"fauns" poems
*There is a place that I go
that exists within my mind.
And when I'm feeling troubled,
I can leave this world behind.
On wings of gossamer
I'll sail in airships made of mist
to sparkling shores of diamond dust
the golden sun has kissed.
There are unicorns with silver horns
and friendly dragons too.
There's griffins, fauns and centaurs
why, it's heaven's petting zoo.
The rain falls gently on my face
from tears the angels shed.
And blessings from The Father fall
like leaves on every head.
I'll swim in lakes of lavender
and also float upon my back.
to see a glittering rainbow there
with no colors does it lack.
There is no evil in this place
no envy, pride or hate.
For if I wish admission there,
I check them at the gate.
I'm kin to every heartbeat
and a soul mate to each star.
And I'm never lost or scared
for He's never very far.
And everyone is family there
the humans and the beasts.
There is no **********
There's no "greatest" and no "least".
Someday, I'll find thy solitude
and there I shall abide.
And I'll join the souls
that I have missed
upon thy mystic tide.*
Aug 2, 2017
Aug 2, 2017 at 10:13 AM UTC
Thrill with lissome lust of the light,
O man ! My man !
Come careering out of the night
Of Pan ! Io Pan .
Io Pan ! Io Pan ! Come over the sea
From Sicily and from Arcady !
Roaming as Bacchus, with fauns and pards
And nymphs and styrs for thy guards,
On a milk-white *** come over the sea
To me, to me,
Coem with Apollo in bridal dress
(Spheperdess and pythoness)
Come with Artemis, silken shod,
And wash thy white thigh, beautiful God,
In the moon, of the woods, on the marble mount,
The dimpled dawn of of the amber fount !
Dip the purple of passionate prayer
In the crimson shrine, the scarlet snare,
The soul that startles in eyes of blue
To watch thy wantoness weeping through
The tangled grove, the gnarled bole
Of the living tree that is spirit and soul
And body and brain -come over the sea,
(Io Pan ! Io Pan !)
Devil or god, to me, to me,
My man ! my man !
Come with trumpets sounding shrill
Over the hill !
Come with drums low muttering
From the spring !
Come with flute and come with pipe !
Am I not ripe ?
I, who wait and writhe and wrestle
With air that hath no boughs to nestle
My body, weary of empty clasp,
Strong as a lion, and sharp as an asp-
Come, O come !
I am numb
With the lonely lust of devildom.
****** the sword through the galling fetter,
All devourer, all begetter;
Give me the sign of the Open Eye
And the token ***** of thorny thigh
And the word of madness and mystery,
O pan ! Io Pan !
Io Pan ! Io Pan ! Pan Pan ! Pan,
I am a man:
Do as thou wilt, as a great god can,
O Pan ! Io Pan !
Io pan ! Io Pan Pan ! Iam awake
In the grip of the snake.
The eagle slashes with beak and claw;
The gods withdraw:
The great beasts come, Io Pan ! I am borne
To death on the horn
Of the Unicorn.
I am Pan ! Io Pan ! Io Pan Pan ! Pan !
I am thy mate, I am thy man,
Goat of thy flock, I am gold , I am god,
Flesh to thy bone, flower to thy rod.
With hoofs of steel I race on the rocks
Through solstice stubborn to equinox.
And I rave; and I **** and I rip and I rend
Everlasting, world without end.
Mannikin, maiden, maenad, man,
In the might of Pan.
Io Pan ! Io Pan Pan ! Pan ! Io Pan !
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pigeons perch themselves preening
on marble fauns ambivalent to their
perch, while dark skinned men prowl;
seeking tourists (Americans) to sell
cheap novelty items, over priced, yet
bought to drive away the insistent
merchants; ignorant to the realization:
if you remain silent and don’t make eye
contact you will not forfeit your money...
merchants who ruin the peace and awe
of grand feats of sculpture—I know they
are human (on a base level)—craving
money to make a living, yet there are
many (more respectable) professions…
their presence crowds the already
crowded (streets and) piazzas—aggregates
of language babble—old women and men
meandering along waiting to die—hoping
it is true: the slower you move the faster
time flows—if not: to hell with relativity!
(should have put chips on more than one table)
can math really explain all?—or
is life more than abstract objects?
while the din of crowds palpitates my heart
making way for anxious calculations,
C— and I hurry pass to find some area
to give the artefacts the respect they deserve
Apr 9, 2013
Apr 9, 2013 at 1:08 PM UTC
Rabbit, Rabbit, worn and weary at my parlor door
Come inside, sit by the fire, we’ll let tea spirits pour
They listen as we sip, they’ve never heard a rabbit howl.
But you’ve loved a wolf, and the wolf loved you
A rabbit who was on the prowl
Your lover wore the beast they made, of comets, dirt and fur
You drove fast cars
You fell through stars
You think it would all become a blur
Oh the places you two ran, the places you two crashed
A rabbit who danced through constellations
You two birthed solar systems when you clashed
You tell me of what you saw, the gods and their creations
The secrets that you made together, the heights you did ascend
And how this journey came and went to find its timely end
Because you lived an urban fantasy, in a world like a dream
Fantastic creatures in it teemed
Fantastic deeds and fantastic feats
Fantastic, eerie, dark lit streets.
For all its wonder, much like your lover,
It had as many teeth
And this is where a rabbit learned to growl
Grew sharp claws to disembowel
And on each other you left your marks
Be it lovely or be it ******
Both felt trepidation at the threat of sparks
So Howl, rabbit, who offered up your beating heart
Howl rabbit, who loved the prowling bard!
Tell your stories, weep into your cup
Nostalgia rocks you in her arms
Howl at those old once blazed skies
Howl about all of those pretty lies
Howl, divine heart break of harsh goodbyes
A thousand suns set on that day
The dream is done, or so you say
The things you crave, the things you made
These things you’ve done will never fade
The fauns of man have made their war
In the ballad of a love that is no more...
But you’re not a rabbit, and they weren’t a wolf
This was not a dream
I was there, and it was despair,
The story wasn’t as pretty as you made it seem
I’m glad it’s done, that you’re both free
I hope you did enjoy the tea
But make no mistake, I know your habit
They weren’t a wolf, and you’re not a rabbit
Sep 21, 2018
Sep 21, 2018 at 12:24 AM UTC
Doubt no more that Oberon—
Never doubt that Pan
Lived, and played a reed, and ran
After nymphs in a dark forest,
In the merry, credulous days,—
Lived, and led a fairy band
Over the indulgent land!
Ah, for in this dourest, sorest
Age man’s eye has looked upon,
Death to fauns and death to fays,
Still the dog-wood dares to raise—
Healthy tree, with trunk and root—
Ivory bowls that bear no fruit,
And the starlings and the jays—
Birds that cannot even sing—
Dare to come again in spring!
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The apple trees are hung with gold,
And birds are loud in Arcady,
The sheep lie bleating in the fold,
The wild goat runs across the wold,
But yesterday his love he told,
I know he will come back to me.
O rising moon! O Lady moon!
Be you my lover’s sentinel,
You cannot choose but know him well,
For he is shod with purple shoon,
You cannot choose but know my love,
For he a shepherd’s crook doth bear,
And he is soft as any dove,
And brown and curly is his hair.
The turtle now has ceased to call
Upon her crimson-footed groom,
The grey wolf prowls about the stall,
The lily’s singing seneschal
Sleeps in the lily-bell, and all
The violet hills are lost in gloom.
O risen moon! O holy moon!
Stand on the top of Helice,
And if my own true love you see,
Ah! if you see the purple shoon,
The hazel crook, the lad’s brown hair,
The goat-skin wrapped about his arm,
Tell him that I am waiting where
The rushlight glimmers in the Farm.
The falling dew is cold and chill,
And no bird sings in Arcady,
The little fauns have left the hill,
Even the tired daffodil
Has closed its gilded doors, and still
My lover comes not back to me.
False moon! False moon! O waning moon!
Where is my own true lover gone,
Where are the lips vermilion,
The shepherd’s crook, the purple shoon?
Why spread that silver pavilion,
Why wear that veil of drifting mist?
Ah! thou hast young Endymion,
Thou hast the lips that should be kissed!
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stars are dying, not becoming supernovas, or hurricane eyes, just collapsing to sleep, shh, tiny bodies flickering over the outstretched palms of children with wide eyes and feet that won't stop moving, even when holding hands as nets to catch the quiet light of sprinkles, little cake sprinkles that fall from the sky.
the flowers are bending their heads to the ground, trying to hear the singing of the fauns as they dance around pre-formed groves in the forest to your left, the vibrations are travelling and amplified, if you listen carefully, so carefully, a wondering song of delight without words could reach you, stand so very still.
the rain-drops are soft, caressing the ground hesitantly, asking its permission to tread on the springy moss and look for bubbles to choreograph marches for, complete with full brass band, and pixies combing hairs into a fountain of wheat coloured spoken word.
Dec 7, 2010
Dec 7, 2010 at 11:38 AM UTC
I follow the winding, the way beyond the farthest places
between trees knotted menacing with darkened faces
under mossy roots that twist and trip with a mischievous cackle
over heights and falls that beckon death's clanking shackle
and if you fall in, lose your precious breath
to tree limbs tangled scratching at vulnerable flesh.
A green roof above and green floor below
but my eyes look ahead, to where the silver meadows did grow
Remorse remembers all that passed before the eye
burnt of fire forgotten and ash was strewn across the sky
and now only memory does remain
of silver meadows and the golden rain.
This land is dampened with the morning dew
that daren't melt but for the light of moon
where mossy things are stowed in sunken places
and beautiful wonders lay behind rock faces,
I know the way, but do not lightly follow
As sunset brings forth demons beyond tomorrow.
I wish to find her: the lady silk
Her hands weaving threads of fates who twist and separate
her threads she brought from those older places past
Where nascent fauns with youthful voices fastly gleam and chatter
and deftly danced to delights in the silver meadows
When all was false and truth was shaded
all liars happily in reflections reflected
pale faces feinted in humorous deception
and all charismatic affectations were familiar expression.
singing songs of passing pleasures in strange dialect
All was serene was silver mirrors reflecting
save the flow of golden liquid cool and still
which seeped from sky to hill and then chalice filled.
I walk to see the lady
who has one eye black and one eye white
and carries a silver knife which- in moonlight flashes bright.
I will wearily watch for it's flashing tomorrow night,
for she doesn't know it, but I was also born of moon's pale light.
Oct 3, 2018
Oct 3, 2018 at 6:36 PM UTC
Can't keep up
Sleep passes by
Haunted by the forest
Little pieces of sky
Land softly on the stars
Branches caress
Dead fauns
A restless wilderness
The janitor works late
Cleaning up the mess
All thats left
Are flower petals
Forbidden by men
Runing the way
It was meant to be
Seven long days
And nothing has
Been accomplished
Deemed special
Better than the rest
The bears and foxes
The seals and dolphins
Running from saws
Caught in a web of chants
They are brought to
A place
Covered in paste
Its beautiful,
Peaceful and rich
From the clouds
People look on
Rest with the intention
Of never awakening
Forced gods breath
Just in case of fire
We wait for the sun
Under the canopy of
Gas and waste
My own thoughts
No one else would think
They must become nothing
To be worth something
Scared and weak
Everyone is something
Who was born of another
Gospels sing praise of
Thankfulness
Who woulda thunk
We'd be so stupid
Building ground over
Our used consumption
Sometimes i sit
And think
And write
And lose myself
In the reality of everything
But what everyone knows
Is accepted without question.
To you, who has read this, i thank you.
You are very patient.
Lol.
May 5, 2010
May 5, 2010 at 5:00 PM UTC
i think when i die i will be a forest
in who shall be does and fauns
pretty and glad in sunshine oh
yes sunshine will be there and
it will always smell like right after it
rains cooly on hot asphalt like
it smells like when you come into
a room i think when i die i shall
be a star flecked with innumerable
other stars on slick neat necked
night's pursed lips all pinched and
sticky with unyoung youth and
anciently when i die i think i will
be an ocean where will sleep mermaids
in pearl white skin and fishes and
a somehow little city in a nice little
dome where they will play music
such music as you would want to
listen to when you're sad because it
will always cheer you up and like
ee said to me one night when i was
reading him in my bed he said "it is
funny that you will be dead someday."
and i knew it right then that i think
when i die i will be a forest
Mar 9, 2012
Mar 9, 2012 at 7:12 AM UTC
It was an ugly tree, twisted, broken and bare,
But that’s not important, look over there!
Just over the hill, two fauns, *** bare,
No shame no pomp, they don’t even care!
And here you are, in your oversized suit,
Of brass and steel, and one missing boot,
To vanquish the dragon that stands tall.
Off you went from your quiet home,
And decided to leave your friend, the Gnome,
Of who you couldn’t stand due to his odor,
He, his entire life, worked as a manure loader,
An—what? The tree? What of the tree?
First you should get some manners.
You’re in MY story by God and I will have my say.
For it may be your life, but you’ll live it my way.
But the tree, yes you’re approaching it now,
And see that it is bare of leaves..(in the summer? How?)
You daren’t go near there, If I do say myself,
For people who go there end up like the elves…
Dead.
But enough of that now let’s continue,
That silly old tree is now far away now,
And want to save the princess, Draud,
Her father is rich, and a land owner too!
Don’t make that face, I’ll make it back at you.
What about the tree? No I don’t care—We don’t care about the tree,
You’re going to live how I say.
Now. You’ll defeat the dragon and set Draud free,
And then she’ll be yours for all to see,
You’ll be happy and wealthy and have propriety,
And then you’ll be happy all thanks to me!
So forget the tree and all its mystery,
For its story is unknown even to me!
And we’ve had this whole thing planned for you,
And yet you keep asking what this tree can do?
OK well fine, what if you go that route?
Maybe you’ll get turned into a pig with a snout.
And Draud needs saving, what of her plea?
What? Save herself? You’re kidding me.
Now go, **** you, and do as you’re told,
Or I’ll say you drop dead.
Still resisting? Still can’t decide?
Do what you want.
These polite people spend time to hear this story,
They’re all angry I’m sure,
It’s All your fault now they’re disappointed,
You king of fools.
Whats that? you want to end this scene?
Fine but only two lines, and nothing mean.
If those two lines don’t contain, “please forgive me”
Then consider yourself shunned,
Here, the mic.
[Adventures Ensue,]
[Without all of you.]
Oct 13, 2016
Oct 13, 2016 at 11:52 PM UTC
A single drop falls,
From the heavens,
Piercing through,
The black sky,
Till it lands.
Softly grazing the windowpane,
A wandering rabbit,
Leaving its trail across the glass,
Drip.
It's kin soon follow,
Falling from the sky,
Impatient fingers drumming on the glass,
Drip drop pitter patter,
Tap tap tap tap tap,
falling down and down and down,
Still more and more and more,
now the glass is drenched with little beads,
All leaping and bounding and prancing they fall,
They are newborn fauns splashing and playing in the dark,
And moremoremoremoremore over and over again,
Tumbling down the glass in an onslaught they surge,
Harder and harder and faster and faster now a horde of running gazelles,
Trying to escape their hunter, pummeling and pounding against the glass,
Blearing wide eyes, darting every which way, over and over,
crashing, thrashing, bumping and squirming and runningrunningrunning
And Then thunder!!!!!
A roaring lion through the night,
It's raw power unleashed from the captivity it has been held,
Angry and violent It tears through the air, ripping and shredding,
And when peace seemed a long vanished dream from the minds eye,
Somehow it's found,
Amid the chaos,
And the storm,
dries up,
Pitter.
Patter.
Drop.
Apr 3, 2015
Apr 3, 2015 at 10:09 AM UTC
Even with my iron grip
You seem to always slip
Through my fingertips
If I still held on
Maybe you wouldn't be gone
So we could look at the fauns
They're so strange
But they shouldn't change
Because life is like a train
It keeps moving
Sometimes it can be confusing
You don't know the path it's choosing
And that's alright
Because you're by my side
And in each other we can confide
But those were the old days
When life was a daze
And we sent each other a loving gaze
Now when I see you
It's like being in an interview
'Cause I can only say certain things- like ordering off a menu
I still love you, friend
I have no more words towards you to send
So I guess this relationship will, like always, end
Dec 14, 2014
Dec 14, 2014 at 11:19 PM UTC
Far beyond the gable ends of dark suburban streets
Riding past the furthest flats where paths give way to fields
Where giant cranes with groaning frames are elevators into space
Looming over dark estates, unoccupied and halfway built
A regiment of vacant digs
Set out just like theatre props; a sort of play not yet begun
The porches laid with welcome rugs for when the future tenants come
And when they take up residence and get their keys and pay their rent
They'll surely never think of me as I have thought of them
The countless nights I've seen to spend, exploring every lamplit bend
Or how I'd trekked those distant places, before they'd laid the first foundations
Beyond the reach of tired feet, where fauns or fairies surely meet
The dark and curing plains are real and stretch for starry miles around
The rustle and din of windblown things, the rush of moonlit clouds
And soon from now when strangers come and pick the perfect house to live
And make it theirs and settle in and pick a room to put the crib
I'll stop the squeak of spinning wheels upon some distant mound or cliff
And moving closer to the lip; Dublin twinkles past the tip
Feb 5, 2020
Feb 5, 2020 at 4:46 PM UTC