"caverned" poems
This is the time lean woods shall spend
A steeped-up twilight, and the pale evening drink,
And the perilous roe, the leaper to the west brink,
Trembling and bright to the caverned cloud descend.
Now shall you see pent oak gone gusty and frantic,
Stooped with dry weeping, ruinously unloosing
The sparse disheveled leaf, or reared and tossing
A dreary scarecrow bough in funeral antic.
Then, tatter you and rend,
Oak heart, to your profession mourning; not obscure
The outcome, not crepuscular; on the deep floor
Sable and gold match lustres and contend.
And rags of shrouding will not muffle the slain.
This is the immortal extinction, the priceless wound
Not to be staunched. The live gold leaks beyond,
And matter’s sanctified, dipped in a gold stain.
3.3k
artist working by candle light,
neon lights, coffee shop lights...
~~~
to, for & from SJR
~
this force,
burnt soul kindling,
rampant urges that bow a man's
spine
write write rite right
consumption of the soul
straighten up, flex,
flex to the curvature of the Earths
invitation to
write write rite right
cast my eyes to the mountains,
from whence will come my help?
street prowler, heart growler,
Art Deco lampposts,
the mountain range of east seventy second street,
begs the baggers question,
each a post
begging each other,
from whence will come my inspiration?
lick the stubbled sidewalks,
fall down living in their caverned cracks,
light needed needy soft heated
orange and green pizza neons
say here,
if you see upon what be,
your homelands colors of veracity
from
candle light,
neon lights,
coffee shop lights.
all queries so queer,
so cheerfully answered
in the ***** air,
in warped woof of
city write lights
he goes home
in the dark of a green moon,
and its delighting inviting
moonlight,
he composes
what is his eyes have
decomposed into a single memory,
and is satisfied
unto sleep
praising the eyes,
light lidded, but eager closing,
that
had wisdom given
to observe
light various by which to
write write rite right
4/16/16
10:30am
nyc
Apr 16, 2016
Apr 16, 2016 at 10:42 AM UTC
Hungry eyes are servants to the mind,
and the mind a hollow belly to a caverned beast,
and the beast goat horns the shoulders,
forward, forward in arched knots,
vainly shielding the heart,
and the heart squeezing its tortured eardrums
so as to silence the wailed coveting, the coveting, the coveting...
Jan 15, 2011
Jan 15, 2011 at 2:16 PM UTC
*He then caverned out
The bright beacon my heart was
I bled profusely*
Apr 27, 2014
Apr 27, 2014 at 4:59 PM UTC
I have had enough of lovers
Wishing to be the sun in my sky
And creating diurnal dependencies
That block half its dome at a time.
To shine with such effulgence
Should be an honor all my own.
Who else is my constant companion?
Who else sets my caverned heart 'glow?
Instead, let all that is loved by me
Be a dazzling array of constellations,
Each brilliant Sirius and Betelgeuse
Whirling, returning through my seasons.
And if I should find such a Star again,
Let them be not Sol, but instead, Polaris -
Gleaming steadfast, in their own region,
Never dipping 'neath horizon's terrace,
Their simply existing
A northward guide
Keeping me truthfully
Aligned.
Feb 12, 2019
Feb 12, 2019 at 11:54 PM UTC
Hibernating in the northern-most hills,
Beneath Winter’s canvas, the wind’s grim shrills,
‘Midst the caverned silence unsung by bird,
Lies man’s deep-buried soul, its pulse unheard.
Frost buries warmth no fire but man’s can lend.
Strong limbs bow low before a blizzard’s wind,
Their foliage taken, the bush is bare,
The woods wither because man does not dare.
If the hearts of man should wilt and then wane
Then Spring shall follow with guilt and disdain.
To Wake and Live, Sleep and Let Die: Choose!
Before, Like O’erspread snow, his death accrues.
Awake the Savage! Where is Man’s hunger?
Too long he slept, too long he has slumbered.
Jun 20, 2012
Jun 20, 2012 at 6:37 PM UTC