What shadows eclipse my careful judgment?
With what violence does the Earth resist my weight? Stand, must I, despite the rebellious nature of the tremor underneath my gait Oh to borrow Atlas' strength for my burden For Hercules to sharpen and connect the twine Powering my muscle to match the uncertain force and ferocity and finish of time Oh in banishment from the garden we forever fall And collapse into chasms beneath the soil Excavated too resignedly by the hands of men unwilling to share our toil But mine is the young spirit daily forged With Death's lasting measure tarnished and torn! My yoke and the blood loosed beneath it Invigorate my being; reborn, Reborn!
the onyx residence above me matches what’s below
the tumult seems synchronous thrusting this realm from end to end My wooden steed is in disrepair and war-weary in defeat seeking quieter refuge amongst the forsaken life drips from me and erupts about me oh how I grasp for the sanctuary of it but the bodies only burgeon and grow in formidable posture Presiding above my eyes They sway and dance and swallow me whole
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though; He will not see me stopping here To watch his woods fill up with snow. My little horse must think it ***** To stop without a farmhouse near Between the woods and frozen lake The darkest evening of the year. He gives his harness bells a shake To ask if there is some mistake. The only other sound’s the sweep Of easy wind and downy flake. The woods are lovely, dark, and deep, But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep.
Oh! hush thee, my baby, the night is behind us,
And black are the waters that sparkled so green. The moon, o’er the combers, looks downward to find us At rest in the hollows that rustle between. Where billow meets billow, there soft be thy pillow; Ah, weary, wee flipperling, curl at thy ease! The storm shall not wake thee, nor shark overtake thee, Asleep in the arms of the slow-swinging seas.
the croons and cries
tempt me again under a blackening sky i tread not lightly but thoroughly at once sanctifying this raw Earth and destroying it i encroach in this place my soul knows it but my eyes do not the shredding of those teeth my pace encourages while my being is wrought not in terror but loyalty i haven't found you yet i am close
Beside your window
Beside the water Beneath those dark stars Beneath the martyrs I think of purpose I think of power In poignant remorse Piquantly sour In your yard it seems to rise The ephemeral cadence of surprise When he appears with baffled eyes The life before him another prize Atop the glowing grass you lay Under the melody of the play Of a loose guitar and drummer’s way With the tunes and tones of a summer’s day Yet I am here Yet I am away A piece of you Unwelcome, afraid Now apart Now a fiend My once sweet life Under siege The lights that glimmer and dance for you They warm the past and present too Nothing’s decrepit, nothing askew And the only color unplayed is blue Crystal collides and inhibitions calm In glee and grandeur you carry on What lasts awhile, but not too long Is preserved in yet another song Dare I advance Dare I say, “May I join you, May I stay?” But I have dared enough today Dared to leave and dared to return I have dared my whole life away Far too fractured to finally learn Must you, God, cast me aside? I have listened, I have tried! Anguish forced me from this place Return me, Father, in somber grace! What good are these ears if I cannot hear you! What save this mouth from uselessness? My flesh and fingers seek to be near you As I reach in this black night for blessedness! Despite my quite audacious plea Lakeside, I now need memory To fool my mind and body as one Into knowing I am still your son Yet here I left you so here I must be Only just beside your pictures of me Only just beside our family name Only just beside my battered grave.
An estranged son returns to his family’s lakeside home during festivities of which he desperately wishes to be included, but knows his presence would be displeasing.
I shade myself beneath this mighty oak
Poised in a dignity of God’s holy measure And true does the stream extend beside it Flowing ever fully into forever