Evening Song
Willa Cather - 1873-1947



Dear love,                                              
what thing of all the things that be 
Is ever worth one thought from you or me, 
             Save only Love, 
             Save only Love?
The days so short, the nights so quick to flee, 
The world so wide, so deep and dark the sea, 
              So dark the sea; 
So far the suns and every listless star, 
Beyond their light—Ah! dear, who knows how far, 
             Who knows how far? 
One thing of all dim things I know is true, 
The heart within me knows, and tells it you, 
             And tells it you. 
So blind is life, so long at last is sleep, 
And none but Love to bid us laugh or weep, 
             And none but Love, 
             And none but Love.


______


Evening Song Twice
O.L.P. 1950-


Dear love,
your soft sleeping+breathing sounds require
Recitation of this, an Evening Song, singular thoughts,
           Save for only your love,
           Save for only your love,
Days are short, long nights grant permission,
Days are short, long nights grant commission,
            So dark are the seas of interruption,
The voids, the emptying spaces of inhibition,
Dim my eye lights, you, envisioned, me, tremulous and weak,
             Who knows when I shall see you again so clearly?
Of all things past, so well remembered burnishing caresses,
My heart within speaks, once more into the clouded atmosphere,
             Even as you sleep, my love, yet full on complete,
Tho my senses impaired, my thoughts thru your sleep, I’ll penetrate,
And none but Love to bid us laugh or weep, 
              And none but Love, 
              And none but Love.

Love Letters to & between Men

are composition easy, the components, blunt edged,
declarations of affection, without affectation

verses but not stanzas, are all that required,
homer direct, no fanciful piping, no trimming needed

your strength, character, manly wistfulness,
gives me leave to grasp your shoulders all about

no feverish whispers, no cloaked hush, delicately interfering,
only an “I love you man,” a simple declarative compositional

firmly pronounced, eye to eye, hand to shoulder embraces,
acknowledged with crinkly eyed smile, met with a summarizing

“me too.”



2/12/2020
2:25am

love gripped light

~ for r, sleuth of life ~

you sleep with a metal detector,
unearthing dreamed artifacts,
that messenger many fates of many young,
belongings of dead men living again

and

of a living solitary man, a vision of him, envisioning,
dancing on a property line dividing
immortality dreams
and finality schemes

dead men living,
these different men, haunting and roaring, sighing pointlessly,
speaking to you alone, pithy commentaries, they, predecessor poets,
someone’s ancestors inhabiting a soil world familiar, awaiting we too

you whip yourself over life’s lost campaigns,
where strategy proved insufficient,
lost to men and materiel superior in numbers,
the hearts that were captured, imprisoned, stolen,
and worst, lost by grievous bad judgement human weak,
your dreams are you own artifacts, recovered

long after the battle smoke clears, you remain,
questioning not the how, where or when, only
was it worth it? and so sadly,
you answer yes.

you keep a record of your poems, losses,
each battlefield has no victors, only losses,
each poemfield has no victors, only losses,
it tires you so, to be guardian, the promise keeper,
you asked for burdens, you got just desserts awarded,
you share some, the ones under the pillow,
gripped lightly and tightly, simultaneously

with long distance lovers of your soul,
those you barely know, until met in red soil someday,
what matters it, they ken a kinship bond, and
love you oh so lightly

and they are

gripping you so lightly/tightly with the lightness/tightness
of words,
two book bound souls.
one shared spine...

2/10/20
100 Centre St.
NY Criminal Court
1:38

bid me follow, unbutton that grimy work shirt,
present me ruby nippled *******, silently commanding
worship, suckling, an invitation to come unto me,
my initiation to the pleasure of getting to know you intime

you will laugh with surprise, as the anointing oil of relief
crowns your head, slicking down to caving cavities,
river running in crevices, that feed the buried places,
replenishing the almost forgotten secret of letting go

your pleasure is my greatest pleasure, for long known
the best taking lies beneath unabashedly giving, gentrifying,
you will full fill me, me eager drinking your noises, releasing
my purposes, coming to take my re-education you remedying

your short fingernails will pierce, new additions to my scars,
my history, your chapter, verse and stanza, all now, a claim upon me, that cannot be refused, for elemental silk threads now bind, each may pull, at either end, for the thread is of our singular commonality,
human tissue

~
infinitude (noun): the state, the quality of being without limit, infinite

    
        ~
drew first breath, woken to the heart’s rpm thankless task,

conscious aware, that solved proofs deny infinitude,

yet, triumvirate of five senses, brain waving,
a steadying thumping heart,

all asking why not?

can I will it?

the body’s parts convene, debating furious, some claiming
a sell-by-date cellular programmed, nothing to be done,
dimming of the day, a human necessity, the self-salvaging process

but a single cell, a mouse-sized squeaker, boldface stuns,
”feed me, moisturize, give me sleep + blue blood nourishment,
I’m good to go in a forever Iditarod!”

the others ashamed of their festival of fear, knowing well
what has gone before, dreaming thoughts of infinitude, go silent,

while “why not?”
lingers in the lungs, the breathable shared, atmosphere,

the senses spread the quest to every remote province,
with each continuing a chant grows ever louder,
a millennium of poems concealed, yet awaiting conception,
all entitled,
“why not”reverberating.

<+>
7:36am 2022020
nyc everywhere