"unreturning" poems
The Guadalquivir river
Flows between orange and olive.
Two rivers of Granada
Come down from snow to wheat field.
Ah, Love, the unreturning!
4.3k
Now do our eyes behold
The tidings which were told:
Twin fallen kings, twin perished hopes to mourn,
The slayer, the slain,
The entangled doom forlorn
And ruinous end of twain.
Say, is not sorrow, is not sorrow's sum
On home and hearthstone come?
Oh, waft with sighs the sail from shore,
Oh, smite the ***** cadencing the oar
That rows beyond the rueful stream for aye
To the far strand,
The ship of souls, the dark,
The unreturning bark
Whereon light never falls nor foot of Day,
Even to the bourne of all, to the unbeholden land.
3.2k
Ever again to breathe pure happiness,
So happy that we gave away our toy?
We smiled at nothings, needing no caress?
Have we not laughed too often since with Joy?
Have we not stolen too strange and sorrowful wrongs
For her hands' pardoning? The sun may cleanse,
And time, and starlight. Life will sing great songs,
And gods will show us pleasures more than men's.
Yet heaven looks smaller than the old doll's-home,
No nestling place is left in bluebell bloom,
And the wide arms of trees have lost their scope.
The former happiness is unreturning:
Boys' griefs are not so grievous as our yearning,
Boys have no sadness sadder than our hope.
2.5k
Go from me, summer friends, and tarry not:
I am no summer friend, but wintry cold,
A silly sheep benighted from the fold,
A sluggard with a thorn-choked garden plot.
Take counsel, sever from my lot your lot,
Dwell in your pleasant places, hoard your gold;
Lest you with me should shiver on the wold,
Athirst and hungering on a barren spot.
For I have hedged me with a thorny hedge,
I live alone, I look to die alone:
Yet sometimes, when a wind sighs through the sedge,
Ghosts of my buried years, and friends come back,
My heart goes sighing after swallows flown
On sometime summer's unreturning track.
1.6k
The sky will never hold more
Than all the paths of soldiers’ unreturning,
Laid out the length of undone goodbyes.
Their eyes that sleep on the wind,
Palace of last breath,
And the rain that falls, expectant of windows,
And those left within to live without eyes.
May 27, 2019
May 27, 2019 at 7:50 PM UTC
today, you seem
to swim consciously
in the blurry happenings
absorptive
of both their chaotic canopies
and their knotted stilts
in substantial intertwining
your recent form, you
effervescing lightness, as i deep-delve
into your freeform spectacle
in scribes and silence
is
a contemplated combobulation
in almost a hidden haziness: there's
but a fiery flame within
in boundless lucidity
of the flaring galactical suns
and the sacred smoking eyeblack
smears around from cores, the blackwhole scripts
that you realized
and still in the go as you grow
full and null and full and null
and so. verse traverse
your phasal swings
unto that yielding amplitude
that one unreturning
singularity
.
Oct 5, 2017
Oct 5, 2017 at 4:32 AM UTC
These lines were found engraved on a sundial:
The shadow of my finger cast
Divides the future from the past;
Before it stands the unborn hour
In the darkness and beyond thy power;
Behind its unreturning line
The vanished hour, no longer thine;
One hour alone is in thy hands,
The now on which the shadow stands.
Jun 21, 2017
Jun 21, 2017 at 2:59 PM UTC