailings,

With
        every
lick
        of the
             knouter's
whip
          upon those naked ceilings.

Blood runs high on Valsabar,
drips down in the
steep valley of cravens –
more news to our ears,
as gravel to our spears,
and our sandal skin
will swallow up
your sand-shriveled
water hut.
Feb 2018 · 746
Two Hunters
Dawnstar Feb 2018
Swelter of summer in the veld.
An old buggy hums along,
Playing a German tune.
The bushbucks scatter from cover.
Roland dismounts; his partner too
Stares out across the thicket sea,
With quavering jaw, puffs his pipe
And slings a hunting gun.
Says he to Roland:
“Here, we are masters of the plain!
In the company of beasts,
We should not be lonely,
Yet my heart cries out
For land and love that I left.”

Roland stamps a dusty rock.
Arms hang freely, eyes sunken low.
His bronzed face,
Marked with the age of a soldier,
Nurtures a sad smile....
“In the land of Amazons,
We roved like bandits
And lived like kings;
We could take whatever we wished,
Amidst the cries of desperate men….
Don't you see, brother?
Men like us are destined
Never to find happiness.”

...Evening birdsong ushers
Cool night over the veld.
IV/IV
Feb 2018 · 235
Smuggler's Gap
Dawnstar Feb 2018
Crossing Smuggler’s Gap.
Echoes from the cavern walls
Remind me of once-breath'd kin:
How they lived,
Bound with iron chains,
And coal black whips at their feet!
The rollicking tide follows,
Infinitely pressing upon the land.
Winds the southern branch that way,
Sea’s roar so fresh in the air.
...I am glad to be leaving,
For, to stride the gap,
I do not dare.
III/IV
Feb 2018 · 337
Chalkstone Paved
Dawnstar Feb 2018
Chalkstone paved
        The unceremonious call
        Of a yellow machine
Dry craters where forests once grew....
        If the moon is out,
        And my hunger is sated,
They may grow anew.
II/IV
Dawnstar Feb 2018
Sitting cross-legged on a salt pillar.
The threads of fate entangle
My last vision of a unified parade.
Red-powdered shame.
My hope is gone,
So, without Keening,
I pass this task to someone braver.
I/IV
Feb 2018 · 221
Festival of Renaissance
Dawnstar Feb 2018
Palatial dawnrise.
Ten thousand petals
adrift over marbled gates.

Troopers beat a copper gong
to mark the festival of renaissance....

Cacophonous choir erupts;
torch-carriers rush
to light the jade hanging lamps.

Jesters smoke cherry pipes by the pier,
hawkish sellers peddle delicacies,
foreign emissaries walk briskly
down saffron lanes.

Once filled,
I gladly soak your culture;
now, at the pastry cart,
I'll purchase a sweet treat for my love.
Jan 2018 · 1.9k
late flower
Dawnstar Jan 2018
gardener
I am not ready
don't pluck me
Jan 2018 · 286
Omnia temporaria
Dawnstar Jan 2018
I'm saddened by my mirrored face,
Smiling like a Sogdian on his rock,
When every grain-glass touched
Conceals belded thoughts.
Still I don't dare
To settle on that canopic fold.
At night's blessed brim,
Sing a good song for me,
And place this wood-husk lute on the wadi....
Come spring I'll be just as cold.
Jan 2018 · 293
Green Dragon
Dawnstar Jan 2018
I have come in turquoise robes,
Cast out by the breadth of wild waters,
Riding from the cold north
To pursue an arctic sunset.
Each morn I awaken
On the back of a green dragon.
My leather snaps in the breeze;
In the pine islands, oxen murmur
As I fly boldly on the whistling currents.
...My heart ignites:
No more will I mildly give answer,
But courage shall be my cornerstone,
And the Spirit of God shall guide my flight.
Jan 2018 · 310
Fleming
Dawnstar Jan 2018
Now Fleming told the agency
what was required of me:
that wind might be converted
to electric energy.

"Before the snow flies,
and with all due haste!"
So I packed my sulphur
and I packed my case;
I ascended glassy stairdreams
to the roof of the place,
and I spoke real plain
to the agency man,
saying, "Take a little risk
on my redan plan."

But all that's left of Scotland
is the spiral runes,
so I'm setting up a mission
on a salt embankment,
and I'll build a nice house
on the green, green dunes.
Jan 2018 · 4.6k
In the Temple of the Ruhr
Dawnstar Jan 2018
Tepid damp and lukewarm night,
Build your camp by rivers bright;
Sable black and and somber grey,
Silt the river's arms away.

Island tenements rent for cheap,
Bakèd bricks in plinths lie deep;
Stores of merchants and their wives,
Sheltered from the thund'rous tides.

Glance on that maternal shrine,
Softly angled toward the Rhine;
See the men with flowing beards,
Seldom entertaining fears.

Moon illumes a stony pose,
Sun sustains a garden rose;
Temple pillars bathed in or,
Leave mute shadows on the floor.

Olifant horns begin to sound,
Tribesmen fall upon the town;
Riding with the northern gust,
Trampling the homes to dust.

Yet, as gateside rocks abound,
From the ashes, rises now,
Where that city met disgrace,
A mighty fortress in its place.
Now, the horns will sound no more,
In the Temple of the Ruhr.
Jan 2018 · 449
O, Rolling River
Dawnstar Jan 2018
O, rolling river of silvery shore,
Take me to my home once more;
I'm weary and tired,
My soul is spent,
And my body will water the fields.
Will water the fields
Above the clouds,
In gentle, whispering vales.

For love! (For love!)
Endure! (Endure!)
Hosanna! my enduring love,
Forever!

Carry me on,
Carry me swiftly to ashen groves,
The rocks that will become my home;
And lay me on the Roman road,
Where travelers may remark.
They may remark,
When passing by,
With chariots on their wings:

For shame! (For shame!)
For grief! (For grief!)
Oh! a kind-hearted fellow was he;
May he rest in lasting peace,
Forever!
A song.
Dec 2017 · 5.0k
worry, worry, worry
Dawnstar Dec 2017
I see apes walking on ice,
I see snakes slithering on snow,
lively eyes indulge my dream,
and it haunts me.

worry, worry, worry.
marked drips on a stained walkway
catch my stare so often
I forgot I was looking

by two levels, I drop.
the ground awaits me.
today, I am sure-footed;
I will not buckle.

an enigma passes:
I wrest free my heart,
but too late!
all that is left...
a cold afternoon,
a quiet memory,
a regretful encounter.

and countless others
who, in unfortunate confidence
might turn away in disdain...
they won't know a flower's scent.

if I were one of them,
I would stand up and say,
"Advance, Collingchance!
Attach your legions to mine,
and together we will conquer!"
or I would approach you like a highwayman
and make demands of you....

but since I am not,
my only demand
is that you accept me
for what I am.
Updated 2/2//2018.
Dec 2017 · 237
Monte Cristo
Dawnstar Dec 2017
in the age of modernity,
I remember
the sympathetic ink
that, when set alight,
produced a message.
fire danced on paper,
and brought hope to a hopeless soul.

will my fortune reveal itself,
or will it lie hidden in the caves?
Dec 2017 · 227
Courier
Dawnstar Dec 2017
I am a courier
I carry a letter
I'm bringing it to
my love, she hails
from far-off lands
her eyes are like
the sun, it sets
beyond the trees
it stabs me with
its gaze, so rare
and ne'er to be found
again, I must
retrace my steps
for, lost in thought
I seem to have passed
her house, all made
of crimson tile
a-dripping down
the lane, where garden paths
converge, to build
in essence, a friendship
as they do in Kyoto.
Dec 2017 · 261
Prince of Fools
Dawnstar Dec 2017
In nestled sighs,
I walk alone;
A weary prince,
But I have not the crown.

I sup with fools;
My gait is graceful;
I offer them samples,
Of what I find tasteful.

"Come, ye sharks!
Fill your jaws!
Accept my gifts,
Come one, come all!

But always be ready
To offer applause,
Or suffer to hear
My deadening pause."

And late at night,
Within my chamber,
I latch the door,
So none may enter.

I write in earnest,
My story to you:
A prince of fools,
But I am one too.
Dawnstar Dec 2017
I ride through the birkwood,
Passing snowbanks on every corner.
Day's end light blinds me.
Holiday joy turns bittersweet in my eyes,
And my lips are as dry as the air.
A fellow stranger sits by me....
Does he know he shares my name?
...Oh well, I hear a cawing:
From the window I see a hundred crows,
Circling the frozen river....
Friends laugh in the courtyard,
But I will be lonely tomorrow.
Dec 2017 · 122
Glencoe
Dawnstar Dec 2017
At Glencoe,
Where in centuries past,
Blood ran red on the snow,
Now wrapped in the quietude of summer.

The highland ridges rise over layers,
And sprawl into distant mountains,
Along the grim valley,
Ploughed by ancient giants.

The wanderer finds solace
At a bubbling creek,
Among the jagged rocks;
On each side, they ***** down,
Over shadows of green and brown

A humid chill blankets the sky.
The singing of birds is absent from this place.
The thistle grows where it wants,
And moss sprouts from among the crags.

All corners reflect an apparent emptiness,
Hiding any trace of human touch,
But the winding valley speaks in its own way,
And tells a story of desolation.

Alone in these remote wilds,
The wind carries away the echoes of forgotten ghosts
To the heathered isles of the west,
Or eastward, to the lowland dwellings.

But no reply is heard.
The steep walls silence their voices,
Their cries float eternally over the shady glen.
An ekphrastic poem for an art project.
Nov 2017 · 244
A Song to Sing
Dawnstar Nov 2017
How I wish for a song to sing:
A perfect melody,
A taste of spring.
I want a tune to reach my ears
And make my eyes
Well up with tears.

On rain-soaked streets,
I'd spend my days,
And I'd rattle through
The morning haze;
From the bouncing dream
Of a comforting song,
I'd turn my gaze skyward
As I walked along.

But now, it seems
I often can count
The streams that amount
To a deafening, dull sensation,
And whenever a song should reach my lips,
Its worth is lost from my imagination.

Oh, give me a mellow little tune;
A soothing chorus of flowers in bloom.
Or offer an epic romantic chantey,
The kind of a rhythm to suit my fancy.

Sing me a song of summertimes gone,
And give me the voice to carry it along.
Bring to my heart,
Wherever I may be,
A warm air,
A rousing melody,
In perfect harmony,
Grant me my wish,
It's all I ask,
Give me a song to sing!
A song.
Nov 2017 · 269
In taberna quando sumus
Dawnstar Nov 2017
When we are within the tavern,
we care not for earthly matters,
there, brows soaked in sweat,
we find ourselves among the gamblers.
What happens in the tavern,
where money is host,
you may well question,
and hear what I say.

Some gamble, some drink,
some behave without discretion.
But of the gamblers,
some are stripped bare,
some win clothing,
others dressed in ragged sacks.
Here, no one fears death,
instead they're throwing dice for Bacchus.

First comes the payment for the wine,
Then the drunkards drink in line:
They drink once for those in prison,
thrice for those a-living,
four times for all Christendom,
five for the faithful departed,
six for the sisters of loose virtue,
seven for the soldiers of the forest,
eight times for brothers in error,
nine times for the scattered monks,
ten times for the sailors,
eleven for the argumenting,
twelve times for those repenting,
thirteen times for those advent'ring.

For pope and king alike,
all drink without restraint.
Drinks the mistress, drinks the master,
drinks the soldier, and the pastor,
drinks the servant with the maid,
drinks the merchant for his trade,
drinks the black man, drinks the white man,
drink the wrong man and the right man,
drinks the settler, drinks the wanderer,
drink the fool, and the scholar,
Drink the poor, and the sick,
drink the slow one, and the quick,
drinks the stranger, drinks the exile,
drink the Jew and the Gentile,
drinks the boy, drinks the elder,
drink the brother and the sister,
father, mother, wife and husband,
by the hundred, by the thousand.

Six hundred coins have no duration,
when no one drinks in moderation,
although they drink with jubilation,
we receive vituperation,
And so we are in destitution.

Curse all those who slander us,
and may their names not be written the book of the just.
Translation of a Latin drinking song from the Carmina Burana.
Aug 2017 · 259
Grândola
Dawnstar Aug 2017
The old soldier I loved,
The young child I endured:
Both gained my friendship
Since we have raggedly matured.

Though clouds of grey
Have swept me away,
Still I oft return
To hear the bark of a thunderbird.
Aug 2017 · 113
The Last Outpost
Dawnstar Aug 2017
The icy sea to the north
And the frigid Pale to the south
At this god-forsaken outpost
We alone stand guard
Aug 2017 · 559
Metamorphosis
Dawnstar Aug 2017
Purity of mind,
Wholeness of being;
What caterpillars lose,
Butterflies are achieving.
Aug 2017 · 186
Sumbawa
Dawnstar Aug 2017
fire and smoke cascading down the green mountainside
the mist-covered forests topple to ash
a solitary ship departs the sinking islands
and the world turns cold in response.
Updated Dec. 22, 2017.
Aug 2017 · 184
Crallocks and Whyr
Dawnstar Aug 2017
Meet me by the fluttering pond,
Where fishermen silently linger,
And birds swim in its pale fragrance,
And all nature commands you,
To eschew violence.
Jul 2017 · 109
Ode to the White Wolfe
Dawnstar Jul 2017
I visited your page,
Like it was of use;
And although you did not
Seek to amuse

I couldn't help
But laugh that day,
At all the worthy dreams
You swept away.

"A brother,
A team,
A United States Marine."

Such a shameful rendition
Brought me to tears;
Cab could really croon
In his younger years.
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