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672

The Future—never spoke—
Nor will He—like the Dumb—
Reveal by sign—a syllable
Of His Profound To Come—

But when the News be ripe—
Presents it—in the Act—
Forestalling Preparation—
Escape—or Substitute—

Indifference to Him—
The Dower—as the Doom—
His Office—but to execute
Fate’s—Telegram—to Him—
A Masque Presented At Ludlow Castle, 1634, Before

The Earl Of Bridgewater, Then President Of Wales.

The Persons

        The ATTENDANT SPIRIT, afterwards in the habit of THYRSIS.
COMUS, with his Crew.
The LADY.
FIRST BROTHER.
SECOND BROTHER.
SABRINA, the Nymph.

The Chief Persons which presented were:—

The Lord Brackley;
Mr. Thomas Egerton, his Brother;
The Lady Alice Egerton.


The first Scene discovers a wild wood.
The ATTENDANT SPIRIT descends or enters.


Before the starry threshold of Jove’s court
My mansion is, where those immortal shapes
Of bright aerial spirits live insphered
In regions mild of calm and serene air,
Above the smoke and stir of this dim spot
Which men call Earth, and, with low-thoughted care,
Confined and pestered in this pinfold here,
Strive to keep up a frail and feverish being,
Unmindful of the crown that Virtue gives,
After this mortal change, to her true servants
Amongst the enthroned gods on sainted seats.
Yet some there be that by due steps aspire
To lay their just hands on that golden key
That opes the palace of eternity.
To Such my errand is; and, but for such,
I would not soil these pure ambrosial weeds
With the rank vapours of this sin-worn mould.
         But to my task. Neptune, besides the sway
Of every salt flood and each ebbing stream,
Took in by lot, ‘twixt high and nether Jove,
Imperial rule of all the sea-girt isles
That, like to rich and various gems, inlay
The unadorned ***** of the deep;
Which he, to grace his tributary gods,
By course commits to several government,
And gives them leave to wear their sapphire crowns
And wield their little tridents. But this Isle,
The greatest and the best of all the main,
He quarters to his blue-haired deities;
And all this tract that fronts the falling sun
A noble Peer of mickle trust and power
Has in his charge, with tempered awe to guide
An old and haughty nation, proud in arms:
Where his fair offspring, nursed in princely lore,
Are coming to attend their father’s state,
And new-intrusted sceptre. But their way
Lies through the perplexed paths of this drear wood,
The nodding horror of whose shady brows
Threats the forlorn and wandering passenger;
And here their tender age might suffer peril,
But that, by quick command from sovran Jove,
I was despatched for their defence and guard:
And listen why; for I will tell you now
What never yet was heard in tale or song,
From old or modern bard, in hall or bower.
         Bacchus, that first from out the purple grape
Crushed the sweet poison of misused wine,
After the Tuscan mariners transformed,
Coasting the Tyrrhene shore, as the winds listed,
On Circe’s island fell. (Who knows not Circe,
The daughter of the Sun, whose charmed cup
Whoever tasted lost his upright shape,
And downward fell into a grovelling swine?)
This Nymph, that gazed upon his clustering locks,
With ivy berries wreathed, and his blithe youth,
Had by him, ere he parted thence, a son
Much like his father, but his mother more,
Whom therefore she brought up, and Comus named:
Who, ripe and frolic of his full-grown age,
Roving the Celtic and Iberian fields,
At last betakes him to this ominous wood,
And, in thick shelter of black shades imbowered,
Excels his mother at her mighty art;
Offering to every weary traveller
His orient liquor in a crystal glass,
To quench the drouth of Phoebus; which as they taste
(For most do taste through fond intemperate thirst),
Soon as the potion works, their human count’nance,
The express resemblance of the gods, is changed
Into some brutish form of wolf or bear,
Or ounce or tiger, hog, or bearded goat,
All other parts remaining as they were.
And they, so perfect is their misery,
Not once perceive their foul disfigurement,
But boast themselves more comely than before,
And all their friends and native home forget,
To roll with pleasure in a sensual sty.
Therefore, when any favoured of high Jove
Chances to pass through this adventurous glade,
Swift as the sparkle of a glancing star
I shoot from heaven, to give him safe convoy,
As now I do. But first I must put off
These my sky-robes, spun out of Iris’ woof,
And take the weeds and likeness of a swain
That to the service of this house belongs,
Who, with his soft pipe and smooth-dittied song,
Well knows to still the wild winds when they roar,
And hush the waving woods; nor of less faith
And in this office of his mountain watch
Likeliest, and nearest to the present aid
Of this occasion. But I hear the tread
Of hateful steps; I must be viewless now.


COMUS enters, with a charming-rod in one hand, his glass in the
other: with him a rout of monsters, headed like sundry sorts of
wild
beasts, but otherwise like men and women, their apparel
glistering.
They come in making a riotous and unruly noise, with torches in
their hands.


         COMUS. The star that bids the shepherd fold
Now the top of heaven doth hold;
And the gilded car of day
His glowing axle doth allay
In the steep Atlantic stream;
And the ***** sun his upward beam
Shoots against the dusky pole,
Pacing toward the other goal
Of his chamber in the east.
Meanwhile, welcome joy and feast,
Midnight shout and revelry,
Tipsy dance and jollity.
Braid your locks with rosy twine,
Dropping odours, dropping wine.
Rigour now is gone to bed;
And Advice with scrupulous head,
Strict Age, and sour Severity,
With their grave saws, in slumber lie.
We, that are of purer fire,
Imitate the starry quire,
Who, in their nightly watchful spheres,
Lead in swift round the months and years.
The sounds and seas, with all their finny drove,
Now to the moon in wavering morrice move;
And on the tawny sands and shelves
Trip the pert fairies and the dapper elves.
By dimpled brook and fountain-brim,
The wood-nymphs, decked with daisies trim,
Their merry wakes and pastimes keep:
What hath night to do with sleep?
Night hath better sweets to prove;
Venus now wakes, and wakens Love.
Come, let us our rights begin;
‘T is only daylight that makes sin,
Which these dun shades will ne’er report.
Hail, goddess of nocturnal sport,
Dark-veiled Cotytto, to whom the secret flame
Of midnight torches burns! mysterious dame,
That ne’er art called but when the dragon womb
Of Stygian darkness spets her thickest gloom,
And makes one blot of all the air!
Stay thy cloudy ebon chair,
Wherein thou ridest with Hecat’, and befriend
Us thy vowed priests, till utmost end
Of all thy dues be done, and none left out,
Ere the blabbing eastern scout,
The nice Morn on the Indian steep,
From her cabined loop-hole peep,
And to the tell-tale Sun descry
Our concealed solemnity.
Come, knit hands, and beat the ground
In a light fantastic round.

                              The Measure.

         Break off, break off! I feel the different pace
Of some chaste footing near about this ground.
Run to your shrouds within these brakes and trees;
Our number may affright. Some ****** sure
(For so I can distinguish by mine art)
Benighted in these woods! Now to my charms,
And to my wily trains: I shall ere long
Be well stocked with as fair a herd as grazed
About my mother Circe. Thus I hurl
My dazzling spells into the spongy air,
Of power to cheat the eye with blear illusion,
And give it false presentments, lest the place
And my quaint habits breed astonishment,
And put the damsel to suspicious flight;
Which must not be, for that’s against my course.
I, under fair pretence of friendly ends,
And well-placed words of glozing courtesy,
Baited with reasons not unplausible,
Wind me into the easy-hearted man,
And hug him into snares. When once her eye
Hath met the virtue of this magic dust,
I shall appear some harmless villager
Whom thrift keeps up about his country gear.
But here she comes; I fairly step aside,
And hearken, if I may her business hear.

The LADY enters.

         LADY. This way the noise was, if mine ear be true,
My best guide now. Methought it was the sound
Of riot and ill-managed merriment,
Such as the jocund flute or gamesome pipe
Stirs up among the loose unlettered hinds,
When, for their teeming flocks and granges full,
In wanton dance they praise the bounteous Pan,
And thank the gods amiss. I should be loth
To meet the rudeness and swilled insolence
Of such late wassailers; yet, oh! where else
Shall I inform my unacquainted feet
In the blind mazes of this tangled wood?
My brothers, when they saw me wearied out
With this long way, resolving here to lodge
Under the spreading favour of these pines,
Stepped, as they said, to the next thicket-side
To bring me berries, or such cooling fruit
As the kind hospitable woods provide.
They left me then when the grey-hooded Even,
Like a sad votarist in palmer’s ****,
Rose from the hindmost wheels of Phoebus’ wain.
But where they are, and why they came not back,
Is now the labour of my thoughts. TTis likeliest
They had engaged their wandering steps too far;
And envious darkness, ere they could return,
Had stole them from me. Else, O thievish Night,
Why shouldst thou, but for some felonious end,
In thy dark lantern thus close up the stars
That Nature hung in heaven, and filled their lamps
With everlasting oil to give due light
To the misled and lonely traveller?
This is the place, as well as I may guess,
Whence even now the tumult of loud mirth
Was rife, and perfect in my listening ear;
Yet nought but single darkness do I find.
What might this be ? A thousand fantasies
Begin to throng into my memory,
Of calling shapes, and beckoning shadows dire,
And airy tongues that syllable men’s names
On sands and shores and desert wildernesses.
These thoughts may startle well, but not astound
The virtuous mind, that ever walks attended
By a strong siding champion, Conscience.
O, welcome, pure-eyed Faith, white-handed Hope,
Thou hovering angel girt with golden wings,
And thou unblemished form of Chastity!
I see ye visibly, and now believe
That He, the Supreme Good, to whom all things ill
Are but as slavish officers of vengeance,
Would send a glistering guardian, if need were,
To keep my life and honour unassailed. . . .
Was I deceived, or did a sable cloud
Turn forth her silver lining on the night?
I did not err: there does a sable cloud
Turn forth her silver lining on the night,
And casts a gleam over this tufted grove.
I cannot hallo to my brothers, but
Such noise as I can make to be heard farthest
I’ll venture; for my new-enlivened spirits
Prompt me, and they perhaps are not far off.

Song.

Sweet Echo, sweetest nymph, that liv’st unseen
                 Within thy airy shell
         By slow Meander’s margent green,
And in the violet-embroidered vale
         Where the love-lorn nightingale
Nightly to thee her sad song mourneth well:
Canst thou not tell me of a gentle pair
         That likest thy Narcissus are?
                  O, if thou have
         Hid them in some flowery cave,
                  Tell me but where,
         Sweet Queen of Parley, Daughter of the Sphere!
         So may’st thou be translated to the skies,
And give resounding grace to all Heaven’s harmonies!


         COMUS. Can any mortal mixture of earthUs mould
Breathe such divine enchanting ravishment?
Sure something holy lodges in that breast,
And with these raptures moves the vocal air
To testify his hidden residence.
How sweetly did they float upon the wings
Of silence, through the empty-vaulted night,
At every fall smoothing the raven down
Of darkness till it smiled! I have oft heard
My mother Circe with the Sirens three,
Amidst the flowery-kirtled Naiades,
Culling their potent herbs and baleful drugs,
Who, as they sung, would take the prisoned soul,
And lap it in Elysium: Scylla wept,
And chid her barking waves into attention,
And fell Charybdis murmured soft applause.
Yet they in pleasing slumber lulled the sense,
And in sweet madness robbed it of itself;
But such a sacred and home-felt delight,
Such sober certainty of waking bliss,
I never heard till now. I’ll speak to her,
And she shall be my queen.QHail, foreign wonder!
Whom certain these rough shades did never breed,
Unless the goddess that in rural shrine
Dwell’st here with Pan or Sylvan, by blest song
Forbidding every bleak unkindly fog
To touch the prosperous growth of this tall wood.
         LADY. Nay, gentle shepherd, ill is lost that praise
That is addressed to unattending ears.
Not any boast of skill, but extreme shift
How to regain my severed company,
Compelled me to awake the courteous Echo
To give me answer from her mossy couch.
         COMUS: What chance, good lady, hath bereft you thus?
         LADY. Dim darkness and this leafy labyrinth.
         COMUS. Could that divide you from near-ushering guides?
         LADY. They left me weary on a grassy turf.
         COMUS. By falsehood, or discourtesy, or why?
         LADY. To seek i’ the valley some cool friendly spring.
         COMUS. And left your fair side all unguarded, Lady?
         LADY. They were but twain, and purposed quick return.
         COMUS. Perhaps forestalling night prevented them.
         LADY. How easy my misfortune is to hit!
         COMUS. Imports their loss, beside the present need?
         LADY. No less than if I should my brothers lose.
         COMUS. Were they of manly prime, or youthful bloom?
         LADY. As smooth as ****’s their unrazored lips.
         COMUS. Two such I saw, what time the laboured ox
In his loose traces from the furrow came,
And the swinked hedger at his supper sat.
I saw them under a green mantling vine,
That crawls along the side of yon small hill,
Plucking ripe clusters from the tender shoots;
Their port was more than human, as they stood.
I took it for a faery vision
Of some gay creatures of the element,
That in the colours of the rainbow live,
And play i’ the plighted clouds. I was awe-strook,
And, as I passed, I worshiped. If those you seek,
It were a journey like the path to Heaven
To help you find them.
         LADY.                          Gentle villager,
What readiest way would bring me to that place?
         COMUS. Due west it rises from this shrubby point.
         LADY. To find out that, good shepherd, I suppose,
In such a scant allowance of star-light,
Would overtask the best land-pilot’s art,
Without the sure guess of well-practised feet.
        COMUS. I know each lane, and every alley green,
******, or bushy dell, of this wild wood,
And every bosky bourn from side to side,
My daily walks and ancient neighbourhood;
And, if your stray attendance be yet lodged,
Or shroud within these limits, I shall know
Ere morrow wake, or the low-roosted lark
From her thatched pallet rouse. If otherwise,
I can c
Nat Lipstadt May 2014
~ ~ ~
Adieu!
My Crew, My Crew!


this, our first trip,
our longest voyage,
nears completion

eighteenth of May,
a terminal date,
date of destination,
upon it commenced,
upon it,
our commencement

a terminus nearing,
a degree of latitude given,
a degree of longitude observed,
by you
mes méridiens,
witnesses to my zenith,
a degree of gratitude granted
and lovingly recv'd

adieu, adieu!
this sole~full rhyme
beats upon my lips
repeats and repeats,
endlessly looped,
Adieu, my crew!

sailor, voyageur,
scribe and travel guide
for four seasons,
a composition of one long
anno sabbatico,
muy simpatico

in the spring of '13
I sprung up here,
a Mayflower,,
a May flower,
a floral ship,
annual for a single year,
annual for a single circumnavigation

hearing now once again,
refreshing sounds,
hinting noises,
here comes his paul simonizing summery spring again,
rhyming timing reminding dylan style,
it's all over now, my babies blue

t'is season to move forward,
back to old acquaintances renewed,
sand, water and salty sun,
three lifelong friends who,
Auld Lang Syne,
never ever forget me

we get drunk on their eternity,
their celestial beauty,
and they,
upon my tarnished earthly being,
unreservedly and never judgingly,
give inspiration unstintingly,
we share,
never measuring a captain's humanity
by mystical formulae of reads or hearts

for
grains of sand, water wave droplets and sun rays,
all
only know one measure,
immeasurable

respect the
never-ending new combinations
of an old nature,
even the impoverished words he speaks,
words as they exit the
brain's grand birth canal,
whimsically announcing their poetic arrival with a:

"been here, done that,
but happy to do it,
one more time,
just ever so differently"


the only counting
that satisfies them and me,
the clicking sound be,
the sound of a
a pointer-finger tablet-clicking,
heartbeats a metering,
individual letters being stork-delivered,
and

yellow lightening
when it comes,
signifying family completion,
a poem,
a family,
comes
crackling real!

here comes spring again!
happily to shackle me,
shuckling me back to and fro,
to whence I came,
and from
whence I once
and always belonged

memorial weekend,
memorializing me,
orchestrating a prodigal son's
two edged tune,
a contrapuntal contrapposto,
a "fare-thee-well, man"
and a
"hello son, welcome home!"

that empty Adirondack chair,
by my name,
with your names
in tears inscribed upon it,
awaits

the breezes take note,
singing a duopoly:

this ole chair
needs refilling,
Rest & Recreation for your Rhythm & Blues,
your busted body boy
healing with our natural scents,
calming with common sense

with it,
will and refill,
the cracked breaches,
by phonetic letters frenetic,
drinking, then purge-spilling,
a speckled spackling paste of comfort food words
given of and given by,
given back to,
the bay's tide
and beaches
and

you, crew,

let this soul captain briefly lead,
spilling too oft his new seed,
he,
selected but unelected by a
raucous silent voice-vote...
of an unknown,
impressed-into-service crew

some of you
impressed upon
the skin of this captain man's sou!,
a cherishment so complete,
yet has he to fully comprehend,
its miracality,
the golden epaulettes upon his shoulder,
worn ever proudly

the nearest ending,
one of many.
a course of waterfall and rapids survived,
yet invisible shoals fast approaching,
a single bell tolling, warning,
here was, here comes,
yet another,
close calling

sirens shriek
forewarning,
can't abide a moment longer thus,
desperate longing
for a refuge of language loved,
not lost in lands and a sea of
ranted bittersweet journaled cant
and hashtags of sad despair

can't lengthen this sway,
grant a governor's stay,
cannot

heaven schedules our lives,
completed a time out
in a day,
twenty four hours of fabulous, fabled
and of late,
a shopworn, forlorn existence,
three hundred and sixty five times,
circularized on these pages

now
no forevermore, no forestalling,
only the truth,
a grizzled, unprimped,
mirror'd recognition

flutes,
sad low whistle,
trumpets,
wild maimed moan,
violins,
jenny jilted wailing tears, groan,
and harps and guitars,
each pluck single notes plaintive,
long and slow their disappearing reverberation,
but end it must

none can deny or fail to ascertain,
port of our joint destination,
pinpointed on maps as
"the last curtain call,"
just over the nearby horizon line,
demarcating the finality
of the days of glorious,
and the quietude of
a storied ending

my crew, my crew,
forever besided,
forever insided,
bussed, bedded, and bathed,
with me,

wherever I write most,
wherever I write eyes moist,
my crew
of all captains,
whose fealty I adore
and to whom,
my loyalty unquestioned sworn,
upon righteous English oak
an oath unstained,
an American bible, an American chest,
blood sworn here forever to
my
brothers, sisters and children
many who by title me addressed
this man as,
grandfather,
yet friends
from foreign-no-more-lands

this is only a poem,
this is only the best I have

This to me given,
and now to you returned,
encrusted with trust

for
we together,
were
a new combination
all our own

my crew, my crew,
for you:
my seasonal Yule log-life burns
every day,
all years of my life shiny shiny
copper-burnished teapot whistling
you, your names
a tune of the past,
and the yet to come

I care,
burdened more
than than you ere known,
dare I bear
to bare-confess

for and by you was I,
my restlessness lessened
my unrest less,
so comforted by an out-louded,
deep-welcome-throated reception
let it end thus,
no whimpers or cries,
no misunderstanding

in a Wilderness of Words,
sought you out,
your name and lands,
yours, purposely hidden,
disguised and unknown,

while I placed before you,
my name
my birthplace,
the poetry of my truths,
the jagged laughing,
the cryptic crying,
at myself,
foibles, pimples and the
the insights inside,
mine own book of revelations
all clear in the
drippings of my clarifying
cloudy tears

stranger to friends to chance,
all by chance,
sharing nodules, capsules,
even tumors and ill humors

your affection and simple heroism,
left me both gasping,
and leaves me now,
grasping

your hearts sustain
and are sustainable,
in ways the word,
organic,
not even remotely
adequate, sufficient

in ways
that can be secreted here,
in sharing,
private messages,
snippet exchanges,
that are valored above the rubies of
public hearts that
claim attention
but are gold bonded hand cuffs,
nonetheless!

my left, what is left,
to your strong right,
by rings married we are,
you and I,
a secretion on our kissing lips,
a perfumed essence called
No.365
"secrets of us..."

Wit I were a man
who could advance
his essay further,
but this voyage,
closed and done,
but a steamer approaches
where they need a third mate,
no questions asked,
no names exchanged,
no counting the change in his heart and the,
holes in his heart pocket

asking not,
are you friend long term true,
or just a fly by night,
short-winded trend

so onto
ports that are nameless,
needy for discovery,
perhaps,
they will have a fruitfulness
unripened,
awaiting verbal germination
so yet again,
when he wipes away
with back of a hand,
his fresh fears,
moistening those dried,
those crack'd lips

underneath will be yet found
a perhaps,
a
fully formed, yet to be shared,
new poem,
that gives value
standing on its own,
and perhaps, rewarming, reawakening,
his gone cold and pale,
yet quivering moving,
his almost stilled silenced spring,
but not quite,
lips...


--------------------------------

My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still,
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will,
The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done,
From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;
                         Exult O shores, and ring O bells!
                            But I with mournful tread,
                               Walk the deck my Captain lies,
                                  Fallen cold and dead.


                    
Walt Whitman
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
And the words that are used
For to get the ship confused
Will not be understood as they’re spoken
For the chains of the sea
Will have busted in the night
And will be buried at the bottom of the ocean

A song will lift
As the mainsail shifts
And the boat drifts on to the shoreline
And the sun will respect
Every face on the deck
The hour that the ship comes in

Then the sands will roll
Out a carpet of gold
For your weary toes to be a-touchin’
And the ship’s wise men
Will remind you once again
That the whole wide world is watchin’

bob dylan

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We'll meet beyond the shore
We'll kiss just as before
Happy we'll be beyond the sea
And never again I'll go sailing

I know beyond a doubt
My heart will lead me there soon
We'll meet (I know we'll meet) beyond the shore
We'll kiss just as before
Happy we'll be beyond the sea
And never again I'll go sailing

No more sailing
So long sailing
Bye, bye sailing...

Jack Lawerence
looking for me in other names, other places
an explanation someday writ, not yet complete....but my poetry no longer gives
no satisfaction...
Hibernating in the summer, not merely resting my voice, but more than that, much more...will repost older stuff only...
take care of the newbies
~~~~~
Should old acquaintance be forgot,
and never brought to mind?
Should old acquaintance be forgot,
and old lang syne?

For auld lang syne, my dear,
for auld lang syne,
we'll take a cup of kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.
And surely you’ll buy your pint cup!
and surely I’ll buy mine!
And we'll take a cup o’ kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.

We two have run about the slopes,
and picked the daisies fine;
But we’ve wandered many a weary foot,
since auld lang syne.

We two have paddled in the stream,
from morning sun till dine†;
But seas between us broad have roared
since auld lang syne.

And there’s a hand my trusty friend!
And give me a hand o’ thine!
And we’ll take a right good-will draught,
for auld lang syne.
Julian D Aug 2018
Blinded by the sunlight that shines so brightly,
it proceeds to massage my spectacles,
rinsing the grime away from my eyes,
there lived mankind, buildings, plants, and animals,
but where was I, unaware of the planet I saunter,
I look in amazement, unborn to what to forecast,
but then I distinguished the dark side, somber and bleak,
impoverished skeletons walking hunchbacked, desperately
scrambling for silver, as so to purchase a bottle of liquor and a burger to indulge his vacancy that absents him,
as I trek my way further into this metropolis,
I hear a sudden commotion arising from the right direction,
it begins to steer me that way, luring me in deeply there was a mass of onlookers chanting on, of what seemed to be two individuals pummeling one another into a bloodbath, but then it escalated, the crowd began to all partake in the beating and it caused a mayhem, that was uncontrolled, I bolted the scene, protecting my mask from getting dismantled, as suddenly I hear a very deafening noise, it was a four wheeler wagon, that speedily amtrac it's way towards the locus in which we was in, everyone scattered the scene, as the people who dressed in uniform annihilated the scene, putting an outright stop to the madness that occurred, forestalling future procreation from the participants, my heart shriveled and I gasped for air, I ran aimlessly into a town that was lively and sunny, as I saw mankind playing sports, clubbing, riding nice convertibles, homes were futuristic, plants were vegetated, smiles and giggles were infectious, everyone was cheerful and amused enjoying this utopian I discovered, it was care-free, as folks walked in suit and ties, formal dresses, luggages entering and exiting, dialect as clear as caribbean sea, friendly animals chaperoned by their owner, "where am I?", "what was this strange but yet interesting soil I embark on?", ..... I don't know, but it closes me in like a maze and I'm forced to live as they.
Use a little compassion
Show some humanity
Basted in boredom
In touch with insanity
How many flies will have to die
before her thirst is sated?
How many eyes will have to pry
to show what you've wasted?
Worming through the night
scheming, hell bent
forestalling my demise
with evil intent.
She'll tend the garden
Like a perfect person
But her heart is hardened
as she mixes the poison.
Beware the water
Beware the daughters
Beware the good Samaritan.
Sia Jane Mar 2015
My Traitor’s Heart

I cut your heart open with a knife,
And drink you up like the elixir of life.
My body would now be the perfect host
To house the remnants of your ghost
Forestalling your indignant daily riposte.

At the dining table, I compulsively realign
Silverware. I take a crystal glass, pour red wine,
Knowing I’ve committed a murderous sin
Goosebumps form on every inch of my skin
Dark memories resume within.

You spoke to me of girls undreamed-of
You taught me lessons of absent love
Such stories only fed my vengeance,
And now my body pays it's penance;
Flesh laid bare. A life sentence.

Tonight, I trace with fingers, tramlines of
Forgiveness; my Mourning Dove.
I am now so pure, and Satan
Cannot punish me with rattan
Palm. I was never part of his grand plan.

© Sia Jane
Another challenge with form as Elinor Wiyle's "Full Moon."
Glenn McCrary May 2012
Collages diffuse vanilla vistas
such effulgence waltzing to violet tempos
though the forestalling of waterfalls
evolves into a gargantuan war
weapons whistle from the mountains
beatitudes of mirth shan’t ever be eradicated
463

I live with Him—I see His face—
I go no more away
For Visitor—or Sundown—
Death’s single privacy

The Only One—forestalling Mine—
And that—by Right that He
Presents a Claim invisible—
No wedlock—granted Me—

I live with Him—I hear His Voice—
I stand alive—Today—
To witness to the Certainty
Of Immortality—

Taught Me—by Time—the lower Way—
Conviction—Every day—
That Life like This—is stopless—
Be Judgment—what it may—
Kagey Sage Nov 2021
Learn to write again
learn to type right
first time in 3 decades of life

I want to write closer to when I think
speed time, to slow it
make it feel like I do more
like I was in my teens or early twenties
****, these days 3 go by and it feels like one

I count my blessings to build confidence
Life grows more cruel but
I might win if I act like already won
Chaos magick, nay we do not speak of it

You forgot to pretend
to suspend quests for rationality
No longer moved by a book or film
We conditioned to be unconditioned
only to realize we ought to been wistfully in the herd
the whole time  
We're the Bodhisattvas forestalling enlightenment
to get drunk with the butchers
after decades of sober high ground
We're the over-analyzers
lamenting our anachronisms in self-assuring
new philosophies
Either fully embrace one or drop out of being smart at all
the only tolerable choice to start to enjoy life again
No, no it's a false dichotomy
I want to be the eternal well-wisher
no matter the decadent displays

The shared dream of a soon to be future
We scavenge and defend
through pockmarked streets
make shelters amid crumbling concrete
We forgot how to imagine a secure society
Measured expectations and social safety nets
they took it all away along with our balanced serotonin
I used to get all jazzed up over a library book
but now the images promise us much more bliss
right around the corner

But it never soothes
never comes close  
We cannot buy the contentment you claimed to offer
so we'll get it in collapse
We'll be sniped, starved, and deranged
but the thought of that life
makes us whisper excitedly to ourselves
"finally something has happened to me."

I, the eternal well-wisher
will wag no more fingers at preachers of death
Neither will I become them nor pity them
The light of heaven is flooding the earth
the depths of divine love flows through each birth
let us connect within each others hearts
at the moment with two to choose from the arts~

There stood their souls among the falling
dawn sat before the sunrise forestalling
as the moans were the deepest as they arose
the hurt is vulnerable like a black rose
in the forest that came way down deep alone
was the moan~

Dew drops in the dawn weighs down the petals
darkness, lightening, flames, in the fire of metals
burns deeply in the consciousness and flames
the wrath and anger can be felt that blames,
can reign deep in your bones
as the Storm brings the unconscious so alone
as it moans~

debbie
G Fairbairn Nov 2010
Interesting times
ancient curse
surprise
life a bother
delight
utter a scream
Day fills moment
disaster,pain,
disorder
outward looking
heart weeps.
Reasons given
blame delivered
consciousness mends
reaction fief
destructive noise
panic, fear, poise
all is forgiven
“God's Will”
Rise and fall
mind  forestalling
dark vision
ignores division
Notion lost.
Jack Rosette Apr 2011
Sitting staring at the swirls gently engraved upon the ceiling,
feeling faintly pessimistic that my hateful heart is healing.
Take apart the grace and art,
reveal my dated darkened past,
to harken back on wasted hours casting plaster for this mask.

It's cloudy colors cover up my crowded stream of conscience,
these teeming constants split between omitted and accomplished,
Scenes of trips and speeding fits
replaced by cleaner blips in truth
gleaning pictures of achievement, disconstruing youth uncouth.

Tall tales tinker with the crawling skin wherein my twin is toweled,
howling, hinting with appalling twitches, calling crying foul!
Small disguise in sprawling lies,
ensheathed, forestalling prying guests,
deflects the scrutinizing eyes of stressing restless wrecks.

My cranium co-ordinates claims stripped of contradiction,
wont to stitch the hidden patch on flaunted fabric fiction.
A daunting task, avaunt, at last,
concealed from haunting static force,
hiding flaws in paths of virtue drawn in divorced source and course.

Holding heaving out a haze, a cloud of extravented high,
sighs surrendered to the evening see my gracious ember die.
Praise condemns these sacred friends
with whom I stray from rendered paths,
preventing brash impatience from detaching this black mask.
Weirdest rhyme scheme I've ever used... made it rather difficult to construct, and took a much longer time than 5 stanzas should. But I'm happy with it.
Valerie Jun 2011
The ominous cloud
Looming on the horizon of your heart
Brings tears to my eyes
It's bittersweet and ****.

I wish, oh I wish
To send the cloud away
Like a Goddess of the Wind
I would blow it astray.

But every cloud has it's purpose
To let the rain fall in power
Though it's saddening at first
It cleanses, delightfully, even the wall-flower.

All I can do
Is provide the sunny rays
To warm the chill left behind
And brighten the darkness daze.

Though I wish to be a Wind Goddess
To stop the rain from falling
But I'd rather be of the After-Rain Sun
Instead of the forestalling.
SSK<3  AKA: Valerie Garcia
nawke Jun 2018
Night's falling
Sepi all around
Sun earth forestalling
New moon drowned
Darkly strife call-in
Army of stars in town

Minds' seeking
Cowered in light
Hearts sneaking
Shrouded in delights
Calmness Seriousness
Flames at height  

Time's flying
She never waited
Words are trying
Desires unrelated
Eclipse satisfying
Souls illuminated
Rex Allen McCoy Jan 2015
My easy-chair shifts closer to the hearth
with each passing winter
My ingle-nook...
forestalling isolation and despair

A wisp of smoke and the gentle song of embers
as flames engulf stale reality
with their golden glow
Stirring
merry voices
from so many years ago

Recalling...
the chime of Church-bells
faintly mingling
with the sound of carollers
weaving through streets
door to door
through the fresh trackless snow
Smiling eyes
singing
with hand in hand
Their warm wishes reaching out
and then hugs
before moving on
to the next Manor-house

Yet

One stayed on to linger ...

Songbook clutched across a breast
throbbing
to the feathered touch of fairy feet

One face...

framed by a wreath of flaxen hair

The shyest stare from downcast eyes

Cheeks... flushed to rose

and a voice that still whispers to my deepest parts


If only you knew that from that very moment
to this
you've brought to me
and always will
kindle my fondest memories
each fireside
~
Julian Jul 2022
he Evergreen Deal (A Solution to Climate Change)
Parlor Talk: The Evergreen Deal
so how do we REALISTICALLY  tackle the behemoths of careworn luxuries inoculated by degrees of wavy insouciant myopia that is too heavily invested in insuperable aristocratic prerogative rather than far-sighted eleemosynary altruism carved indelibly into the priorities of a growing desperation among world powers to heal our society with pragmatism rather than quixotic charades of intensive mobilization beyond the snatches of rigorous logic that they often neglect poorly conserved energy? We do it by taking steps to limit our consumption of materials that contribute to pollution, incentivize recycling for all appliances and in many cases plan biodegradable packaging rather than the dross of the antiquated strategies of disposal but this is obviously a phased rather than immediate solution. Absolutely central to this bipartisan proposal is that we should facilitate the adoption of more aggressive enlistment of the smart prerogative of adopting electric vehicles and relying more heavily on Hybrid Cars and what better way to do this than be ensuring that the limited range of pure galvanized altruism can be met with an infrastructure that ensures that a vast majority of gas stations punctuated in urban necessity, rural rarity and suburban commonplace greatly sanctions the prerogative of an environmental conscience to swim in the luxury of fully-enabled cross-continent travel with a considerable marginal decrease of fossil fuel footprints. We should not also stoop to the economics of purebred Fossil Fuel cartels that have a vested interest in forestalling advanced leaps in Hydrogen Fuel and the enlarged traction of electric power that discounts the environmental hinderbaggle rather than enthuses the already fickle demand which thrives in undeveloped nations that America, Canada and Europe can find quicker ways to expedite the adoption of revolutionary technologies forestalled by venality.  We should also lean on renewable energy with moderate economic sanctions that deregulate the arena of clean energy with tax incentives and shift the burden away from fossil fuel consumption by using complex econometric contingency analysis and deft marketing strategies that provide advantage to communities that rely on clean energy with free market emphasis. We should also hold fair and equitable talks about the proportional distribution of pollution and provide recourse and almsgiving for countries because of economic laxities rely on fossil fuels too heavily that need international assistance. We should also limit our showers to 5-7 minutes a day to conserve water and avoid baths whenever possible. It should be no surprise to anyone that people like Elon Musk (an Andrew Yang Democrat) are indebted to the powerful barnstorm of the ‘Kanye West’ visionaries that recognize the integral need for a bipartisan stroke of compromise that streamlines a heavily subsidized industrial rampage that proselytizes the advances in electric vehicles to find more universal pragmatic application. The wiredrawn quixotic prerogatives of the benumbed aboriginal Green New Deal which became a walking Nielsen test to field the discernment of the people that jump without conscientious refrains or the rigmarole of a growing environmental congress is telling in its original reception among the United States Senate. “In the 116th United States Congress, it is a pair of resolutions, House Resolution 109[8] and S. Res. 59, sponsored by Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez (D-NY) and Sen. Ed Markey (D-MA). On March 25, 2019, Markey's resolution failed to advance in the U.S. Senate in a margin of 0–57, with most Senate Democrats voting "present" in protest of an early vote called by Republicans It is clear that the environmental scourge that is the watershed of such decisive age in an epoch of demassified balkanization deserves a worthy emulation of the bipartisan ideals that harmonize the exigent efforts of reform without plastering the pretense of excessively gouged ******* that is a faltering malice of rudimentary extremism rejected by the vast majority of the discerning.
Greta Thunberg is admirable but the quixotic “Green New Deal” is too drastic for our economy to bear and it will create duress and potentially tank the economy because it is drastically overweight and an encumbrance on relatively free properly micromanaged and macromanaged economies that fuel speculative booms and provide bonanzas for inventive ingenuity in the arena of conservation science. We need geotechnic optimization on a global scale that asks of the people but does not mandate them to use providence and husbandry without asseverating ridiculous ploys to curb necessities like air travel and agricultural waste from cows like Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez suggests. We should create infrastructure projects but ensure that they mobilize proliferative on a moderate scale (that doesn’t ruin the private sector or indebt our nation too much with a debt burden growth) rather than boondoggles of stagnation that provide decent wages but only marginal gains in our strategic leverage to mobilize our resources with celerity tact and central command. We should consider multilateral agreements with the world that address these issues with dedicated science at the forefront of the vanguard propagating renewable energy and, in some cases providing means for nuclear power in areas that are not seismically vulnerable and well-contained. Nevertheless my heavy suspicion is that Donald Trump (in a widely jeered move misunderstood by many but obvious to the delegated diplomats more privy to the tertiary aims and secondary burdens lopsided against United States commitment despite the fact that the majority of the rambunctious ramshackle pollution is propitiated in a benumbed negligence among countries that should find more reasons to be obligated to a fairer agreement that doesn’t shortchange the United States) I firmly believe Trump withdrew because he realized a global problem was being levied with intolerable onerous burdens of an extremely lopsided bureaucratic mismanagement of a problem that needs to be shifted to many countries with a greater fairness in shared moral duty to carve a prosperous environmentally-centered priority.
The future starts here with us right now recognizing that we need to be smart but not hasty in development of deliberatively expedient by gradually phased geotechnically sound architecture and greenhouse farming in urban regions that can create urban forests for both verdure and pulchritude. Nevertheless because of corporate demands there should be zero impetuous mandates placed on any major corporations, but minor subsidies should be provided to encourage global outcomes. We will be greatly enhanced if to the Amazon and Africa (which needs some leveraged aid) to provide the leverage necessary to combat the aleatory vagaries of conflagration by creating fleets of airplanes armed with powerful agents of extinguishing chemicals that don’t endanger the topsoil even though most are proven innocuous.
The best way to secure a clinched future is to prevent unwieldy economic factures that obvolute the problem by departing too drastically from a free market model that emphasizes designing non-ergonomic structural models for architecture and infrastructure and to ensure that the process of recycling is a net decrease in emissions by streamlining the recycling process over the course of the next four to eight years. Heavy polluters and chemical factories need stricter oversight especially in their reckless pollution of the worlds oceans and rivers and the sanitation system needs a decades-long gradate overhaul so that waste matter doesn’t contaminate the biosphere to the ultimate tragedy of degradation and rancid squalor. Ultimately CFCs are a big menace and certain chemicals contribute more heavily to ozone depletion which fuels the iterative cycles of deglaciation. Another necessity is that we mandate all major geographically distributed gas stations provide electric recharging stations so that electric cross-country car travel is more feasible incentivizing electric cars to reduce emissions. We should also create infrastructure projects in California to create high-speed rail by 2030 so that there is less car-bound cabotage on the west coast which is heavily overpopulated and profligate in their ostentation of rugged individualistic twinges that celebrate bulk and garnish the varnish of luxury but falter in their commitment to a beatific world. This will create needed jobs for the growing population of California and benefit everyone by reducing the air travel burden for local flights. We also must be wary of solvents and aerosols which damage the integrity of atmospheric conditions that could aggravate the greenhouse effect disproportionately for even small-time polluters and this problem is easier to tackle than the global imperative for expedited solutions to mobilize the economy in an efficient way without being too quixotic. Remember, however, some countries in Asia like India need more incentives to stop using fossil fuels because 14 out of the top 15 most polluted cities in the world are in India and their population boom could spell a disaster unless we provide diplomatic synergistic agreements to stem the tide or reckless over-pollution in urban mega cities in developing nations. Once we realize that the United States is not the only problematic nation in the climate change frenzy, we will realize that we need a global quorum to advise synergistic solutions without resorting to excessive taxation. Ultimately one of the best ways to address this problem is to provide incentives for India which is already a nuclear nation to start building nuclear power plants in a phased solution that can be abetted by reducing tariffs and macroeconomic incentives for a quick solution rather than a protracted endangerment of the climate. China is already working diligently to solve this problem, but more attention is needed in some megapolises in China to work for climate solutions with the rest of the world. Some suggest a Carbon Tax, but I am somewhat opposed to the idea unless it is managed carefully and not greedily by tumescent governments looking for a quick bonanza. Ultimately the easiest way to fix the climate crisis is to be very careful about chemical disposal and ensure that aerosols are widely contained with proper ventilation systems that are occluded from affecting atmospheric conditions. This can be done in a stepwise and methodical manner that does not put a burden on the chemical industry but rewards them for slightly stricter standards gradually evolving into sustainable solutions. We don’t need to mandate every gas station to have electric charging but at intermittent geographical intervals there is a necessity to have electric charging stations because they become redundant in urban areas while incentivizing electric and hybrid cars. The United States is not the main contributor to climate change and we can’t eliminate all emissions especially when they are vital to economic security, but these other measures will ensure a better future. Obviously the fossil fuel juggernaut is opposed to many of these reforms but because we exist in a world of sad conveniences that exasperate the mercurial conditions of a world endangered by the potential 22nd century mass migration of those from Bangladesh and the American South we must view some statistics with skepticism while becoming fully invested to prevent a Wall-E world because pollution is not merely a predicate of environmental debauchery but a needed imperative of biodegradable solutions and streamlined recycling that doesn’t incur such heavy energy costs in the rigmaroles of its process. Obviously partisan Republicans worry about Coal Power but such a marginal plucky insistence upon West Virginia in the need to pander shouldn’t outweigh a more global mission to educate the global populations that need to become more conscientious with an expansive conscience that many developing world mistakes require subsidized (potentially to safer degrees that aren’t an excessive drainage) solutions so that bipartisan sheen of a syncretic reform achieves a mobilized objective to restrain the scourge of pollution and inculcate (to the extent that exasperated sophistries designed to instill imperative lies of looming immediacy) the world to become more respectful of their Carbon Footprints. The easiest solutions to heal lie in chemical waste because over time these elements do not degrade and they infiltrate the Ozone Layer and are easier to phase out. The Evergreen Deal tackles many exigent problems and is not riddled by insufficient extremism but moderate bipartisan appeal. In addition we should mobilize fire brigades in every Western European country yet inured to sweltering heat that they might be better outfitted. We should abandon plastic bags and make the world geotechnic in biodegradable solutions
After wide-set earthen towers mask
the highway runoff, campers come off lofty
horses, signal boorishness to breeze. Sat alone
where rolling orange will tease
the peace from perfect dark - the hint of dread
forgoing litness to expose a martial bode -

the low-slung limbs of stern bring
trained to-wrist like faithful,
catching glimpses of what common good
afforded us naff hazes like the present
sickle answer, whale-bone grief and prescient
danger. Fix a poultice,
love’s soft landing seldom not
for treasures come.
Revive the brazen lungs

in boasts of rushes, random-lit,
forestalling sodden semblances of wit
from Sunday’s arsenal -
right-matched to cleaner absences
than your limited souls could ever pare.

She’s felt - a fabric after our own hearts,
a loan from common waltzes,
taciturn in downshifts of this archen land -
of course - of hand, a slight
anomaly for watchers to observe.
Each roadblock touches nerve.
Brogan Long Mar 2018
A girl full of promise and wonder
but she was hit by malice and fell under

You blame her for falling
but how could you shame her for she was only forestalling

You care about her and you don't want her to give in
yet you don't bare with her and that is unforgiven
.
The spouse betook monthly outing
today May 4th, 2022
to 3938B Ridge Pike,
Collegeville, Pennsylvania 19426.

No more bare cupboards,
fridge, and deep freezer
since returning with more than
our share of daily bread,
plus other sundry provisions
referring to this mister, who
frightfully squawks like an old geezer,
ruler of roost,
plus the missus – ole hen pecker
nevertheless, neither of us
ain't no spring chicken

being locked within crosshairs
constituting elderly stage,
she doth dread
feeling like a charity case
swallows her pride,
cuz ample carload for us,
alleviating this *** searching
for crumbs to tweezer,
thus  raw bits of powdermilk biscuits,
I need not scavenge, scrape, scrounge...
substantial commestibles

allows poet taster to breathe easy
inadequately satiates the missus,
(whose Godzilla appetite) defies
(cole) laws of nature to beef fed
predominantly healthy food,
that weighted our automobile like a led
zeppelin choking, intermittently
kickstarting, sputtering... along,
asper in (faux wheel) drive wheezer
putting utmost pressure
borne by taxing groovy tire tread.

Once mission (not so impossible,
but blessed relief) complete, I did aim
upon returning where we live
to acknowledge gratitude and claim
salvation for charitable deeds,
yours truly doth exclaim,
these volunteers, none I know by name,
nonetheless, a hearty poetic L'Chaim
afforded folks, who commandeer,
confidently coordinate quite efficient process

despite minor lament regarding
heavy toll stressing bulwark
quaking chassis, ripsnorting driveshaft,
shimmying entire automobile frame...,
hence no matter
our exhausted 2009 Hyundai Sonata
puttered along somewhat lame,
kudos to dedicated good samaritans,
worth their weight in gold to tame
hungrily growling, noisily rumbling tummies.

Healthy choices allow, enabled,
and provided us to secure provender
eases glum countenance of this clown
gratuity finds me bowing down
paying metrical obeisance
versus depleting meager monies
engendering botox frown
nipping in bud
forestalling need going
to preferred market such as
Aldi, LIDL, Redner's, Target
or Trader Joe's grocery shopping
to the nearest town.
No more bare cupboards,
fridge, and deep freezer
since returning with more than
our share of daily bread
referring to this mister, who

frightfully squawks like an old geezer,
plus the missus
also ain't no spring chicken,
being locked within crosshairs
elderly stage, she doth dread

ample carload for us,
alleviating this *** searching
for crumbs to tweezer,
thus powdermilk raw bits of biscuits,
I need not scavenge, scrape, scrounge...

substantial commestibles
allows poet taster to breathe easy
inadequately satiates the missus,
(whose Godzilla appetite) defies
(cole) laws of nature to beef fed
predominantly healthy food,

that weighted our automobile like a led
zeppelin choking, intermittently
kickstarting, sputtering... along,
asper in (faux wheel) wheezer
putting utmost pressure
borne by taxing groovy tire tread.

Once mission (not so impossible,
but blessed relief) complete, I did aim
upon returning where we live
to acknowledge gratitude and claim
salvation for charitable deeds,

yours truly doth exclaim,
these volunteers, none I know by name,
nonetheless, a hearty poetic L'Chaim
afforded folks, who commandeer,
confidently coordinate quite efficient process

despite minor lament regarding
heavy toll stressing bulwark
quaking chassis, ripsnorting driveshaft,
shimmying entire automobile frame...,
hence no matter

our exhausted 2009 Hyundai Sonata
puttered along somewhat lame,
kudos to dedicated good samaritans,
worth their weight in gold to tame
hungrily growling, noisily rumbling tummies.

healthy choices allow, enabled,
and provided us to secure provender
eases glum countenance of this clown
gratuity finds me bowing down
paying metrical obeisance

versus depleting meager monies
engendering botox frown
nipping in bud
forestalling need going
grocery shopping
to the nearest town.

— The End —