Poetry

requieMater

It's been some years since mother died

and yet not once since then

have I sat and cried

beside her grave.

A lovely woman, amply framed,

who favored, savored even

Emeraude, and blue jays,

daffodils, "Amazing Grace,"

and Chicken Cordon bleu,

and Brandy Alexanders.

But then the hateful cancers,

the horrible, insatiable crabs

devoured the flesh, they

destroyed the place in which she lived

the too short while she lived with us.

A gentle woman, and gracious,

she feared old age, the steady ebb,

the fading gifts of mind, of body

that left her father lacking simple dignities,

dependent. She knew: not knowing was no solace,

it was in fact much worse to her than just not having.

O how much more unfair: for leaving us too soon

she was not fully spared, or even some,

some twenty, thirty years of raging anguish,

the pain distilled it seemed in half a year as life

was rapid-boiled, was steamed from loving, jaundiced

bones, evaporated.

O but please and O but would

and O why could she not go gentle

O go gentle just O please go gentle

Please, and ...

and, finally

peace.

And no, since then not once

have I sat beside her grave.

But she has sat with me,

within my heart, and tried

to mend the broken places

--with daffodils, "Amazing Grace,"

and the heady scent of Emeraude--

and kept me gentle company.

It's been some years

and still sometimes

I sit and cry

a lonesome

tear.

COMMUNION

The sky in doubt,

dusk tears the light.

This twilight time

when "tears of night ...

by ones and twos"

begin, then flow.

Uncertain, sobbing

torrents sieze,

take siege.

But darkness

(soon day's weeping ends)

envelopes doubt.

And peaceful night--

transcendent, soothing

--woos, amends.

Amen, and peace.

Full night about,

and stars and awe:

the stars like

souls alight.

A choir of souls,

a single voice,

one light, one soul

--your soul a part.

A choir apart

a part of all,

a light of souls,

one voice.

This night of awe,

of stars, the sky

and peace.

MIRAGE

The mirror: broke;

the image: scattered.

Shattered hope holds fast

in troubled flesh.

From splintered glass

shallow wounds soon mend.

Scars faded, soon forgot

(or late forgiven)

HELLSCAR

Hell hath no fury,

Lost love leaves no scar

As hateful and worrisome

As an ill-tempered car.

HOT ROD

You're feelin' tense alone at home

so take a hit and hit the road.

The sky looks pissed or maybe stoned

on neon.

Your hot-rod purrs, your Hot Rod stirs,

you're feelin' BAD and wailin', sailin' free...

Control is oozin' but you ain't losin' it (oh no)

or Nothin'.

You rush along to nowhere good

Should some "gash" pass

(a "piece of ass" a "pie to slice")

you idle by and bray some inane

epithet:

"Hey, bay-bay-baby!" to impress some bro.?

or may-may-maybe to turn a head

to feed your own misguided, misplaced

self-esteem

(you stupid slimy selfish supercilious

orifice)

Or what's much worse (or much the same)

you think: "All babes is 'ho'es who need

the likes of Me to make 'em smile and coo"

(it's sad to think that some girls do)

But say a prayer 'cause sane girls don't.

Go trip and trick and race alone into

oblivion.

A WINTER'S MONTH

A winter's month of springtime's days

wondered at the season's change,

and challenged trees and Lenten flowers,

swayed from care, to sprout and bloom.

Bold lovers wooed while children danced,

and daring buds (as from Jesse's branch)

peeked out mid-winter, mid un-April showers,

fooled by the sun to discount the moon.

Sly winter then, too long dismissed,

betrayed Love's garden with an icy kiss,

and chilled the soul and bade it cower,

and changed Love's bower to a frozen tomb.

"Jesus arose!" waking hills would proclaim,

but, dumbstruck, no chorus of flowers remained

thus to sing. Like a too-anxious lover,

spring came too soon.

EXQUISITE MISTS

An exquisite mist floats gentle

on the sultry perfumed breeze

of summer's silent mid-night,

and mirrored moonlight graceful

dances as the timid-breaking waves

massage with whispers

the long expanse of lisping sands

that measure slowly lonesome heart-beats

of the timid, breaking waves,

and exquisite mists float warm

and gentle.

YUPPIE MATINS

(The Meaning of the Dawn)

It seems with forlorn songs that mourning doves

mistake the meaning of the creeping dawn

and ululate when dreams release their hold,

and eulogize the dying of the stars.

"When Phoebus comes to counsel and console ,

To wash the slumber off dawn's ruddy face ,

Then waking morning-glories glow with dew,

And lowing cattle pace their well-trod way." "

(Kyrie eleison)

So, too, slowly, we suit up and follow suit

while distant steel/glass towers capture light

and gleam like votive candles: silent, tall--

bright beacons of prosperity and hope.

(Christe eleison)

They beckon and we rush to heed their call

(sustained by bacon, coffee and croissants)

and mockingbirds sing lauds and then reprise,

and, peopled, streets and sidewalks are revived.

(Kyrie eleison)

But as the chill subsides and shadows shrink,

through unwashed, hungry lips a child sighs low

for daylight robs her only home-of-dreams.

Her hope sinks fast. A mocking bird sings on.

CHRISTIAN LOVE

(or, fundaMental)

T. Wolfe quothe,

"God Love's Them Both"

(though not, of course,

in the same room)

OmniThisThatAndTheOther

makes no mistakes so call me "Brother,"

nigger.

Further: "We hold these truths to be"

--but wait! Not quite the same...

that "Mark of Cain"

(D'ya hear the one?...

An apple pluck'd

The price: her pain

And youth eternal

Down the drain)

"God Loves Them Both"

We's awll Gawd's chil'en

(except, of course,

for those goddamnfaggots)

Lead Us, Good Shepherd

(Hymn text, for Sunday Morning Service Music, No. 3)

We come before you, Lord,

Your praises singing;

We come to hear Your word:

Hear our thanksgiving.

Enter our hearts we pray;

Our fears and faults allay,

And lead us night and day,

Lead us, Good Shepherd.

Come, Lord of Time and Earth,

Keep us from judging;

Help us see others' worth

Without begrudging.

Lord, help us put aside

Our selfishness and pride,

And ever be our guide,

Lead us, Good Shepherd

Savior of Age and Youth

In every nation,

Bind now all hearts in truth,

Love, and compassion.

Teach us to shun offense,

Free us from arrogance,

Lead us to tolerance,

Lead us, Dear Shepherd.

We kneel before you, Lord,

Our sins confessing;

We now implore you, Lord,

Grant us your blessing.

You are our Sole Defense;

Restore our innocence

Through your benevolence,

Merciful Shepherd.

Ever be with us Lord, (DESCANT: Be with us, Lord),

Our souls embracing. (Our souls embracing).

Savior, by us adored, (Savior adored),

Our sins erasing: (Our sins erasing):

Guide and protect, we pray, (Guide and protect now, we pray),

Those here and those away (Those here and all those so far away),

Who follow, night and day, (We will follow You night and day.),

You, Loving Shepherd. (Lead us, we will follow, Good Shepherd).

For Matthew (Lament & Prayer)

Lament

Wyoming stars in silent horror cried

as Satan's fists struck hard again,

then crucified God's gentle child.

And there the weeping night in disbelief beheld

a broken boy's despair: chilled bones, alone,

barefoot and bleeding, swaddled in an icy shroud

distilled and crystallized from autumn's tears.

O hear the first bird's cry

and feel the breaking of his heart

to realize his mother's grief.

Prayer

Why own this fear? Our silence multiplies,

condemning us complicit in his pain,

complacency our guilty wile.

Now pray his suffering might our apathy dispel;

let hopeful deeds amend and help atone.

No hateful shouts of rage--but let us call aloud

for justice, truth, and love, from sorrow's haze.

O hear the first bird's cry

and heed the waking in our hearts

lest death be vain. Rest, Matthew. Peace.

CLICK HERE for a recording of a choral setting of "For Matthew"

Astronomy (Song for Maureen)

There's Jupiter ...

It's like five million miles away,

but textbooks never mention "up"

--I guess 'cause everything is relative.

I'll bet it's lonely there.

I know it's lonely here

without her.

I'm wondering,

how far away is heaven?

Some say it's just beyond these stars ...

I guess a song won't have the answer,

but I bet it's lovely there.

I know it's lonely here.

And if home is where the heart is,

well, then mine's beyond those stars,

a million broken pieces

out of reach.

I'm wondering

if there's a God in heaven,

and can He turn this night to dawn?

I know a song can't hold the answer,

but she won't be lonely there.

But god, it's lonely here ...

And if home is where the heart is,

well, then mine's beyond those stars,

a million broken pieces

out of reach.

Now I'm wondering,

how far away is heaven?

Some say it's just beyond those stars.

I know a song can't hold the answer,

but you won't be lonely there.

God knows, it's lonely here,

so lonely. It's lonely here

without you.

CLICK HERE for a recording of a choral setting of "Astronomy"