A Poem In Fragments Beginning With A Line From Berryman, Black Mouse Series Ensuing
[the poem begins with a line by John Berryman ending with the word 'honey']
Childness let's have us honey, flame intended,
names smeared on the glass, an accidental pane
times hands touching it delicate as trespass,
what is allowed lace of vision times want equals
at last a sum equals at last a remorse felt,
a memory - sunk into soft teas - steeping, turns
steaming said window said prints/views obscured
of nothing in particular or special, troubles only,
only of passing birds enamored of (their lighter
bones) or are they cloud and shadow? merely the
steep sun declining ashen into the Jersey side?
*
O come lover back the floor where we lay a'times
upon boards the cluttered clothes the depositions
times at least three and take me once again one
times infinity into your arms times two leave me
when you/we are done doing times zero a mere cypher
flown sheer up the flue into the blue ash which now
the sky is where (there is only one sky) a dove flies
into possibility of memory or not times countless
thousands times plus the time it takes for you to
exit shedding skins, shells (am a shell, water you?
you decide) times infinity into the one drain in-
*
to ocean reflecting blue sky of ash blew into what
remains of you on the beach bathing soft Junes,
boardwalk organ grinder smiling/sings 'amor fati'
mellifluously on as hairs their bodies follicles
delicate when under the glass espied over-spills
into o endlessly it's seams, it seems, into memory
which is already over-said overheard redundantly a
river and time, this one recalled, the cloud drift
and the river the tides beside the city both sides
is as ancient as it always was and is - in the beginning
was darkness over deep water and a word, any word
*
really would do form something out of deep, of dark,
of water which shapes only by outer circumstance itself
in this case a word leading up to this contraction of
bellies against each times two, and legs times four,
and lips times myriad ones gone before - of murmurs
O lover of thee I adore - I am unkindly left remembering
once was laughter spent seeking out between bodies' valleys
eternally shifting eluding capture, this, just to reintroduce
some levity for we were many day-ed times merry-merrily
played harming no one not even the mouse unmoved per-
haps, watching perhaps, still, still, from beneath the
*
god you insisted be excluded from all our nakedness
times one too many breaths exchanged, groped times
many ropes all our wanting the curtained dancer en-
tranced entered into upon a mystery how one could be
so, well, so marvelous and so cruel too as one wills
memory - an edge tears open: Fact: that there was love,
there was love after all I could see it smell it feel
it there dancing round the living room one holds on
to, and upon goodness worn out pulled from below down
and dark and deep such is this so it is the riddle it
is all now become since you departed, love, since you
*
departed I shall count backward by threes then fours
the door which once embraced you now never lets you
go no matter the black or blue tide of thee O lover,
what slips out ebbs black back into lapis, lapses in-
to what self is uttered/poured scored transparent upon
surfeit surface/faces which are even eyes which now
glaze with love lost beside the flue marked upon the
pane blue the mouse black upon the floor remains is
many, a multitude of petals times three the jasmine
unspurned at last at last/least return soft Junes the
lips of which are sometimes pink of lavender swollen
*
as if to kiss times three the antinomies a string of
pearls and thee O lover to me back 'splaying shyly
where the curtains sway/stand behind them the curtained
dancer entranced/entered into upon a mystery the organ
grinder smiles/sings 'amor fati' mellifluously on
poem by Warren Falcon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Fragments Beginning With A Line By Berryman
for Karthik
Childness let's have us honey
flame intended
name smeared
on the glass
an accidental
pane
x hands touching it
delicate
as trespass
what is allowed
lace of
vision
x want
= at last a sum
= at last a remorse
felt
a memory
sunk into
soft teas
steeps
turns
steami ng
said window
said prints,
views obscured
of nothing
in particular,
or special,
troubles only,
only of passing
birds enamored
of
(their lighter
bones)
or
are they
cloud and shadow?
merely the steep
sun declining ashen
into the Jersey side?
O come lover
back
the floor where we
lay times upon boards
the cluttered
clothes the
depositions
x at least 3
and take me once
again one
x infinity
into your arms
x 2
leave me when
you/we are done doing
x 0
a mere cypher flown
sheer up the flue
into the blue ash
which now the sky is
where
(there is only one
sky)
a dove flies
into some possibility
of memory
or not
x 35 thousand
x plus the time it
takes for you to exit
shedding skins, shells
(am a shell,
water you?
you decide)
x infinity into
the one drain in-
to ocean reflecting
blue sky of ash
into what remains
of you on the beach
bathing soft Junes
the organ grinder
smiles/sings 'amor
fati' mellifluously
the boardwalk on
x planks from
many trees
x ants in the
roots lumber
their endless
burdens black
or red carapaces
shining as if
sand
x grains untold
as hairs their
bodies follicles
delicate when
under the glass
espied
over-spilling into
o endlessly
it's seams, it seems
into memory
which is, already
over-said
overheard redundantly
a river
and time,
this one
recalled,
the cloud drift
and the river
the tides beside
the city both sides
is as ancient
as it always was
& is
in the beginning
was darkness
over deep water
& a word, any word
really would do
form something
out of deep, of
dark, of water
which shapes it-
self only by outer
circumstance
in this case
a word
leading up to
this
contraction
of bellies
against
each
x 2, and legs
x 4, and lips
x myriad ones gone
before of murmurs
O lover
of thee
I adore
I am unkindly
left remembering
once was laughter
spent
seeking out
between bodies'
valleys eternally
shifting eluding
capture
this
just to re-
introduce some
levity for we
were many day-ed
x merry
merrily played
harming no one
not even the
mouse unmoved
perhaps, watching
perhaps, still,
still, from beneath
the god you insisted
be excluded from
all our nakedness
x 1 too many breaths
exchanged, groped
x many ropes all our
wanting
the curtained
dancer entranced
entered into
upon a mystery
how one could
be so, well,
so marvelous
& so cruel too
as one wills
a silver stem
sharp the metal
top jags memory-
edge tears open
facts
that there was love,
there was love after
all
I could see
it smell it
feel it there
dancing round
the livingroom
one holds
on to & upon
goodness brown
pulled from below
down & dark & deep
such is so
this is the
riddle it is
all now become
since you
departed, love
since you
departed I shall
count backward by
3's then 4's the
door which once
embraced you now
never lets you
go
no matter
the black or
blue tide
of thee
O lover
what
slips out
ebbs black
back into
lapis
lapses into what
self is uttered/
poured scored
transparent upon
surfeit surface
faces
which are
even
eyes which now
glaze with love
lost
beside the flue
marked upon the
pane blue
the mouse
black remains
is many
a multitude
of petals
x 3
the jasmine
unspurned
at last at
last/least
return
soft Junes
the lips of
which are
sometimes
pink of
lavender
swollen as
if to kiss
x 3 the antinomies
a string of pearls
& thee O lover
back to me
playing
loud where the
curtains sway
I stand behind
them the curtained
dancer entranced
entered into
upon a mystery
the organ grinder
smiles/sings 'amor
fati' mellifluously on
poem by Warren Falcon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Some Ways Of Looking At A Black Mouse
[to the reader:
This is part of a series poem...this one
follows 'Instead of You Today One Black Mouse'
which should be read before this one for greater
context. There is a playing going on in both
poems which is not only about love had and lost,
a black mouse that shows up, as well as a dove,
the day before the lover returns permanently
to live in native country of India. There is
a Wallace Stevens' playing with notions of
poetry, meaning, and more, and a playing with
language and signs which shall hopefully lend
some jarring but enjoyable takes/slants/songs/
glyphs.
When you see the 'x's
in the poem, read
'times' as in the
math sign for multi-
plication. & of course
the = sign should
be read as 'equals']
keep saying/
writing 'mouth'
when I want to
speak of the
black 'mouse'
which seems to
have left soon
after it appeared
as you departed.
'Mouth' and
'mouse',
'black mouth',
open and shut.
The window,
the casings
fall, clatter
scattering the
dove brown
upon the space
between the
escape escaping
what is become
poise no
longer.
'Mouth', the
stronger, is.
Is blackness,
I think, insisting
its way past thinking
into mouth or ink
so it is that
lips which are
sometimes pink,
swollen, as if to
kiss, miss the dove
by a wink, and the
mouse is somewhere
else,
at,
passed to
other spaces
still I feel you,
you're here, big
ears, black fur
of Mind
still love, I moan
this morning saying
aloud before the
covers are kicked
he is gone,
hands x 4
he is gone,
feet x 4
he is gone,
lips x 4
he is gone,
heavy groin x 2
he is gone,
heavy groan x 2
the chimney flue
suddenly
in a little
breeze from
above
loosens the ancient
ash from the caked
brick
x countless
number and the
anxious hands, again,
against the grain
x 4
push one finger
x 1
into that ash
writes
x 2 two names
plus 1 subtracted
from the empty
escape
x 1
and another day
of counting
minutes
hours
x seconds
of seconds is
begun begging
Love, yes,
backing in
the floor where we
lay our cluttered
clothes deposed
x at least 3
take me once
again one
x infinity
into your arms
x 2
and leave me when
you/we are done doing
x 0
a mere cypher flown
sheer up the flue
into the blue ash
which now the sky
is
where
(there is
only one
sky)
a dove flies
into some
possibility
of memory
or not
x 35 thousand
x plus the time it
takes for you to exit
shedding skins shells
(I am a shell)
x infinity into
the one drain in-
to ocean reflecting
the ash of what remains
of you on the beach
bathing soft Junes,
the organ grinder
smiles/sings 'te
amo, amor fati'
mellifluously
from the boardwalk
Coney cotton candy
disposed in gales
from breaking
waves, tumbles,
smears, speared
on the weathered
wood
x planks from
many trees
x ants in the
roots lumber-
ing their end-
less burdens
black or red
carapaces as
if shining
sand or sugar
unspun
x grains untold
as hairs, their
bodies follicles
delicate, when
under the June
glass espied
magnified count-
less, collected,
caught upon the
webbed threads
of your large
soft towel with
the palm tree
sewn upon
that I have burned
in the old grate,
a first fire
long awaited
x 30 years since
the last,
undisturbed by
carbon dates
x all times
black mouth
yawns sun into
the window frame
yellow the
other flame
intended name
smears on the
glass an accidental
pane, Mind
x hands touching it
delicate as trespass
what is allowed lace
of vision
x want
= at last a sum
= a remorse felt
memory
torques,
into soft
teas
June
steeps
tur ns
steaming
said window
(and torsos)
said prints
views obscured
of nothing
in particular or
special, but
troubles, troubles
only of passing
birds enamored-of
(their lighter
bones)
or
are they
cloud and shadow,
merely the steep
sun declining ashen
into the Jersey side?
occluded
silhouettes
contrails
glyphs &
Maxwell House
'Good To The Last Drop'
sign,
the familiar
cup for decades
tipped
tips &
one
(out-spilled)
drop
x 0 suspends
o suspends trembling
reflected in the water
river made of the many
countless drops
x (again) infinity
x (surprised) my
father there
(momento mori)
opening the
can all blue with
the same cup tilted
spilling that dark
brown dropp imprinted
x (the
dove, to recall,
brown, shaped like
said drop, now
flown, or) finally
spilled into water,
river currents
downward, to bottom
pulled sort/sift
my father always
complaining of grift,
a weather man by trade,
a cloud man once a pilot
WW2 drifting often since/
enough into sky,
he turns
the silver opener
butterflied
round and round
with effort, his
arthritic com-
plaints upon the
ridged silver top
of the can blue
with coffee
'course grind'
the better to drip
with within &
that satisfying
hiss of compacted
air hissing out
from within
compressed now
released
the smell
then
of coffee fresh
not yet brewed
in the kitchen
the twist of
the edge jagged
silver metal
carefully turned
with fingers to
break the remain-
ing stem of metal
holding the round
to can entire
unsealed now try
without spilling
the grounds
out
x at least 100 thousand
to guess having no
acumen with numbers
and math but father's
over
there in the cup tilted
over spilling into
o endlessly
it's seams, it seems
from river bank
into memory which
is, already
over-said
overheard redundantly
as river
and time,
this one
now recalled
to Mind, dad,
dad
the cloud drift
and the flows
the tides beside
the city
both sides
is as ancient
as it always was
& is
as in the beginning
was darkness over deep
water & a word, any word
really would do it,
form something
out of deep, of
dark, of water
which shapes it-
self only by outer
circumstance,
in this case
a word
leading up to
this -
Palisades cliffs
above bridge tilt
toward, always,
currents, the river
over-
flows north-
wards
tides rare defy-
ing the moon
that other pull,
you
live the other
side of
sand
the palm sewn
swaying adhered
to Mind
x 1
still, to pass the
time now
x 1
the sooty hand
x 1
over black
'mouth'
or word 'mouse'
allude perhaps
to river at
city's start
up from water
the silver bay
capped, remembering
frigates
x countless
ferries torn
and Tories be-
tween seas
wars
vast to
the east
x duplicating
waves, stretches
the narrows,
the necks with
rocks strewn,
the lonely buoyless
depths their vespers
intone
I am, unkindly,
left remembering
once was laughter
spent
seeking out
between bodies
valleys eternally
shifting eluding
rapture
x 1
whisper
hand over 'mouse'
or 'mouth' conjured
x 1 more
contraction
of sentinel
bells against
each of each
reaching
x 2, the legs
x 4, the lips
x myriad ones gone
before, of murmurers
O lover
of thee
I adore
the arms
x no more
embraces
This, just to
reintroduce some
levity
for we
were many day-ed
x merry
we merrily played
harming no one,
not even the
mouse unmoved
perhaps, watching
perhaps, still,
still, from beneath
the god you insisted
be excluded from
all our nakedness
x 1 too many breaths
exchanged, groped
x many ropes all our
wanting
father loves
with his cup
his pipe songs
of love
of love will
he dance between
the violent fasts
from love,
our mother, with,
fast around around
& around the danced
living room
phonograph brass
loud plays
where June
curtains sway
me and Mr. Miller
(Glenn)
I stand behind
them the curtained
dancer entranced
entered into/
upon a mystery
how one could
be so, well,
swell, so
marvelous &
so cruel, (upon
one silver stem
hangs the metal
tin top jags
tears at
memory edge
opens facts
FACT
that there was love,
there was love after
all
I can see
it smell it
feel it there
dancing round
the living
one dropp Mr.
Maxwell holds,
hold on to &
upon goodness
brown pulled
from below down
& dark into deep
such this is
the riddle it is
all now become
since you
departed, love
since you
departed I shall
count backward by
3's then by 4's
the
door which once
embraced you now
never lets you
go
x brooms
or releases
x all the x's
here accounted
for, listed,
besos as kisses
scribbles, notes,
letters,
no matter
the black or
blue tide
of thee
O lover
what
slips out
ebbs black
back into lapis
lapses into what
self is
uttered/poured,
scored trans-
parent upon
surfaces
faces which are
even
eyes which now
glaze with love/
loss
beside the flue
glaze upon the
pane
the black
mouse remains
stays,
is many,
a multitude
of petals
x 3
the jasmine
unspurned
at last
at last/least
O return
soft Junes
the lips of
which are
sometimes
pink, of
lavender
swollen, as if
to kiss
x memory
x Maxwell the
house the cup
O Mr. Miller
an O'Day serenade
plays close
...'Hi ho trailus
boot whip
boo boo daddy
floy floy'...
the late night
suppers of chops
the peeled onions
the laughter the
potatoes boil
& bubble in the
pot then
father
to dance
the butter in
the sizzle in
the cast iron
pan
their vespers
now descant,
descend
...'How high
the moon...
x 1 black 'mouth'
hungry
the
dish it has
all become
feast for
black 'mouth'
& mouse makes again
x 3 the antinomies
a string
of pearls
anemones
& thee O lover
bring all them
back, so many,
to me now
x Pennsylvania 6-500.
poem by Warren Falcon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Still Life With Coffee Can, Father, River, Bell, Mouse, Lover Fled
[poet's note to the reader:
read the 'x's' as the word
'times' as in multiplication]
This
just to
reintroduce some
levity
for we (loves)
were many day-ed
x merry
we merrily played
harming no one,
not even the
mouse unmoved
perhaps, watching
perhaps, still,
still, from beneath
the god you insisted
be excluded from
all our nakedness
x 1 too many breaths
exchanged, groped
x many ropes all our
wanting
I stand behind
them the curtained
dancer entranced
entered into/
upon a mystery
how one could
be so, well,
swell, so
marvelous &
so cruel upon
one silver stem
hangs the metal
tin top jags
tears at
memory edge
opens facts
now you, love
are new memory
hands emptier
sensitive finger-
tips filigreed
prints your
body hairs
sifted imprinted
touching softly
x all the x's
here accounted
for, listed,
besos as kisses
scribbles, notes,
letters,
no matter
the black or
blue tide
of thee
O lover
what
slips out
ebbs black
back into lapis
lapses into what
self is
uttered/poured,
scored trans-
parent upon
surfaces
faces which are
even eyes which
now glaze with
love/loss
beside the flue
glaze upon the
pane
black
mouse remains
stays,
is many,
a multitude
of petals
x 3
the jasmine
unspurned
at last
at last/least
O return
soft Junes
the lips of
which are
sometimes
pink, of
lavender
swollen, as if
to kiss
x memory
x 3
the antinomies
a string
of pearls
anemones
& thee O lover
bring all them
back, so many,
to me now
memory
torques
into soft
teas
June
steeps
turns
steaming
said window
(and torsos)
said prints
views obscured
of nothing
in particular
or special,
but
troubles,
troubles only
of passing birds
enamored-of
(their lighter
bones)
or
are they
cloud and shadow,
merely the steep
sun declining ashen
into New Jersey?
occluded
silhouettes
contra ils
glyphs &
Maxwell House sign
'Good To The Last Drop'
familiar
cup for decades
tipped
tips &
one
(out-spilled)
drop
x 0 suspends
O suspends trembling
reflected in the water
river made of the many
countless drops
x (again) infinity
x (surprised) my
father there
(memento mori)
opening the
can all blue with
the same cup tilted
spilling that dark
brown dropp imprinted
x (the
dove,
to recall,
brown, shaped like
said drop, now
flown, or)
finally
spilled into water,
river currents
downward, to bottom
pulled sort/sift
my father always
complaining of grift,
a weather man by trade,
a cloud man once a
pilotWW2 drifting
often since enough
into sky
he turns
the silver opener
butterflied
round and round
with effort his
arthritic com-
plaints upon the
ridged silver top
of the can blue
with coffee
'course grind'
the better to drip
with within that
satisfying hiss
compacted air
hissing out
from compression
now released
the smell
then of coffee
fresh not yet
brewed in the
kitchen
the twist of
the edge jagged
silver metal
carefully turned
with fingers to
break the remain-
ing stem of metal
holding the round
to the can entire
unsealed now try
without spilling
the grounds
out
x at least 100 thousand
to guess having no
acumen with numbers
and math but father's
over
there in the cup tilted
over
spilling into
o endlessly
it's seams,
it seems from
river bank
into memory
which is,
already
over-said
overheard
redundantly
as river
and time,
this one
now recalled
to mind,
dad
dad
the cloud drift
and the flows
the tides beside
the city
(both sides)
is as ancient
as it always was
& is
as 'in the beginning
was darkness over deep
water & a word, '
any word really
would do it,
form
something
out of deep,
of dark,
of water
which shapes
itself only
by outer
circumstance
in this case
a word
leading up to
this -
Palisades cliffs
above bridge
allude perhaps
to river at
city's start
up from water
the silver bay
capped, remembering
centuries' frigates
x countless
ferries torn
and Tories be-
tween seas
wars
vast to
the east
x duplicating
waves, stretches
the narrows
the necks with
rocks strewn,
the lonely buoyless
waves over depths
their vespers
intone
once was laughter
spent
seeking out
between bodies
continents
valleys eternally
shifting eluding
rapture
x 1 whisper
contraction
of sentinel
bells against
each of each
reaching
x 2,
the clappers
x 20,000
(of bells
anatomy there
is much to
say
(of the
elements,
zinc, copper,
tin, & more
while not for-
getting brass
more commonly
used)
of infusion
into cuppolas
the beating
the shaping
heat also to
be given account
amounts much into
bells conformed
gracefully out
in the end,
but only
as metal,
sharp tongues
blunted can of
bells then speak
tonally only
overtones inviolate
in violent swings
side to side the
hard knock shocks
into quakes into
belfry beyond
dance of iron
bronze overtaking
& annunciate
round of hammers)
so many dawns
x so many goings
down of the sun
x fortune the lips
x myriad ones gone
before of murmurers
O lover
of thee
I adore
in timbre
thru the
window rings
(the bells)
the arms
of which
too
wring out
breath to
breath
x no more
embraces
into indolence
This
(yet)
again
(late
offering)
just to
reintroduce some
levity
for we
(loves)
were many day-ed
x merry we
merrily played
harming no one,
not even the
mouse unmoved
perhaps, watching
perhaps, still,
still, from beneath
the god you insisted
be excluded from
all our nakedness
poem by Warren Falcon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Of Bells Anatomy There Is Much
of bells
anatomy there
is much to
say
of the
elements,
zinc, copper,
tin, & more
while not for-
getting brass
more commonly
used
of infusion
into cuppolas
the beating
the shaping
heat also to
be given account
amounts much into
bells conformed
gracefully out
in the end
but only
as metal,
sharp tongues
blunted can of
bells then speak
tonally only
overtones inviolate
in violent swings
side to side the
hard knock shocks
into, quakes into
belfry beyond
dance of iron
bronze overtaking
&
annunciant round
of hammers
so many dawns
times so many
goings down of
the sun
O lover
of thee
I adore
in timbre
thru the
window rings
the arms too
cling wring
out
breath to
breath
outreach this
to introduce some
levity
for we (loves)
were many day-ed
times merry
we merrily played
harming no one,
the god you insisted
be excluded from
all our nakedness
many breaths
exchanged, groped
times the many
ropes
all our
wanting
hands emptier
sensitive finger-
tips filligreed
prints your
body hairs
sifted imprinted
touching softly
no matter
the black or
blue tide
of thee
O lover
what
slips out
ebbs black
back into lapis
lapses into what
self is (a bell
shaped fiercely
formed)
uttered/poured,
scored trans-
parent upon
surfaces
faces which are
even
eyes which now
glaze with love/
loss
a multitude
of petals
peels
the jasmine
unspurned
at last
at last/least
O return
soft Junes
the lips curved
out to ring
sing of
which are
sometimes
pink, of
lavender
swollen
as if to kiss
the antinomies
a string
of pearls
anemones
& thee
bring all them
back, so many,
to me now
their vespers
once was laughter
spent
seeking out
between bodies
continents
valleys eternally
shifting eluding
rapture
contraction
of sentinel
bells against
each of each
reaching
the clappers
their constraining
rounds in too too
secure now rafters
poem by Warren Falcon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Evocation of River and Spirits
in this city
to guess
having no acumen with
numbers and math but
father's over there
in the cup tilted
over
spilling into
o endlessly
it's seams
it seems
from river bank
into memory which
is - already
over-said
overheard redundantly
as 'river
and time'
- this one
now recalled
to Mind, dad
dad
the cloud drift
and the flows
the tides beside
the city
(both sides)
is as ancient
as it always was
& is
as in the beginning
was darkness over deep
water & a word, any word
really would do it,
form something
out of deep, of
dark, of water
which shapes it-
self only by outer
circumstance,
in this case
a word
leading up to
this -
Palisades cliffs
above bridge tilt
toward, always,
currents,
the river
over-
flows north-
wards
tides rare defy-
ing the moon
that other pull,
you
live the other
side of
sand
the palm sewn
swaying adhered
to Mind
x 1
still, to pass the
time now
x 1
the sooty hand
x 1
over black
'mouth'
or word
allude perhaps
to river's at
city's start
up from water
the silver bay
capped, remembering
frigates
x countless
ferries torn
and Tories be-
tween seas
wars
vast to
the east
x duplicating
waves, stretches
the narrows,
the necks with
rocks strewn,
the lonely buoyless
waves over depths
their vespers
intone
once was laughter
spent
seeking out
between bodies
continents
valleys eternally
shifting eluding
rapture
x 1
whisper
contraction
of sentinel
bells against
each of each
reaching
x 2, the clappers
x 20,000
(of bells
anatomy there
is much to
say
(of the
elements,
zinc, copper,
tin, & more
while not for-
getting brass
more commonly
used)
of infusion
into cuppolas
the beating
the shaping
heat also to
be given account
amounts much into
bells conformed
gracefully out
in the end,
but only
as metal,
sharp tongues
blunted can of
bells then speak
tonally only
overtones inviolate
in violent swings
side to side the
hard knock shocks
into, quake into
belfry beyond
dance of iron
bronze overtaking
&
annunciant round
of hammers)
so many dawns
x so many goings
down of the sun
x fortune the lips
x myriad ones gone
before of murmurers
O lover
of thee
I adore
in timbre
thru the
window rings
the arms too
wring out
breath to
breath
x no more
embraces
into indolence
This, just to
reintroduce some
levity
for we (loves)
were many day-ed
x merry
we merrily played
harming no one,
not even the
mouse unmoved
perhaps, watching
perhaps, still,
still, from beneath
the god you insisted
be excluded from
all our nakedness
x 1 too many breaths
exchanged, groped
x many ropes all our
wanting
father loves
with his cup
his pipe songs
of love
of love will he
dance between
the violent fasts
from love,
our mother,
with,
fast around around
& around the danced
living room
phonograph brass
loud plays
where June
curtains sway
me and Mr. Miller
I stand behind
them the curtained
dancer entranced
entered into/
upon a mystery
how one could
be so, well,
swell, so
marvelous &
so cruel, (upon
one silver stem
hangs the metal
tin top jags
tears at
memory edge
opens facts
FACT
that there was love,
there was love after
all
I can see
it smell it
feel it there
dancing round
the living
one dropp Mr.
Maxwell holds,
hold on to &
upon goodness
brown pulled
from below down
& dark into deep
such this is
the riddle it is
all now become
since you
departed, love
since you
departed I shall
count backward by
3's then by 4's
these father
memories
torquing
the
door which once
embraced you now
never lets you
go
x brooms
or releases
now you, love
are new memory
hands emptier
sensitive finger-
tips filligreed
prints your
body hairs
sifted imprinted
touching softly
x all the x's
here accounted
for, listed,
besos as kisses
scribbles, notes,
letters,
no matter
the black or
blue tide
of thee
O lover
what
slips out
ebbs black
back into lapis
lapses into what
self is
uttered/poured,
scored trans-
parent upon
surfaces
faces which are
even
eyes which now
glaze with love/
loss
beside the flue
glaze upon the
pane
the black
mouse remains
stays,
is many,
a multitude
of petals
x 3
the jasmine
unspurned
at last
at last/least
O return
soft Junes
the lips of
which are
sometimes
pink, of
lavender
swollen, as if
to kiss
x memory
x Maxwell the
house the cup
O Mr. Miller
an O'Day serenade
plays close
...'Hi ho trailus
boot whip
boo boo daddy
floy floy'...
the late night
suppers of chops
the peeled onions
the laughter the
potatoes boil
& bubble in the
pot then
father
to dance
the butter in
the sizzle in
the cast iron
pan
their vespers
now descant,
descend
...'How high
the ocean, how
high the moon...
hungry
the
dish it has
all become
feast for
black 'mouth'
& mouse makes again
x 3 the antinomies
a string
of pearls
anemones
& thee O lover
bring all them
back, so many,
to me now
x Pennsylvania 6-500.
poem by Warren Falcon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Scroll For New York City - A Son To His Sums of Eros & Father, Oh! & The River
memory
torques
into soft
teas
June
steeps
turns
steaming
said window
(and torsos)
said prints
views obscured
of nothing
in particular
or special,
but
troubles,
troubles only
of passing birds
enamored-of
(their lighter
bones)
or
are they
cloud and shadow,
merely the steep
sun declining ashen
into New Jersey?
occluded
silhouettes
contrails
glyphs &
Maxwell House sign
'Good To The Last Drop'
the familiar
cup for decades
tipped
tips &
one
(out-spilled)
drop
x 0 suspends
o suspends trembling
reflected in the water
river made of the many
countless drops
x (again) infinity
x (surprised) my
father there
(memento mori)
opening the
can all blue with
the same cup tilted
spilling that dark
brown dropp imprinted
x (the
dove, to recall,
brown, shaped like
said drop, now
flown, or) finally
spilled into water,
river currents
downward, to bottom
pulled sort/sift
my father always
complaining of grift,
a weather man by trade,
a cloud man once a pilot
WW2 drifting often since
enough into sky,
he turns
the silver opener
butterflied
round and round
with effort his
arthritic com-
plaints upon the
ridged silver top
of the can blue
with coffee
'course grind'
the better to drip
with within that
satisfying hiss
compacted air
hissing out
from compression
now released
the smell
then of coffee
fresh not yet
brewed in the
kitchen
the twist of
the edge jagged
silver metal
carefully turned
with fingers to
break the remain-
ing stem of metal
holding the round
to the can entire
unsealed now try
without spilling
the grounds
out
x at least 100 thousand
to guess having no
acumen with numbers
and math but father's
over
there in the cup tilted
over
spilling into
o endlessly
it's seams, it seems
from river bank
into memory which
is, already
over-said
overheard redundantly
as river
and time,
this one
now recalled
to Mind, dad,
dad
the cloud drift
and the flows
the tides beside
the city
both sides
is as ancient
as it always was
& is
as in the beginning
was darkness over deep
water & a word, any word
really would do it,
form something
out of deep, of
dark, of water
which shapes it-
self only by outer
circumstance,
in this case
a word
leading up to
this -
Palisades cliffs
above bridge tilt
toward, always,
currents,
the river
over-
flows north-
wards
tides rare defy-
ing the moon
that other pull,
you
live the other
side of
sand
the palm sewn
swaying adhered
to Mind
x 1
still, to pass the
time now
x 1
the sooty hand
x 1
over black
'mouth'
or word
allude perhaps
to river's at
city's start
up from water
the silver bay
capped, remembering
frigates
x countless
ferries torn
and Tories be-
tween seas
wars
vast to
the east
x duplicating
waves, stretches
the narrows,
the necks with
rocks strewn,
the lonely buoyless
waves over depths
their vespers
intone
once was laughter
spent
seeking out
between bodies
continents
valleys eternally
shifting eluding
rapture
x 1
whisper
contraction
of sentinel
bells against
each of each
reaching
x 2, the clappers
x 20,000
(of bells
anatomy there
is much to
say
(of the
elements,
zinc, copper,
tin, & more
while not for-
getting brass
more commonly
used)
of infusion
into cuppolas
the beating
the shaping
heat also to
be given account
amounts much into
bells conformed
gracefully out
in the end,
but only
as metal,
sharp tongues
blunted can of
bells then speak
tonally only
overtones inviolate
in violent swings
side to side the
hard knock shocks
into, quake into
belfry beyond
dance of iron
bronze overtaking
&
annunciant round
of hammers)
so many dawns
x so many goings
down of the sun
x fortune the lips
x myriad ones gone
before of murmurers
O lover
of thee
I adore
in timbre
thru the
window rings
the arms too
wring out
breath to
breath
x no more
embraces
into indolence
This, just to
reintroduce some
levity
for we (loves)
were many day-ed
x merry
we merrily played
harming no one,
not even the
mouse unmoved
perhaps, watching
perhaps, still,
still, from beneath
the god you insisted
be excluded from
all our nakedness
x 1 too many breaths
exchanged, groped
x many ropes all our
wanting
father loves
with his cup
his pipe songs
of love
of love will
he dance between
the violent fasts
from love,
our mother, with,
fast around around
& around the danced
living room
phonograph brass
loud plays
where June
curtains sway
me and Mr. Miller
(Glenn)
I stand behind
them the curtained
dancer entranced
entered into/
upon a mystery
how one could
be so, well,
swell, so
marvelous &
so cruel, (upon
one silver stem
hangs the metal
tin top jags
tears at
memory edge
opens facts
FACT
that there was love,
there was love after
all
I can see
it smell it
feel it there
dancing round
the living
one dropp Mr.
Maxwell holds,
hold on to &
upon goodness
brown pulled
from below down
& dark into deep
such this is
the riddle it is
all now become
since you
departed, love
since you
departed I shall
count backward by
3's then by 4's
these father
memories
torquing
the
door which once
embraced you now
never lets you
go
x brooms
or releases
now you, love
are new memory
hands emptier
sensitive finger-
tips filligreed
prints your
body hairs
sifted imprinted
touching softly
x all the x's
here accounted
for, listed,
besos as kisses
scribbles, notes,
letters,
no matter
the black or
blue tide
of thee
O lover
what
slips out
ebbs black
back into lapis
lapses into what
self is
uttered/poured,
scored trans-
parent upon
surfaces
faces which are
even
eyes which now
glaze with love/
loss
beside the flue
glaze upon the
pane
the black
mouse remains
stays,
is many,
a multitude
of petals
x 3
the jasmine
unspurned
at last
at last/least
O return
soft Junes
the lips of
which are
sometimes
pink, of
lavender
swollen, as if
to kiss
x memory
x Maxwell the
house the cup
O Mr. Miller
an O'Day serenade
plays close
...'Hi ho trailus
boot whip
boo boo daddy
floy floy'...
the late night
suppers of chops
the peeled onions
the laughter the
potatoes boil
& bubble in the
pot then
father
to dance
the butter in
the sizzle in
the cast iron
pan
their vespers
now descant,
descend
...'How high
the moon...
hungry
the
dish it has
all become
feast for
black 'mouth'
& mouse makes again
x 3 the antinomies
a string
of pearls
anemones
& thee O lover
bring all them
back, so many,
to me now
x Pennsylvania 6-500.
poem by Warren Falcon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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So Connected To You
There are times when I'm happy
and times when I'm sad
and all of these times that I have had
are all connected to you,
so connected to you.
so connected to you.
There are times when it's sunny
and times when it's not
and all of these times I never forgot
were all connected to you,
so connected to you.
'Cause you have my heart on a string
and I can't control one little thing.
Where's my composure? Where did it go?
'Can't even answer for I don't know.
There are times when I'm jumpy
and times when I'm still
and times when I'm playful
like Jack and Jill.
And they're all connected to you,
so connected to you.
So what do I do to get over you?
You've got me crazy in love with you.
I take a step forward and fall back two
and everywhere that I go
there'll be times when I want you
and times when I don't.
There'll be times that I'll have you
and times that I won't
but there's absolutely nothing I can do
'Cause I'm connected to you,
so connected to you
So I know we can never be through.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Don't Think So
I Don't Think So
We've been through this time together
AlI in my mind the love was so alive
Oh I never wanted for another
Then I saw the beginnings of a Iie
Good times and the bad times
Through the good times and the bad times with me
Good times and the bad times
Yeah I wonder why I never see
Good times and the bad times
Oh maybe there was always something wrong
Good times and the bad times
Did l wait too long
Chorus:
You said you'd love me for all of your life
I don't think so
Through the best of the best and the worst of the times
I don't think so
You said the world was a beautiful place
l don't think so
You swore the love was perfectly sale
I don't think so
People can only stay together
If in their hearts they know they can say what's on their minds
Would you say
Good times and the bad times
If it can't really be then I gotta move on
Good times and the bad times
Is it really time
Chorus: (repeat)
Said the check's in the mail and the maiI's on time
I don't think so
Said out of touch ain't out of mind
I don't think so
Couldn't live without me, and that's a fact
I don't think so
Love is real and it's not an act
I don't think so
Come on
Good times and the bad times
I don't think so
Good times and the bad times
Baby our love was a beautiful thing
I don't think so
Good times and the bad times
You said you'd love me for all of your life
I don't think so
Good times and the bad times
Through the best of the best and the worst of times
I don't think so
l don't think so baby oh baby oh baby come on
I don't think so
The love was right but the loving was wrong
song performed by by Hall & Oates
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There Are Times
There are times
when life goes topsy-turvy.
There are times
when we are full of dismay.
There are times
when pebbles dropped in water
can be felt across the bay.
There are times
when life gets a little crazy
and we know not which way to turn.
There are times
when everything is rosy
and in everyone’s life, there is sunshine.
There are times
when you feel lazy
and want the world to roll on by.
There are times
your world is filled with laughter.
There are times
when you want to
just sit down and cry.
There is a time for everything
and it will happen when it wants to.
We can only live from day to day
and take these times when they happen.
11 August 2008
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet: God Ne’er Forsakes Me
How many times have I ignored warnings?
How many times have I tried not to heed?
How many times have I sinned by mornings?
And yet, Thou didst forgive my acts indeed.
How many times have I walked in sin’s paths?
How many times have I reveled in sin?
How many times have I taken sin-baths?
And yet, Thou didst help me o’er Tempter win.
How many times have I failed my duties?
How many times have I Thee disobeyed?
How many times have I lost my mind’s peace?
And yet, Thou didst come promptly to my aid.
How many times have I forgotten Thee?
And yet, Thou didst not once ev’r forsake me.
7-23-2001
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Love
Oh how I wish I could save the times
that I have spent with you.
For if you leave I could take them out
and have them to review.
But since it is not the way things work
I must remember in my mind
All the times I could not save
and never leave any behind,
The times when we laughed, the times when we cried
and the times we just were still,
The times we embraced, the times we faced
when both of us were ill.
Not enough time is the time we have
and so it will run out.
So we must make them count and never forget
what we were all about.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Where Have All The Good Times Gone!
All my life Ive never stopped to worry 'bout a thing,
Open up and shout it out,an never try to sing,
Wondering if Ive done it wrong,
Will this depression last for long,wont you tell me,
Where have all the good times gone.
Where have all the good times gone.
Where have all the good times gone.
Once we had an easy ride and always felt the same,
Time was on our side and we had everything to gain,
This could be like yesterday,
Is thst me with your happydays,
Where have all the good times gone.
Where have all the good times gone.
Where have all the good times gone.
Ma and pa look back on all the things they used to do,
Never had no money and they always told the truth,
Daddy didnt need no little toys,
Mommy didnt need no little boys,wont you tell me,
Where have all the good times gone.
Where have all the good times gone.
Where have all the good times gone.
Ow!
Yesterday was such an easy game for you to play,
Ah but then lets face it,things are easier today,
Yes you need some bringing down,
Get your feet back on the ground,
Where have all the good times gone.
Where have all the good times gone.
Where have all the good times gone.
Where have all the good times gone.
Where have all the good times gone.
song performed by by Van Halen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Remember The Time
Do you remember
When we fell in love
We were young
And innocent then
Do you remember
How it all began
It just seemed like heaven
So why did it end?
Do you remember
Back in the fall
Wed be together
All day long
Do you remember
Us holding hands
In each others eyes
Wed stare
(tell me)
Do you remember the time
When we fell in love
Do you remember the time
When we first met
Do you remember the time
When we fell in love
Do you remember the time
Do you remember
How we used to talk
(ya know)
Wed stay on the phone
At night till dawn
Do you remember
All the things we said like
I love you so
Ill never let you go
Do you remember
Back in the spring
Every morning birds would sing
Do you remember
Those special times
Theyll just go on and on
In the back of my mind
Do you remember the time
When we fell in love
Do you remember the time
When we first met girl
Do you remember the time
When we fell in love
Do you remember the time
Those sweet memories
Will always be dear to me
And girl no matter what was said
I will never forget what we had
Now baby
Do you remember the time
When we fell in love
Do you remember the time
When we first met
Do you remember the time
When we fell in love
Do you remember the time
Do you remember the time
When we fell in love
Do you remember the time
When we first met
Do you remember the time
When we fell in love
Do you remember the time
Remember the times
Ooh
Remember the times
Do you remember girl
Remember the times
On the phone you and me
Remember the times
Till dawn, two or three
What about us girl
Remember the times
Do you. do you, do you,
Do you, do you
Remember the times
In the park, on the beach
Remember the times
You and me in spain
Remember the times
What about, what about...
Remember the times
Ooh... in the park
Remember the times
After dark..., do you, do you, do you
Remember the times
Do you, do you, do you, do you
Remember the times
Yeah yeah
Remember the times
song performed by by Michael Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hard Times
Have you ever felt
That your life is a wasting
Happiness beyond your reach
Sweet love has gone astray
Suddenly its bitter
Hard times
Hard times
When youre all alone
Nothing seems to matter
Sadness always fills the air
Hurts so deep inside
You just have to cry out
Wow.....hard times
Wow.....hard times
Wow.....hard times
Wow.....hard times
Give yourself a chance
You have something special
That nobody else can claim
Deep inside your heart
Shines a revelation
Wow.....shine on
Wow.....shine on
Wow.....hard times
Wow.....hard times
song performed by by Santana
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Good Times Are Killing Me
MODEST MOUSE - The Good Times Are Killing Me
Album: Good News For People Who Love Bad News (2004)
The good times are killing me.
Here we go!
Got dirt, got air, got water and I know you can carry on.
Shrug off shortsighted false excitement and oh what can I say?
Have one, have twenty more "one mores" and oh it does not relent.
The good times are killing me.
Kick butt buzz-cut dickheads
who didn't like what I said.
The good times are killing me.
Jaws clenched tight we talked all night,
oh but what the hell did we say?
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
Fed up with all that LSD.
Need more sleep than coke or methamphetamines.
Late nights with warm, warm whiskey.
I guess the good times they were all just killing me.
Got dirt, got air, got water and I know you can carry on.
The good times are killing me.
Enough hair of the dog to make myself an entire rug.
The good times are killing me.
Have one, have twenty more "one mores" and oh it does not relent.
The good times are killing me.
Shit-kicker city slickers who all wanted me dead.
The good times are killing me.
Get sucked in and stuck in late nights
with more folks that I don't know.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
song performed by by Modest Mouse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hard Times Are Over
Its been very hard
But its getting easier now.
Hard times are over, over for a while.
The leaves are shining in the sun,
And Im smiling inside.
You and I watching each other on a street corner,
Cars and buses and planes and people go by.
But we dont care, we wanna know,
Wanna know in each others eyes
That hard times are over, over for some time. (yeh!)
Hard times are over,
Hard times are over,
Hard times are over, over for awhile.
Its been very rough,
But its getting easier now.
Hard times are over, over for awhile.
The streams are twinkling in the sun
And Im smiling inside.
You and I walking together round the street corner.
Hard times are over,
Hard times are over,
Hard times are over, over for awhile.
Hard times are over,
Hard times are over,
Hard times are over, over for awhile.
Hard times are over,
Hard times are over,
Hard times are over, over for awhile.
Hard times are over,
Hard times are over.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hard Times Are Over
Its been very hard
But its getting easier now.
Hard times are over, over for a while.
The leaves are shining in the sun,
And Im smiling inside.
You and I watching each other on a street corner,
Cars and buses and planes and people go by.
But we dont care, we wanna know,
Wanna know in each others eyes
That hard times are over, over for some time. (yeh!)
Hard times are over,
Hard times are over,
Hard times are over, over for awhile.
Its been very rough,
But its getting easier now.
Hard times are over, over for awhile.
The streams are twinkling in the sun
And Im smiling inside.
You and I walking together round the street corner.
Hard times are over,
Hard times are over,
Hard times are over, over for awhile.
Hard times are over,
Hard times are over,
Hard times are over, over for awhile.
Hard times are over,
Hard times are over,
Hard times are over, over for awhile.
Hard times are over,
Hard times are over.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sometimes and Most of the Times
Sometimes I disagree,
but most most of the times, I confess that I am
Sometimes I assume,
But most most of the times, I confident the things are
Sometimes I ignore,
but most most of the times, I notice the way one thinks
Sometimes I conceal,
but most most of the times, I reaveal as I am
Sometimes I act,
but most most of the times, I show what is the real in Me
Sometimes I lie,
but most most of the times, I stand as Honest
Sometimes I hate,
but most most of the times I like the way one likes Me
poem by Abhijeet Deokar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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How Many Times
*how many tears have you cried
How many eyes have you dried
How many ways have you tried
And dont you get tired of people sayin
How many times, how many times
How many dream have been bad
How many nights have been sad
How many days have you had
When you get tired of people sayin
How many times, how many times
How many times, how many times
(*repeat)
I said tired of people sayin
Dont you get tired of people sayin
How many times, how many times
How many times, how many times
How many times, times, times, times
Times, times, times, times, times
song performed by by Peter Cetera
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On Betrayal
we often feel as if we've been betrayed...
and we're hurt, angry, scarred, and vindictive...
but the truth is we lead lives of betrayal.
times we fail others, times we fail ourselves.
times when we mean to do the right thing,
and dont follow through.
times we excuse ourselves by
saying we're following our heart.
times we turn away,
and blame it on circumstance.
times we dont dare to do what life demands.
times we choose indifference,
times we think we've already given enough.
times we choose the easy way out.
times we are not grateful...
times we dont forgive but expect forgiveness.
times we dont speak what our heart feels,
until it's too late....
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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