These are the facts, nothing here but the facts. I was on the road to Damascus via a street in the West Village in New York City, when, in an instant, barometric pressure had dropped 100 MB. Darkness enveloped an eleven-o’clock-morning sun. It may have been a trick of the mind, or some kind of serious panic disorder. Although I could no longer see, I pictured myself a child on a visit to my great grandmother's house in La Salle, Illinois. In my head I felt as though a tornado was approaching...
In commentary upon a poem, I had previously uploaded, a fellow writes, A man my age ought to stay content to garden, Or maybe care for grand child, or two; Wonders how my moments be misspent, Wasted in romance, Stuck upon heart-rending verse?
Yea, sure, but grant me life, and frankly What do I care about minor-league opinion? No sad thoughts ever block my way; I celebrate love and how divinity empowers!
Hey! Anyways, no problem here,
I thank him for the time, Acknowledge his response. Give the commentator appropriate due, Yet I insist, no fear, no worry of rebuke, I have no problem when I proclaim.
I keep bleeding, bleeding in love.
I take delight Note more command of Word, More love’s vocabulary rests within my little finger, Than occupies all the many heads, Which people an army of negativity.
I keep bleeding, bleeding in love.
Once Son of Man lost life, He was crucified and nailed upon a cross, And when He rising from dead, He fulfilled the Holy Writ and dies no more. And we ourselves after Resurrection, Shall be ‘Ever with the Lord,’ And lo and behold he who loves, Not necessarily wisely, but well, Remember the promise, He shall be with Him today in heaven.
WHAT IS IT? A Poem Styled after Erich Fried’s, WAS ES IST?
It’s nonsense, Says Reason; It is alpha and omega, Says Heart.
It brings suffering, Nothing but pain, We may never breach The Grand Canyon, This separates us, No matter how many, We celebrate, The wedded years, the bliss, Rejoins Analysis.
But we might die for it, Gladly give our life Hence it remains the chief, The whole of existence, Romance mightily counters.
Folly, The height of irresponsibility, It seduces us From nobility and labor, And would have us forget, The disappointment, That sad story we already know. Insanity to repeat What had happened before, And expect to gain different result, Reckons Logic.
No! Not so, Love hollers.
It is a state of grace, Not the means To one thing, or another, But wholly resides within itself, It signifies God’s Eternity, Claims my Desire.
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 were fate to bring us to terrible juncture, A crossroad where all choice reduces To either my life, or yours, Gladly would I give up mine, I would die for you.
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!
When we had met, mask of youth, And its costume was still upon you, Then the next year, 9/11, it marked the city forever, Downtown burned, towers had fallen, and all the dead, Though today, it hard to believe, The smell dominated the air, Yet there at last days of December, it was, All the way to West 26th Street, A bad omen, I guess.
I remember that Christmas Eve, Your first and only holiday spent in New York, You later confided.
You were different then, more girl Than the grown woman you are today.
You had bought silver jewelry, I was at market and you stood before the showcase, Studied the pieces, awaited me to make the move And price to drop, bargained without word, Used patience as your tool, you figured, I was in a hurry, wanted to get home.
It seems halcyon, when I look back, Though the impact of that disaster surrounded us, When I picture you, recall your eyes Expectant, be-all, the end-all, Tomorrow’s promise, stayed awesome and bright, I want to say, etched, But no lines, at that time visited your face.
You were different then, more girl Than the grown woman you are today.
And you appeared happy, light upon your feet, I judge your back had not come to bother you yet. You had a man, and you relished in his friendship, Maybe you wished the start to family, Saw for yourself a real, happy ending, hey?
My defenses were still intact, No idea you would play, lead in dream-wish drama, Whose title read, cherished above all others, That when I fell within the sphere of your limbs, I would start believing, Make it an apostle’s creed, a matter of faith, Though love be only a feeling, it drifts away.
All good sense and sensibility abandoned, I was yours, The pleasure of your company engulfed me, And once I placed my hand upon your knee, Oh heart beat, beating fast, lasting long, day after day, Together, no matter what I might have done, However I might have conspired to end it.
You said, love, now and forever, I know it’s trite, nothing I should write, Unworthy of poetry, your promise, Yeah, until the end of time, and you, Today I feel, as if, you had purposefully played me, You laughed at notion, desire might ever wane, Though love be only a feeling, You swore ours here to stay.
Anyone who seeks, Fervidly wants dream come true, Gets the sense of what I am saying, knows The terrible desire, that were it possible, A replay of yesterday’s grassy splendor, To enjoy again the glory in the flower, Despite the rapid descent, the finality marking, Every bit of human radiance and beauty, No matter how grand, ambitious the effort, -- Isn’t it already written? -- The rainbow comes and goes, Some where out at space time’s edge, Gamma ray bursts post daily funerary notice. Entire worlds disappear, who calculates that agony?
No human comprehends the sorrow, Immensity overwhelms us, And we might simply shrug our shoulders, What answer when there is pain and life no more?
We acknowledge how impossible to variegate the end, Great, bright light, then extermination!
And for us, for you and me, it is same story, Anguish, the very definition, To cling to silly notions, and hold them right, When the telephone is off the hook, And all the doors are shut.
World knows, love, only a feeling, It drifts away, and, I, fool, believed, I believed, I thought at odds, forgot the foreboding, Paid no heed to events, the remains, The awful atmosphere of Christmas, that December, Instead, sure we had mastered of our affections, Our land, the land called Eden, Positive we had won, and continued the delusion That, and as you had promised, ours was special, And contrary to every dictate of reason, I had come to believe we had found it, Love, here to stay, bright sun, morning after morning, Endless awakening, fresh flowers everyday, A bed with gorgeous sheets and pillows fluffed, Despite love, it being only a feeling, Like the youth, we at one time owned, and Had been our possession, it drifts away.
When I have fears that I may cease to be, Sonnet, John Keats, RECITATION
When I have fears that I may cease to be Before my pen has glean'd my teeming brain, Before high piled books, in charact'ry, Hold like rich garners the full-ripen'd grain; When I behold, upon the night's starr'd face, Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance, And think that I may never live to trace Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance;
And when I feel, fair creature of an hour! That I shall never look upon thee more, Never have relish in the faery power Of unreflecting love;—then on the shore Of the wide world I stand alone, and think, Till Love and Fame to nothingness do sink.
I seek. I crave the whiff, your body scent, Your fragrance, I remember, it’s as if, You’re in my arms right here at home today.
My resolve, it weakens, I want you back. I’m lonely, turn the covers, Find only bed empty and heart ache, The terrible pain of my regret, Oh how I hate the resolve, never to see you, Have nothing more to do with you, How ever long I may live, I swear to it and mean it!
Yet I want you. Wish to see you, your form Behind the shower curtain, ghost figure in the steam, The water running full throttle, the heat, The great comfort, I close my eyes, I fall to vision; it’s incredible, beyond belief, I fail in my recount, you, you, my darling,
I have come to believe you were heaven sent.
Can’t you see I’m at your feet!
I wish to witness your getting dressed, You, in the morning naked in our bedroom, and Naked in the room whose door opens Opposite to the foot of our bed, Hurrying to get on with the day,
And then the other part, morning, noon, Or night, when you are in our bed, And I hold you open to savor over and over again.
I want to see your smile, and utterly to embrace you. Were I to steal – now and forever – all your pain away!
I would be finished with you, I want you out, But you, devil, trickster, you and your incantations, You practice arts you learned when young, When you and your mother spent all that time, Back and forth on boat going to the Bahamas, You use high-tech, gigabyte millions, You work a black magic, Have you command of infectious virus? The computer’s screen beckons me, keeps me awake.
Believe me when I tell you, I hear your voice, your whispers, Behind the sounds, behind the hum of the circuitry, You’re calling, and then writing me notes, Hoping to fill, to close up the empty between us, And I am compelled to read, Though the letters do not include me, Of course, not word, nothing, Nothing about how things might be going for me.
Your only concern you, and how terrible you, How terrible you feel, and with those words, The wound reopens, my festering cut, the red hot, (Why do I care? Why do I even open your notes?) The pain surrounding the punctured, The ripped and torn, the awful marks of the lash, There has not been time enough, Will ever there be time enough, My flesh, properly, to heal?
And forgive me the blasphemy, forgive! Lord have mercy, save me!
I am reminded of Jesus after the beating, When they tore off the purple, Returning Him to everyday clothes, Then at Golgotha where they stripped Him, Before they nailed Him to the cross, They stripped him, once more, The pain of those wounds, opened and reopened, Inflicted, over and over, oh the burn, every time, Every time you write me, and I hear from you again.
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. My conscience’s clear.
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.
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 To visit every nook, Every recess of my soul, And all they will find, my love, They will only find, only, my love for you.
