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BY LOVE BEGUILED
Don't
get me wrong.
If
I appear distracted,
Look knocked out by the light,
Look knocked out by the light,
You
make a very strong performance,
A singularity into whose axis my mind spins.
I remember once, years ago,
When I landed in New York,
After living a year and half in Europe,
How the neon of America,
It appeared so awesomely garish, and bright.
Yet, when I close my eyes and picture it,
All seems pale before the radiance of your face.
That two people would meet for morning breakfast,
Look out the café's window at the steady rain,
Walk here and there along avenues of
Inviting store fronts, and before the day is over
Fall into grand attachment one for the other,
A singularity into whose axis my mind spins.
I remember once, years ago,
When I landed in New York,
After living a year and half in Europe,
How the neon of America,
It appeared so awesomely garish, and bright.
Yet, when I close my eyes and picture it,
All seems pale before the radiance of your face.
That two people would meet for morning breakfast,
Look out the café's window at the steady rain,
Walk here and there along avenues of
Inviting store fronts, and before the day is over
Fall into grand attachment one for the other,
As
though there were something in the air,
Perhaps some electromagnetic charge,
So the occasional electricity might overwhelm us.
Or perhaps it was cupid who stole
Perhaps some electromagnetic charge,
So the occasional electricity might overwhelm us.
Or perhaps it was cupid who stole
Behind
fixtures of the thoroughfares?
I thought I had spied him crouched near a mailbox,
At start of our walk on Main Street in Point Pleasant!
The winged child pulled from his quiver, arrows,
Their heads were dipped in love potion,
I thought I had spied him crouched near a mailbox,
At start of our walk on Main Street in Point Pleasant!
The winged child pulled from his quiver, arrows,
Their heads were dipped in love potion,
I
was thinking along the lines of the ancient story,
That
once he aimed and shot them,
Grievously
would they tear mortal flesh
To make for a ruckus extraordinaire.
To make for a ruckus extraordinaire.
I felt that expectations were suddenly turning great.
This romance presses hard upon me.
It is a love I am compelled to profess.
To gain your confidence,
To prove my mind sound, not at loss to reason,
I couch my verse
In
a mood commonly called the subjunctive.
Though
the posing of this frame of mind
Has
little usage in today's English,
I
try its grammar, or, is it, pretend to use it, so to temper
My
over-wrought affection and to quiet,
Soften my immodest and elevated parlance.
Were I not to employ this principle of language,
One might believe my love for you be shameless.
The mood, also, provides proper relief
For the all, too-far-out attitude, the conceit,
Whose command animates my senses,
That I have come to possess a gift, as it were,
Soften my immodest and elevated parlance.
Were I not to employ this principle of language,
One might believe my love for you be shameless.
The mood, also, provides proper relief
For the all, too-far-out attitude, the conceit,
Whose command animates my senses,
That I have come to possess a gift, as it were,
That
Higher Power had granted me prophetic mantle.
Understand.
I solely express my own wish and desire,
That all I say remain contingent --
Of mind still hypothetical and dependent.
I do not use the imperative, I make no demand.
I have no special outcome in mind.
I dwell in fortress called Zion,
And come from it in the Pilgrims' coat and hat.
I look in the mirror and see their collar and tie.
And, like those passengers on board the Mayflower,
I know the Lord to be my helper. I fear not.
Who among your former friends has ever said it better?
And were you to live a long and hearty life
As all actuaries predict, what future friend
That all I say remain contingent --
Of mind still hypothetical and dependent.
I do not use the imperative, I make no demand.
I have no special outcome in mind.
I dwell in fortress called Zion,
And come from it in the Pilgrims' coat and hat.
I look in the mirror and see their collar and tie.
And, like those passengers on board the Mayflower,
I know the Lord to be my helper. I fear not.
Who among your former friends has ever said it better?
And were you to live a long and hearty life
As all actuaries predict, what future friend
Might
ever phrase it near as well as I have put it?
And if you ask the source of this lyric
That it arrive, transcending the usual,
And if you ask the source of this lyric
That it arrive, transcending the usual,
Everyday
phrase and common syntax, I must rejoin
That
Sentiment Supreme, Him, the real pilot,
That when we drove in the white, Ford van and crossed
Jersey's North shore highways, while the soft brown,
Oh that magic, dream-like, living, pale, ethereal,
And somewhat golden light accented the downpours,
Whose constant unleashed falling, more
Like rain the Lord had promised Noah,
Than any explicable, temporary phenomenon of weather.
Wie es eigentlich gewesen.
That when we drove in the white, Ford van and crossed
Jersey's North shore highways, while the soft brown,
Oh that magic, dream-like, living, pale, ethereal,
And somewhat golden light accented the downpours,
Whose constant unleashed falling, more
Like rain the Lord had promised Noah,
Than any explicable, temporary phenomenon of weather.
Wie es eigentlich gewesen.
“The
carriage held but just us -- and immortality.”
That when we traveled our first day together,
Though it is months ago, and now becomes the years,
All the time which has passed, I suggest
That when we traveled our first day together,
Though it is months ago, and now becomes the years,
All the time which has passed, I suggest
That
it would feel shorter than the day, that day
I first surmised the engine's mounts
Were tied to point, and that we, too, were belted,
Hurled straight ahead in solemn league with Eternity.
I first surmised the engine's mounts
Were tied to point, and that we, too, were belted,
Hurled straight ahead in solemn league with Eternity.
Mercy,
let it be known, Mercy freely bestowed,
Not
for this, the one earthly moment,
But
for our children’s children,
Drawn
and signed, delivered,
A
grant for us and them, settled in this verse,
Sure
as Word once promised Abraham.
I
hear the text my grandmother spoke.
I
see her at work while she ironed and folded,
Stoop
to lay the laundry
Into
the oval wicker basket at her feet,
And
I, the child, I watch her nod the affirmative nod,
Repeat
to you what she said to me,
“And
I will bless them that bless you,
And
curse him that curses you...”
And
then the line which revealed for me
How
the stanza means,
That
in you, I mean in you my darling, “... in you
“Shall
all the families of the earth be blessed.”
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