Custom Search

Tuesday, September 30, 2008

WITHOUT YOU, Geroge St. Heartbreak

http://stanley.pacion.googlepages.com/homepage

http://stanley.pacion.googlepages.com/sexandhistory

http://www.youtube.com/StanleyPacion

http://www.stanleypacion.com/

WITHOUT YOU,
George St. Heartbreak



I am sick with rheum and aches,
And a congestion of the lungs.
I cough constantly.

Insomnia stains my eye sockets, like charcoal,
And for the first time in my life
I actually look older than my real age.


Years ago, when still a child
I read auguries in the snarled pattern of clouds,
And practiced divination in how snow
Accumulated to subtle difference of height
On the post rails surrounding the corral.

I watched the frozen breathe of horses,
Looking for some hope of bliss but abstracted
Solely gloom and heart brake.

Today, desperate and preoccupied, I try
To pick out the future from the way
Antennae wire twists against the white walls,
And falls up and down
Along the molding in my bedroom.

All omens promise bad luck.

My mind has fallen into moat
And bad mood has dungeoned me.

I keep to the apartment all day,
Flipping over playing cards,
Looking for my destiny every time,
A queen of hearts appears from the deck.

It's going okay tonight, not too bad.

"Stanley, don’t be wearin’ that stickpin
Opals are always considered unlucky!"

My luck isn't very good as it is.
I don't think me wearing an opal
Changes the out come of life that much.

No eulogy for this affair of heart.
No photographs left here for me to remember us.

I see no people down the street to witness
Me drive off in the Ford alone.

Rain and cold, happy couples walk the avenues
Huddling close, tight, one to another.

Your name has been deleted from the speed dial.
It has vanished from my computer screen.

I guess these musings are the closest
It may ever come to a biography of us.

I must wonder if this whole fantastic romance,
I once imagined, amounts to no more, now,
Than footnote in this big book of my own.

No children will be named for us,
Not that you wanted it anyhow,
The children being named after either you or me.

No admission will ever be charged
For entrance to the home where we once lived,
Spoke ardently of love one for the other,
And I tempted verse to celebrate us for the ages.

And despite all the noise coming from the street,
All the appointments I have to keep this evening,
I can only lie on the floor and look to the ceiling.

The light is going out of my eyes.

Some people want every thing,
Lots of people want it all.
I just want you, your love, dear,
When life goes on without you,
I've got nothing at all!

Monday, September 29, 2008

HEART'S ON FIRE, Lunch at Panera

http://stanley.pacion.googlepages.com/homepage

http://stanley.pacion.googlepages.com/sexandhistory

http://www.youtube.com/StanleyPacion

http://www.stanleypacion.net/

HEART'S ON FIRE,
Lunch at Panera




The streets are joyous, full of fun.
I hear laughter wherever I go.

I could not ask for more.
I walk to the door of our home,
Then, before I enter,
I picture you and hear your warm, ‘Hello!’

With racing mind and energetic flesh –
I can not believe it, the delight!
I burn intensely! Heart’s on fire!
Something here inside can not be denied.

You want to stay, to be my friend.



When we sit down for sandwiches
And the simple glass of water,
Two washed apples for desert,
We say that future ages might note,
Our table talk was bound for grandeur,
Mere words attain immortality,
We live well beyond lunchtime hour.

Everything we do dissolves the difference,
We loose distinction between yours and mine.

I see out the window,
A bright light illuminates the scene.
I need no coin for the wishing well.
My goal is close at hand.

I have never witnessed
Such contentment on a woman’s face
.
The web radio forecasts sunny days.
Now I know the poet’s proclamation,
The meaning of new morning,
Grace so freely disposed that though
I, unworthy and lost, learned
Vocabulary of redemption, reborn,
The bounty of your great love saved me.

Despite your troubles and your travels,
We laugh together
No matter the physical distance between us.
A part of you always stays with me.

I take you in my arms and hold you,
As I hold you in this verse of mine.
Let me take you in my arms and tell you
How much I have missed you,
I miss you so much since we have been apart.


Friday, September 26, 2008

RESPOND TO THIS VIDEO, A Poem

http://stanley.pacion.googlepages.com/homepage

http://stanley.pacion.googlepages.com/sexandhistory

http://www.youtube.com/StanleyPacion

http://www.stanleypacion.com/

RESPOND TO THIS VIDEO,
A POEM




Respond to this video.
Tell me, dear audience,
Tell me what you think,
Or tell me what you believe.
I can’t be friends with her
She is no friend to me.

Tell me what to do.


It’s not she’s bad,
Or evil beyond belief;
She has broken every promise,
No regard for holy vow,
But the real truth behind her lies,
She has a hard time copin’,
Livin’ in the regular world,
Bein’ like all the other girls,
Who fit in the regular world.

Tell me, dear audience,
Tell me what to do!
My heart’s been rendered,
It has been broken in two.

‘Oh, you’re such a pretty girl,
Why are you so skinny?’
That’s what the ladies ask
When she just standin’ there,
That’s what the ladies ask
When she just standin’ there,
Standin’ there waitin’ for the bus.

Let me tell you what she said,
I tell you, dear audience,
What she once revealed to me,
She said she’s always starvin’
That is how she got that way,
I’ve seen her get thinner,
Thinner by the day,
She can not finish her dinner,
She doesn’t care what she weighs.

Let me whisper a secret,
Maybe it will clear the air,
The first piece of furniture,
The first thing I bought for this house
It was a white electronic scale,
She will not step on the scale.

Her period stopped long ago,
But no problem, take a pill,
Tweak the hormone and, anyway,
Just what’s so important,
Why the big deal?
Really, I can hear her say it,
Just as if she where talking here,
Now I’ve got it in goin’,
No problem with my monthly flow!

Respond to this video
Tell me, dear audience,
Tell me what you think,

Or tell me what you believe.
I can’t be friends with her
She can’t be friend to self.

It’s so awful, it’s weird,
I am sure she still loves me.

Will she ever be carefree again?

Can it be she’s really dyin’,
Dear God, I fear it’s true,
But she runs for miles,
Goes to the gym every other day,
My heart is broken,
All I can do is pray.

I can’t be friends with her,
She can’t be friend to self,
What else can I do?
What am I missin’,
Is there something I might do?
I never doubted her beauty!
Please, tell me, tell me,
-- I love her! –
Is there anything,
If there is anything I can do?

Thursday, September 25, 2008

CORPORAL, Version III

http://stanley.pacion.googlepages.com/homepage

http://stanley.pacion.googlepages.com/sexandhistory

http://www.youtube.com/StanleyPacion

http://www.stanleypacion.com/

CORPORAL, Version III





The corporal, he saw time,
He saw thirty seconds, he saw temporal instance,
He saw the spin, the vortex, the event plane,
Where all disappeared, but to him it was real,
Just like any other object in the book of life.

He was turning the corner into his living room,
He saw the couch become clear light,
Transparent, a configuration of lines,
Blue lines on white background, and at the bottom,
Right hand corner a lined, rectangular box spelled out
Blanks to be composed at latter time,
They read NAME, ADDRESS, PROJECT TITLE.


Corporal walked out of the dream,
He slipped into another familiar space,
He lay upon the bed on his back,
He bent forwards and touched he feet,
He grasped his toes. He was smarting;

He was hurting all over! He suffered!
It seemed every muscle, every joint ache.

My! What a plethora of subjects crossed his mind.

The corporal, he saw every crack and crevice of heaven.
He rolled up, brought knees to chest, and then a flash,
He caught such gigantic power,
That night he broke the bubble and went beyond,
He went way beyond the stars, he walked a field,
The wheat had grown up to his waist,
He ran full speed, and he could see himself,
He could see himself stark, dark figure in the distance,
While he ran, he ran, break neck, towards horizon,
Horizon of black-and-yellow, checker-board-colored sky,

It was at that moment he turned to ask her,

Their clothes were scattered throughout the parlor,
It was late night and a view of lower Manhattan lights,
The buildings, street lamps and bridges burned,
The illumination was awesome out the window,
Out the window view from
The twenty-fifth floor of the high rise,

He asked how it had been for her,
Corporal wondered because they had never left
The front room couch and the sadness of reentry,
Earth’s gravity began to exert its heavy hold.

And she, adopting chapter and verse from
The good Doctor Leary’s work, replied,

‘A thousand times better, it was!’
A thousand times better, corporal queried?
‘It was a thousand times better!’ She said.

MY SENTIMENTAL REVELRY

http://stanley.pacion.googlepages.com/homepage

http://stanley.pacion.googlepages.com/sexandhistory

http://www.youtube.com/StanleyPacion

http://www.stanleypacion.com/

MY SENTIMENTAL REVELRY



Do you trust me?
Do you have a single doubt,
I love you? Do I forsake you,
Or fail to keep my word?

I feel within me,
Light has dispelled darkness.

For a thousand different reasons,
And just one, I love you most of all,
I love you, because you’re you.

I sing like Elvis, but I am here,
God lets me live, I sing the song.
I love you the way you are, dear.
I have no rhyme or reason.
No matter what they say about me,
Most of all I love you,
I love you, because you’re you.

But now what else am I to do?
Will every other’s face
Be now and forever but second best?

I fall to terrible truth,
I am no good, no good to any one,
I’m no good to anyone after loving you.

On our first date,
It rained the entire day.
We drove Jersey’s back roads and highways.
We talked business.
We praised the special light,
And thanked God for blessing,
For the Grace, that befell us.

Though we are separated now,
You have my love. I adore you.

You might send a Private Eye
To track my days and nights,
You might send a troop,
Special Forces to search and seek
Any rugged terrain where I might hide,
Give them night vision goggles
So to visit every nook,
Every recess of my soul,
And all they will find, my love,
They will only find my love for you.

FOR THE RECORD

http://stanley.pacion.googlepages.com/homepage

http://stanley.pacion.googlepages.com/sexandhistory

http://www.youtube.com/StanleyPacion

http://www.stanleypacion.com/

FOR THE RECORD



She offered him a bottle of Fresca,
It had been already opened and part drunk.
She made an off-handed remark
Claiming to have no communicable disease.


How was she to know that he required
No reassurance, that in fact he was eager to seek
A place where his lips might alight upon hers?

He drank down the rest of the soda in a couple gulps.

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

CRAZY LOVE, INTERLUDE

http://stanley.pacion.googlepages.com/homepage

http://stanley.pacion.googlepages.com/sexandhistory

http://www.youtube.com/StanleyPacion

http://www.stanleypacion.com/

CRAZY LOVE, INTERLUDE




I am at a loss, dumbfounded,

Neither you nor I have forgotten the depth,
The big range of affection ready at our command,
We always felt exceptionally well-suited,
We were great couple in so many ways…

Look back at the poetry,
I listed the qualities binding us
So many times before, I won’t do it again!


I am sick of it, this terrible romance,
I can not go on,
I feel it’s charade,
Too much, the caprice,
You toss me to the ground,
The ungrateful child’s unwanted toy,
However you may have wanted me,
I exist no more, and am broken.

For both of us there’s plenty desire,
You sneak up on me and stoke
The flame which still fires your heart,
Neighbors tell me they see you,
Saying how you haunt me,
How you seem unable to let me go,
Signs the real extent,
How much you must still love me.

And I write this love poem,
Though what was once this thing of ours,
This breathe and we wondrous, beauteous mates,
Finished, driven apart, and my verse,
Pathetic exercise, sorry chapter
In story gone nowhere,
It bears title, everything about us so crazy.

Had I not become accustomed to your way,
Spent no time next to you in bed,
Were I smart enough a man,
Avoiding you in the first place,
Never saying a word to you,
Except perhaps the usual humors,
The greetings ‘Good Morning, and Hello’,
The simple inquiry about your health,
Asking the everyday about how are you,
I would never have gotten to the point,
That loathsome feeling, you love me no more.

And equally, both sad and disturbing,
That mine, the warmest of regard,
Turns to disdain, and fervent wish,
We speak no more, and I never see you again.

I feel you woman. I have the telepathic gift
To hear when you think of me, and you know it!
Right now I could clench my teeth,
Do an inward scream, whose loudness
Would awake you and disturb your sleep to dawn.

I wish I could caress you,
Practice the arts I had just started,
Oh had I more time to turn you,
To make you a slave to love, enthrall you,
But I really wish I have forgotten you,
Relegated your touch to darksome region,
A place free, where I might
No longer remember your name.

Can’t you fall in love with someone else?

I know it's wrong for me to say,
I love you.

Darling we have run amiss,
No! Not wise to see the road,
The road running to distant horizon,
With its ultimate end, the final end of us.
Neither can I live with nor without you.


Tuesday, September 23, 2008

LUNCH AT PANERA

http://stanley.pacion.googlepages.com/homepage

http://stanley.pacion.googlepages.com/sexandhistory

http://www.youtube.com/StanleyPacion

http://www.stanleypacion.net

LUNCH AT PANERA



The streets are joyous, full of fun.

I hear laughter wherever I go.

I could not ask for more.
I walk to the door of our home,
Then, before I enter,
I picture you and hear your warm, ‘Hello!’


With racing mind and energetic flesh –
I can not believe it, the delight!
I burn intensely! I am acido bambino!

You want to stay, to be my friend.

When we sit down for sandwiches
And the simple glass of water,
Two washed apples for desert,
We say that future ages might note,
Our table talk was bound for grandeur,
Mere words attain immortality,
We live well beyond lunchtime hour.

Everything we do dissolves the difference,
We loose distinction between yours and mine.

I see out the window,
A bright light illuminates the scene.
I need no coin for the wishing well.
My goal is close at hand.

I have never witnessed
Such contentment on a woman’s face
.
The webradio forecasts sunny days.
Now I know the poet’s proclamation,
The meaning of new morning,
Grace so freely disposed that though
I, unworthy and lost, learned
Vocabulary of redemption, reborn,
The bounty of your great love saved me.

Despite your troubles and your travels,
We laugh together
No matter the physical distance between us.
A part of you always stays with me.

I take you in my arms and hold you,
Like I hold you in this verse of mine.
Let me take you in my arms and tell you
How much I have missed you,
Let me tell you how much I have missed you
Now that we have been apart.

Sunday, September 21, 2008

KISS ME ONCE, A Response

http://stanley.pacion.googlepages.com/homepage

http://stanley.pacion.googlepages.com/sexandhistory

http://www.youtube.com/StanleyPacion

http://www.stanleypacion.com/


KISS ME ONCE, A Response



I sing tonight. It's the ol' babalu.

Though tired and drawn, I am called.

There's a knock at the door.


The prophecy takes hold.
The school lessons progress.
The command of language multiplies.
The student seems eager.
Dimension gains hold.
Dreams of tomorrow grow.
Wishes come true.
New life looms on the horizon.
Fantasy now reality.
The promises burgeon.
There is pregnancy of parts,
And ocean of delight.
Hello! Darling, hello!

'Kiss me once, kiss me twice.
Then kiss me once again.’
I want your lips on mine.

‘It's been a long, long time.'


Wednesday, September 17, 2008

WELL,WELL,WELL! A Response

http://stanley.pacion.googlepages.com/homepage

http://stanley.pacion.googlepages.com/sexandhistory

http://www.youtube.com/StanleyPacion

http://www.stanleypacion.com/

WELL, WELL, WELL!
A Response


It won’t be long now,

Our love, how it plays its final story,
Like all else in world’s glory,
Soon end and be no more.


Perhaps we might never meet again.
We learn the awful ache,
What separation means,
When time runs out and we see
It’s too late to mend a heart
That has been rendered, torn apart.

Right now I feel it’s true,
We will never meet again, while
We live this side of heaven, while we
Yet abide earth’s shore of the river.

Strange, yeah, our fragile hope
That you stop it with your forked tongue,
Abandon your bad habit, and proclaim,

Admit it; you broke the deal,
And, as for me, you know the story,
Surrender, otherwise, forget it,

Just say to all, to one and all,
I am gone, you’ve done me wrong.
I swear, I don’t care, I don’t care.
I am gone. Gone, Gone, Gone,


I am through with you in my face,
All the lies about your miserable fate,

I’ve had it! I’m really gone! Moved on,
Because you done me wrong!

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

PLEDGING MY LOVE, Abide with Me

http://stanley.pacion.googlepages.com/homepage

http://stanley.pacion.googlepages.com/sexandhistory

http://www.youtube.com/StanleyPacion

http://www.stanleypacion.net
PLEDGING MY LOVE,
Abide with Me



Abide with me for fast falls eventide.

Darkness deepens with alacrity,
Nothing halts the night.

Stay with me while time yet allows,
When other helpers fail,
And other comforts flee.
Allow me to mean the best,
Help, where others only helpless seem.


I want to be alone with you.

Though so many things to tell,
One thing sums it right,
One thing huge, deep and great,
It’s with ocean of delight,
My heart embraces you.

You, my love, are all my life today.

Allow my help, I mean to assuage
What ever wrongs cause distress,
Spare your soul from bottom and regret.

When hopeless seems word of day,
I wish to assure, reveal very truth,
Though you in mortal moment seem
Great light, it’s infinity -- blesses you.

Happy outcome, your every secret dream,
An absolute alignment, God’s will be done,
That power to carry it out,

And to top it off!

May you receive the greatest gift,
That you love prayer and proclaim,
When sun arise and you wake to day,
Thank you, Lord, for life,
And all you have done for me.

Monday, September 15, 2008

SOUL LODGING, Rewrite

http://stanley.pacion.googlepages.com/homepage

http://stanley.pacion.googlepages.com/sexandhistory

http://www.youtube.com/StanleyPacion

http://www.stanleypacion.com/

SOUL LODGING, Rewrite


Bear me, quickly hence!

Oh! Some god, bear me
To lovely bedroom scene,
To where Love sits,
To where she combs,
She combs her beauteous hair.


Take me, oh merciful divinity!
Take me to where
Grace reigns among her peers
With her wit and mind,
Mercy! She remains unparalleled.

The stillness of her flesh,
The steady rhythm of breath,
Cosmic glory of her face,
Supreme, she sleeps
At rest her beauty, unmatched,
I contend she has no rival!

Serve me! Transport me,
By heaven powered, ecstatic,
To her bed, my body, transport it,
Place it, my body! Place it, my flesh,
Set it next to hers. Ready it for love!

Next to her in repose,
My soul lodges happily,
She is towering keep.
No storm, no force of arms,
Nothing disturbs her enclosure.

In her embrace, life secure,
Peace of mind, assured.

Oh force divine, deliver me
To her safe fortress!
The stronghold mortal monarchs
Merely hope to attain.

SICK OF LOVE, Forthright

http://stanley.pacion.googlepages.com/homepage

http://stanley.pacion.googlepages.com/sexandhistory

http://www.youtube.com/StanleyPacion

http://www.stanleypacion.com/

SICK OF LOVE,
Forthright



I offer my sincere apology.
I have been selfish
For I have arrogantly believed
I have given enough of myself
Over this last year plus to merit,
If not love, then at least respect,
A home, my heart,
And every kind of affective support,
Was I not a gentle, loving soul?


You asked me for patience,
What more of that virtue
Might any mortal expect?

Have I not offered to put your life
Before my own, I would die for you!

Is that not enough?
Tell me! Tell me!
Know not what you have done?

How is it that at this moment
Loving you seems so wrong?

Call upon Mercy,
Pray you might be exalted,
Act in accordance,
His will be done,
Now on earth as it is in heaven.

Understand for sake of your soul,
For good of your physical wellbeing,
Right exists, there is wrong.

Who throws away love?
I know the answer, I was sad,
I was once sick, too.

Darling, I see fire in the trees.
I dream a terrible dream,
Men with touches approaching!
The heat has become intense.
A conflagration readies to surround us.
What hope remains of rescue?

Friday, September 12, 2008

A SANSKRIT TRANSLITERATION, Traditional

http://stanley.pacion.googlepages.com/homepage

http://stanley.pacion.googlepages.com/sexandhistory

http://www.youtube.com/StanleyPacion

http://www.stanleypacion.com/



A SANSKRIT TRANSLITERATION,
Traditional



Look to the day, today,
For day is all we have,
It is the very breath of life.
In its brief, twenty-four-hour course,
From sunrise to sunrise next,
Dawn the real and the true,
The absolute of existence,
The bliss of growth,
The splendor of action,
And the glory of power --


For history is over and closed,
The past, gone, finished.
And future no more than vision,
A dream concoction,
Mind’s eye creates the fantasy
That we have one more day,
Nothing guarantees tomorrow

But today, well lived,
Doing our best with time at hand,
Makes every yesterday a dream of happiness,
And should there a tomorrow dawn,
Then tomorrow becomes expectant,
And future fills with hope.

Look well, therefore, to this day.

Tuesday, September 9, 2008

WELL, WELL, WELL!

http://stanley.pacion.googlepages.com/homepage

http://stanley.pacion.googlepages.com/sexandhistory

http://www.youtube.com/StanleyPacion

http://www.stanleypacion.com/

WELL, WELL, WELL!



It won’t be long now,

Our love, how it plays its final story,
Like all else in world’s glory,
Soon end and be no more.


Perhaps we might never meet again.
We will learn the awful ache,
What separation means,
When time runs out and we see
Too late to mend a heart
That has been rendered, torn apart.

Right now I feel it’s true,
We will never meet again, while
We live this side of heaven, while we
Yet abide earth’s shore of the river.

Strange, yeah, our hope
That you stop it with your forked tongue,
Quit your bad habit, and proclaim,

Admit it; you broke the deal,
And, as for me, you know the story,
Surrender, otherwise, forget it,

Just say to all, to one and all,
I am gone, you’ve done me wrong.
I am gone. Gone, Gone, Gone,
Really gone! Moved on,
Because you done me wrong!

Sunday, September 7, 2008

A QUICK ONE, II

http://stanley.pacion.googlepages.com/homepage

http://stanley.pacion.googlepages.com/sexandhistory

http://www.youtube.com/StanleyPacion

http://www.stanleypacion.com/

A QUICK ONE, II


Let me write a quick note,
Simply say I adore you.




Let me take this moment, or two,
And publish, 'You are the best thing,
That has ever happened in my life!'

May God forgive me,
I have no wish to disdain His greatest gift,
Yet would I gladly give up my life for yours.

Allow me this simple interlude,
A paean to the experience,
The joy of having had splendid fortune,
How wonderful the time I spend with you!


Friday, September 5, 2008

GODDESS

http://stanley.pacion.googlepages.com/homepage

http://stanley.pacion.googlepages.com/sexandhistory

http://www.youtube.com/StanleyPacion

http://www.stanleypacion.com/

GODDESS



The first time I saw you.
It was in a remote world;
It was years ago.


You, yourself, were in a niche, manifest,
In a Hindu temple, a marble figure,
With your eyes carved wide-open.
You were adorned in regal, pageant gown
Dyed violet; it matched the color of your eyes.

Your right arm, it protruded direct, out
From the shoulder, it was bent right angle
At the elbow, it had a barely clenched fist atop,
And from your fist a thumb extended
Straight up perpendicular to your body,
Its signal was unmistakably providential,
It signed good luck, ‘thumbs up’.

Brass bowls of red-hot coals burned
Perfumed joss sticks at your feet.

Your supplicants cued from portal to portal arch,
They humbly awaited chance to implore good fortune.

And they carried on polished metal trays
Oblations of fresh-cut flowers and I remember seeing
Strings of marigolds, cluster upon cluster of pompons,
And with them bunch of large lotus flowers.

They offered all kind of fruit.
There were bananas, coconuts, and pomegranates.

All was splashed with bright vermilion powder,
As if to inform the procession,
To remind those petitioners that once,
That once, it was not so long ago,
Blood had sanctified the sacrifice.

And me, I await, patient.
I am just another mortal, who prays for favor,
Hope to tease meaning from your stare,
I desire, I wish for you to bless me,

My eyes are locked,
They dwell upon your motionless and painted face.

I go deep within my pocket, pull
Wrapped, hard candies, add them to my tray of gifts,
And excitedly exclaim, tell
The temple priests, I wear appropriate raiment,

That my nostrils detect your mango fragrance!

And in the clamor, coming up, almost inaudible,
Against the background noises of the street,
I believe I hear your coded parlance,
'I miss you'. You tell me, you miss me.

I am on my knees, here is my plea,

Goddess, Love, grant me the serenity
To accept the long absence
Before you are flesh in my arms again,

The courage to change those things about me
So better to pray and be proper devotee,

And the wisdom to remain faithfully yours,
To be yours and yours alone, today, tomorrow,
Whatever obstacles may bar the way,
Stay a course steadfast and loyal, fervently always.


Thursday, September 4, 2008

SWEDISH CINEMA, Another Response

http://stanley.pacion.googlepages.com/homepage

http://stanley.pacion.googlepages.com/sexandhistory

http://www.youtube.com/StanleyPacion

http://www.stanleypacion.com/

SWEDISH CINEMA, Another Response


When I remember the scenes of our life together,
I imagine them happening on the silver screen.
You stand up close against me,
A white shirt, a subtle smile,
And look to me warmly and say
Words the heroine whispers to the hero.



I hear violins when you kiss me.

Were it possible, these,
The flickering moments to capture,
I would replay this celluloid forever.

SWEDISH INTERMENT, A Response

http://stanley.pacion.googlepages.com/homepage

http://stanley.pacion.googlepages.com/sexandhistory

http://www.youtube.com/StanleyPacion

http://www.stanleypacion.com/


SWEDISH INTERMENT, A Response




You know it's all bullshit, honey,
This talk of visionary moment and prophetic feat,
No more than ploy,
Another way me getting into your pants.


Yet loving you no quick turn of verse,
It's serious task, requiring dedicated effort.



At prognostication I am gifted.
I have always been able to see around corners.
On our first night we slept together,
You may recall, I told you I saw our future,
I knew what was going to happen.

And once you actually experience,
Live an event which I prefigure,
You recognize about it uncanny familiarity,
Déjà vu, you feel the situation,
As if it were previously known,
Or may have been already played,
An event you swear you had witnessed ages before.

This power strikes deep. It causes tremble,
And it bestows pleasant excitement;
It makes life expectant.
With me you will learn to swoon and shudder.
You will know warm and be hot all over,
Yet others freeze in midwinter.

I told you your grandfather speaks to me.
His voice emerges from a dream,
Though the setting's familiar, my own bedroom,
The light comes from afar,
Suffusing the space and me within it,
I dwell in delicious, excellent hues of red and green.

He tells me I am the man of the house,
And gently brings to fore knowledge,
Oh! He speaks with unmistakable clarity;
Happiness the product of our life together.

I have another secret; I want to share with you.
I envision major experience,
Not unlike Leda's when she learned;
It was a god who had entered her.
You should know from you will issue --
Yes, marvelous to relate! --
Being supreme, a mortal whose
Life and renown, belongs to that golden,
Regal realm, where Homer rules king.

I slip, revealing more than I intend.

I knew it. I knew it early on in life,
Long years before your birth,
Within truck farm fields,
Along the rows of cabbage and corn,
My love for you was growing strong,
I had sight then, ears to catch the sounds,
And nose to whiff out the dreams,
Conferred on me, oracular, from on high.

I stepped out from the Hitching Post Diner.
I saw you! It was you.
On the packed-mud bridal path, just ahead,
By a yard or two, down the trail were you,
Your form preceded me, walking apace.

This last August, eleventh,
Before we had begun to date,
Between bed sheets wet from too much sweat,
Your heat wakened me.
I knew the smell of you!
They were your odors bursting up my nostrils
From the threads of woven cotton,
While I in my bed that lonely summer's night.
I had instantly recognized those fragrances,
Once I slept with you,
Once your presence entered my pores.

And now, again, the moment, it commands
My fingers on the keyboard in front of me.
Before I had met you,
I realize I heard it, your name!
I heard your name,
Though it came to me from time, prior,
Yes, actually previous to your birth!

I assure you, when yet not adolescent, a child,
No more than ten or eleven years old,
I witnessed destiny from landscape in Illinois.
The refocusing veils of shimmer, aurora borealis,
The phantasmagoric curtains of shifting color,

So utterly present, then, in a feint,
As if by trick of hand, gone,
Held me captive; I had fallen to trance, bewitched,
And in the midst of this awesome, display,
From the far North, your name, I heard it.

I heard! I heard your name; it was announced,
While the green and red flames of light crackled
Along the vault of the universe,
I looked, glimpsed into future time.

And that very self-same night,
I was no more than ten or eleven years old,
From the backyard lawn of my childhood home,
Facing north and up into nighttime colors,
I witnessed destiny from landscape in Illinois.

I saw oak trees growing outside an iron fence,
And above a low earthen mound, a cemetery marker,
My name, it was struck upon a gravestone.
I knew it. I knew the certainty;
The ground I saw was in Sweden.

The green and red flames crackled your name
Along the vault of the universe,
I was a child, no more than ten or eleven years old,
I stood entranced, captive,
Gazing into the aurora borealis, bewitched.

Wednesday, September 3, 2008

CORPORAL, Version II


http://stanley.pacion.googlepages.com/homepage

http://stanley.pacion.googlepages.com/sexandhistory

http://www.youtube.com/StanleyPacion

http://www.stanleypacion.com/

CORPORAL, Version II



The corporal, he saw time,
He saw thirty seconds, he saw temporal instance,
He saw the spin, the vortex, the event plane,
Where all disappeared, but to him it was real,
Just like any other object in the book of life.


He was turning the corner into his living room,
He saw the couch become clear light,
Transparent, a configuration of lines,
Blue lines on white background, and at the bottom,
Right hand corner a lined, rectangular box spelled out
Blanks to be composed at latter time,
They read NAME, ADDRESS, PROJECT TITLE.

Corporal walked out of the dream,
He slipped into another familiar space,
He lay upon the bed on his back,
He bent forwards and touched he feet,
He grasped his toes. He was smarting;
He was hurting all over! He suffered!
It seemed every muscle, every joint ache.

My! What a plethora of subjects crossed his mind.

The corporal, he saw every crack and crevice of heaven.
He rolled up, brought knees to chest, and then a flash,
He caught such gigantic power
He broke the bubble and went beyond,
He went way beyond the stars, he walked a field,
The wheat had grown up to his waist,
He ran full speed, and he could see himself,
He could see himself stark, dark figure in the distance,
While he ran, he ran, break neck, towards horizon,
Horizon of black-and-yellow, checker-board-colored sky,

It was at that moment he turned to ask her,

Their clothes were scattered throughout the parlor,
It was late night and a view of lower Manhattan lights,
The buildings, street lamps and bridges burned,
The illumination was awesome out the window,
Out the window view from
The twenty-fifth floor of the high rise,

He asked how it had been for her,

And she, adopting chapter and verse from
The good Doctor Leary’s work, replied,

‘A thousand times better, it was!’
A thousand times better, corporal queried?
‘It was a thousand times better!’ She said.

 
Custom Search