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Letter To N.Y.

For Louise Crane


In your next letter I wish you'd say
where you are going and what you are doing;
how are the plays and after the plays
what other pleasures you're pursuing:

taking cabs in the middle of the night,
driving as if to save your soul
where the road gose round and round the park
and the meter glares like a moral owl,

and the trees look so queer and green
standing alone in big black caves
and suddenly you're in a different place
where everything seems to happen in waves,

and most of the jokes you just can't catch,
like dirty words rubbed off a slate,

[...] Read more

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Song from My Heart

Song in my heart,
Speak to me,
Sing me your sweet melody.

The days been hard,
Evenings long,
Sing me tonight a joyous song.

So many times
When all hope was gone,
I listened to your cry, a painful mourn-

But now all is serene,
The night is still-
Hum to me softly, if you will.

Oh song from my heart,
Music within me,
Sing me a song filled with melody.

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Behind The Final Curtain

it is then only this....
the bark peeled from the ancient tree.
the yowl of the cat in hunger,
the slap of wings against gone.
tis the height of passion;
i have turned my deepest colors,
yet my dreams have begun to fall...
i cant stop them.
and the sound of voices like hammers on tin,
be the bottle broken before it hits.
when memory becomes history,
and tired clouds wink and disappear.
the setting sun tastes of vinegar,
as smoke rises in wistful plumes.
and beliefs crawl in empty nests,
while squirrels madly drink and die.
as holiness runs like rain,
down the trunk and into the ground.
the sacred dance of the senses,
while lovers touch in secret closets.

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Marianne Moore

The Steeple-Jack

Dürer would have seen a reason for living
in a town like this, with eight stranded whales
to look at; with the sweet sea air coming into your house
on a fine day, from water etched
with waves as formal as the scales
on a fish.

One by one in two's and three's, the seagulls keep
flying back and forth over the town clock,
or sailing around the lighthouse without moving their wings --
rising steadily with a slight
quiver of the body -- or flock
mewing where

a sea the purple of the peacock's neck is
paled to greenish azure as Dürer changed
the pine green of the Tyrol to peacock blue and guinea
gray. You can see a twenty-five-
pound lobster; and fish nets arranged
to dry. The

[...] Read more

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Ability Purchased Time

brief creative windows
of artistic opportunity
brief life possibilities

for an artist to create
so much depends
on ability purchased time

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Hang me a door with gables bright!

Hang me a door with gables bright!
So joy can find its way by night…
Through bootless tracks where great fords lie,
In the distance of an externals eye.

Here a swathe of farm lights—burn
Without oil, gas or peat-bog turf
Here a lantern hangs omnipotent and gold.
Bringing a shepherds flock back unto His fold
Where one man’s labouring, equals one lord’s serf
Where a prophet preached; till his own nocturne!

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My Greatest Fear

My greatest fear is not absence of triumph
neither success nor victory are as essential

My greatest fear lies in losing you
Knowing that we won't be together
Thought our friendship last forever
Relationship closer than whatsoever

My greatest fear lies in the loneliness
In living life free of happiness
Mysterious wind full of emptiness
My hands crawl and lips sore with dryness

My greatest fear lies in the mystery
Our friendship now becomes history
Me falling apart like spring fruits from an apple tree
And finally an attack deep within the artery

Now that is what am afraid of
That is my greatest fear

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Starbright

Starligt starbright O I've wished on you many nights
Starlight starbright you always make it right
I can't remember life before you, my star
Tomorrow I won't remember the desperation
I always lose the fight starlight
The first star I see tonight
I need you one more night
Starlight starlight starbright
I need that wish tonight
In the day I'm not so tempted, my star
I even think I'm strong, but darkness falls upon me
All resistance is gone
Starlight starbright O starlight
Can I just use you one more night
You make everything feel right starlight
I wish I may, I wish I might
I wish I didn't need you
Starlight my star.

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Amy Lowell

Nightmare: A Tale for an Autumn Evening

After a Print by George Cruikshank

It was a gusty night,
With the wind booming, and swooping,
Looping round corners,
Sliding over the cobble-stones,
Whipping and veering,
And careering over the roofs
Like a thousand clattering horses.
Mr. Spruggins had been dining in the city,
Mr. Spruggins was none too steady in his gait,
And the wind played ball with Mr. Spruggins
And laughed as it whistled past him.
It rolled him along the street,
With his little feet pit-a-patting on the flags of the sidewalk,
And his muffler and his coat-tails blown straight out behind him.
It bumped him against area railings,
And chuckled in his ear when he said 'Ouch!'
Sometimes it lifted him clear off his little patting feet
And bore him in triumph over three grey flagstones and a quarter.

[...] Read more

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It's Not The Fabric

It's not the fabric.
It is the tampering with the pattern,
To sell it as quality...
That has begun to show an unravelling,
At the seams of a once highly regarded product.
We need those who are competent.
We've already sought the impressive cheap way of doing things.
And look what that has done to our appearance.

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