Someone inside says, "Get busy."
But I've got appointments to keep,
I have an abstemious love of equations calculated quickly
While the tepid day melts into design.
And the high cheekbones of the beautiful life
Bear the loose look of a calendar by lamplight.
I search for patterns in everything.
I am tied in knots of comprehension.
I think, how useful it might be
To pierce all the hands of the earth
With an oath of pins encircling snarling planets
But talent and shallowness sewn together
Is nothing but a kerchief tied around a survivalist's head,
And it helps to know the feet wriggling through a hole
In the universe will land for an instant
Upon the cushions of the dark,
And that after marching one doozy of a kilometer after another,
We each come upon the same poem scribbled in invisible ink
Taped to the door of a room
In which an austere justice is burning for us.
...
I am not yet born; O hear me.
Let not the bloodsucking bat or the rat or the stoat or the
club-footed ghoul come near me.
I am not yet born, console me.
I fear that the human race may with tall walls wall me,
with strong drugs dope me, with wise lies lure me,
on black racks rack me, in blood-baths roll me.
I am not yet born; provide me
...
A tiny seed, so small and round,
Grows roots deep beneath the ground.
Up it reaches, tall and bright,
Drinking sun and catching light.
Its branches dance, the birds all sing,
A home for every living thing.
A shady spot, a place to rest,
A gift of nature at its best.
...
A crow beats on the updraft over a scragged hawthorn,
rocked but plunging on. A stick of Paras, bristling with nerves,
coughs and boots forward along the sheugh.
Long after the soldiers have gone, the crows will settle home.
Since Newry, choppers have been battling back and forth
across the track. These trains are overheated, sweat
stings in my underslept eyes; I'd rather the crows' lift and pluck
than to be here, rocked to the quick, driving on Derry.
I often wish, my love, that we were birds, the wide domains
of Ireland at our turn and fall, the world's wind
our natural element - rain, ice, hail or sun our gods,
the tall pines our greenwhip lightning rods.
Tonight there's a horned moon and Venus trailing
low over the Waterside. Tonight let me fold you in my wings,
pray nobody's killed in dark of country or town. We'll settle
the long night in another of our beds, watch what the morning brings.
...
She plucked a blossom fair to see;
Upon my coat I let her pin it;
And thus we stood beneath the tree
A minute.
She turned her smiling face to me;
I saw a roguish sweetness in it;
I kissed her once;—it took, maybe,
A minute.
...
ELANA
I found you—
alone and afraid
in a distant, cold world
so different from mine.
Your heart became my obsession,
even before I truly knew you.
Still, somehow,
...
Democracy will not come
Today, this year
Nor ever
Through compromise and fear.
I have as much right
As the other fellow has
To stand
On my two feet
And own the land.
I tire so of hearing people say,
Let things take their course.
Tomorrow is another day.
I do not need my freedom when I'm dead.
I cannot live on tomorrow's bread.
Freedom
Is a strong seed
Planted
In a great need.
I live here, too.
I want freedom
Just as you.
...
Maud went to college.
Sadie stayed home.
Sadie scraped life
With a fine toothed comb.
She didn't leave a tangle in
Her comb found every strand.
Sadie was one of the livingest chicks
In all the land.
...
Wow, the salty ocean,
Water crashing in rage,
Longing something to wage,
Sand resting as treasure,
With ecstatic pleasure!
The lovely horizon,
Upgrading for a mission.
Along with the ocean,
Looking all WHOLESOME,
...
If you die before me
I would jump down into your grave
and hug you so innocently
that angels will become jealous.
...
Indoors by technology, outdoors by speedy transport
I travel the world
Today in Japan, tomorrow in Rome,
Next day by an ancient civilization or in Hawaii or Coast Ivory,
...
The low lands call
I am tempted to answer
They are offering me a free dwelling
Without having to conquer
...
The Peace Warrior Of Mzansi, among heroes - a colossus!
Sun Of The Nation; a rare gift of Providence.
Once, entangled in the web of racist succubus;
Unruffled he declares before High Justice:
...
(This is a composition in Pilipino Language the first one I did, the only one, and hope some of the Filipinos will get this funny poem in this site. The poem is updated with English translation)
Noong taong otsenta dekada
...
Rappelle-toi Barbara
Il pleuvait sans cesse sur Brest ce jour-là
Et tu marchais souriante
Épanouie ravie ruisselante
...
you put this pen
in my hand and you
take the pen from you put this pen
...
On this dry prepared path walk heavy feet.
This is not "dinner music." This is a power structure.
...
"Come, pretty birds, present your lays,
And learn to chaunt a goddess praise;
Ye wood-nymphs, let your voices be
Employ'd to serve her deity:
...
If you had the choice of two women to wed,
(Though of course the idea is quite absurd)
And the first from her heels to her dainty head
Was charming in every sense of the word:
...
A little while, a little while,
The weary task is put away,
And I can sing and I can smile,
Alike, while I have holiday.
...