from Memories of President Lincoln
1
When lilacs last in the dooryard bloom'd,
And the great star early droop'd in the western sky in the night,
I mourn'd, and yet shall mourn with ever-returning spring.
Ever-returning spring, trinity sure to me you bring,
Lilac blooming perennial and drooping star in the west,
......
A bird came down the walk:
He did not know I saw;
He bit an angle-worm in halves
And ate the fellow, raw.
And then he drank a dew
From a convenient grass,
And then hopped sidewise to the wall
To let a beetle pass.
......
AFTER the Sea-Ship--after the whistling winds;
After the white-gray sails, taut to their spars and ropes,
Below, a myriad, myriad waves, hastening, lifting up their necks,
Tending in ceaseless flow toward the track of the ship:
Waves of the ocean, bubbling and gurgling, blithely prying,
Waves, undulating waves--liquid, uneven, emulous waves,
Toward that whirling current, laughing and buoyant, with curves,
Where the great Vessel, sailing and tacking, displaced the surface;
Larger and smaller waves, in the spread of the ocean, yearnfully
flowing;
......
One spoke: "Come, let us gaily go
With laughter, love and lust,
Since in a century or so
We'll all be boneyard dust.
When unborn shadows hold the screen,
(Our betters, I'll allow)
'Twill be as if we'd never been,
A hundred years from now.
When we have played life's lively game
......
This was the way of it, don't you know --
Ryan was "wanted" for stealing sheep,
And never a trooper, high or low,
Could find him -- catch a weasel asleep!
Till Trooper Scott, from the Stockman's Ford --
A bushman, too, as I've heard them tell --
Chanced to find him drunk as a lord
Round at the Shadow of Death Hotel.
D'you know the place? It's a wayside inn,
A low grog-shanty -- a bushman trap,
......
RETURN MY TEARS
The darkened sky stole my tears
soprano crystalline they quickly disappeared
Lucy my name still neat to tweet, though
inner ocean could no longer drip sighs sweet
desert dry goals, set anew, a different stew
He no longer beheld teary dampened hues
charcoal cloud-lips licked tear salt refined
......
As I stand, a poet in an ocean of words,
Unspoken feelings, unheard verses surge.
What is this craft, this calling to write?
Is it light for others or my own plight?
I pen the tales of others, the struggles they bear,
Yet each word I write is a weight I wear.
To live, to serve, to break free from norm,
A poet’s life—a perpetual storm.
......
In the dark night sky, I sail on the ocean of stars, looking for a ray of light, in a nebula of hope far away.
Cosmic dust dances slowly, whispering promises of the future, amidst the eerie darkness, I found a glimmer of light.
Oh, nebula, the vortex of dreams that never goes out, you draw a path in the dark, towards a day full of courage. Every colour you emit, is a prayer that floats into the sky, touching the throne of the Creator, carve your destiny with love and hope.
So let me fly, penetrate the endless sky, with the hope of being a guide, into a new universe.
Slipi. 05 December 2024. 9:19 PM
Her essence in the breeze,
teasing, tantalizing, tasty.
Piquant pleasures fill his head
powerful, dangerous… unconstrained.
A boy watching, wishing from shore.
joined in imagination and dreams.
Slow shrinking ships at the horizon,
the alter of liquid pleasure.
......
Let me wash myself in the current of your gentle waters,
Where the caress of your wave’s cleanses not just my skin,
But the very essence of who I am, leaving me reborn.
Let me drink deeply from the fountain of your love,
Each drop a sweet elixir that quenches a thirst of my soul,
Pour me till it fills the emptiness within me,
Leaving me to drown in the endless ocean of your love.
Let me gaze in the garden you’ve nourished with your grace,
Wandering through fields where flowers bloom in your name,
......