I
1 Our brains ache, in the merciless iced east winds that knife us ...
2 Wearied we keep awake because the night is silent ...
3 Low drooping flares confuse our memory of the salient ...
4 Worried by silence, sentries whisper, curious, nervous,
5 But nothing happens.
6 Watching, we hear the mad gusts tugging on the wire.
7 Like twitching agonies of men among its brambles.
......
Dr. Foster lived in old fashioned London, and was content to stay there;
As red roses are content being caressed, by the wind from everywhere.
Dr. Foster loved his daily routine, like the violet repeat of honeyed days;
And he stuck to their rhythm faithfully, like a valentine heart, ever stays.
Besides, his work kept him quite busy, easing pain, and bringing smiles;
Like vermilion mountains at moonrise, or a colorful rainbow's hazy tiles.
Since failure isn't a familiar word in nature, like rebirth of spring flowers,
......
Let America be America again.
Let it be the dream it used to be.
Let it be the pioneer on the plain
Seeking a home where he himself is free.
(America never was America to me.)
Let America be the dream the dreamers dreamed--
Let it be that great strong land of love
Where never kings connive nor tyrants scheme
......
And when, in the city in which I love you,
even my most excellent song goes unanswered,
andI mount the scabbed streets,
the long shouts of avenues,
and tunnel sunken night in search of you...
That I negotiate fog, bituminous
rain rining like teeth into the beggar's tin,
or two men jackaling a third in some alley
weirdly lit by a couch on fire, that I
......
I praise you because
you are artist and scientist
in one. When I am somewhat
fearful of your power,
your ability to work miracles
with a set-square, I hear
you murmuring to yourself
in a notation Beethoven
dreamed of but never achieved.
You run off your scales of
......
Dr. Foster lived in old fashioned London, and was content to stay there;
As red roses are content being caressed, by the wind from everywhere.
Dr. Foster loved his daily routine, like the violet repeat of honeyed days;
And he stuck to their rhythm faithfully, like a valentine heart, ever stays.
Besides, his work kept him quite busy, easing pain, and bringing smiles;
Like vermilion mountains at moonrise, or a colorful rainbow's hazy tiles.
Since failure isn't a familiar word in nature, like rebirth of spring flowers,
......
We had
So many days
With out the sun
That rain
On and off
It was horrible
Because the sky was
Always grey
I didn't go out
During the rainy days
......
Johnny MacAlister was six-years-old, young enough still for wishes,
Baby sister, Rosie, was all of three, all giggling and adorable kisses.
With fond, indulgent parents, the family was content in their home,
In a town, sleepy in sunlit day, where a scarlet cock used his comb.
Johnny played with Rosie every day. He loved to get her laughing;
As if a gaudy parade of jesters and clowns, chanced to be passing!
Forget-me-not days brought fast friends, in fruitful times of flowers,
......
Within this rattling of the metals above
And the heavenly grumbles, the grey void
The waterholes, frayed, loosened, dispatched . . .
Now, silences lose their grips.
It rains and there’s deep slumber
Tents’ pegs are mocked by watermud, recasting
Shadows of the primitive nights on days’ weakened rays
Silences, except for the rhythm known when it rains.
......
Raindrops whisper, pitter-patter,
Lullaby on rooftop tiles.
Gray clouds gather, shadows scatter,
World outside in soft exile.
Cozy nook, a steaming mug,
......