David McLansky Poems

The liquid spells of the earth
Are chanted in the dark with mirth
Naked the jagged stone
In the moonlight on the loam
...

The Soul seeks first autonomy,
And then it seeks fair symmetry,
And then selects economy;
So why has loved abandoned me.
...

I sit upon Kay’s empty bench
And recite Villon in ancient French;
“But where are the snows of yesteryear? ”
Absorbed in the ground with my wet tears.
...

Make not a monument of grief
Mourning at its best is brief
Build no statues in the sky
It’s not the living who have died;
...

The moon will summon as a bell.
There’s magic in the chanted spells,
Her groom awaits to claim his bride
To take his rights beside her side.
...

The liquid spells of the earth
Are chanted in the dark with mirth
Naked the jagged stone
In the moonlight on the loam
...

Let’s have no more talk of death
No more, no morel
I hear its’ rattle in my breath;
My limbs fail me with every step
...

Mortals all,
Blind we fade,
The prophecy
Not clear in the cup,
...

The very air that passes through your lips
Those ruby portals wherein my pleasures found
Is pure ambrosia, on which my soul doth sip,
In heated reverie exchanging passions round;
...

You wear me down with disappointment
Oh life, where is your soothing ointment
To compensate me for my grief
Why do you fail to bring relief?
...