Storybooks and Treasure Maps

7/29/2019 Storybooks and Treasure Maps

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A. E. H.(1859-1939)

Hausman pines in pain,Nevermore to gain

Friends that once sat nearLaughing over beer.

Friends and love forlorn:Better not be born

Than complain in verse,Over-taut and terse.

1976Adios to Ernest Tubb

(02-09-14 to 09-06-84)

In Nashville, all those tourists visit Broadway every day;They buy those Dolly Parton posters there;

But the record shop of Ernest Tubb wont seem the same no moreSing Adios to Ernest Tubbhe used to walk that floor.

Inside therere old brown photographs displayed upon the wallOf Jimmie Rodgers, and Roy, and Kitty Wells;

On his radio show he helped some kid name of Elvis get a chanceSing Adios to Ernest Tubb, and his Western-Country dance.

Across the street is Tootsies Lounge, where beer and memories flow;Nearby, the Grand Ole Opry used to play

Where E. T. helped Loretta face that famous microphone;Sing Adios to Ernest Tubbhes the best friend Nashvilles known.

He was Lone Star lean and lanky, with a voice like Texas sandAnd he used electric guitars, way back when;

Instead of wasting tears tonight, lets everybody singSing Adios to Ernest Tubbhe made that dance floor swing.

09-07-84

After Sunset

The reddened riot of wine-rich sunSpills over skies of afternoon,

And purpling-reds of the day now doneSplash!--then dissolve, so soon.

And sunset turns a violet greyMixing with twilights magic blur,

Revealing the fairy-shapes at play,Listen!-- to wings soft whir.


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11-01-79

Algae

Green, green skies of Sardantha,Tarnish the copper-red sun,And the Princess Mirantha,

Knows the city is done.

Doomed, doomedlike the old fableWarns in its rhyme,

She sits down at the table

Dining with skull-featured Time.

10-22-77

All Hallows Eve Epilogue

You say this little book of verseIs stranger that the rest youve seen?

Remembernothings ever worseThan being born on Halloween.

A poets birthday shouldnt beA holiday to raise the dead,

And yet my anniversaryIs when the greedy ghouls are fed.

01-13-67

Advertisement

The purple-wanded wizard casts

Enchantment that lastsBeyond your petty life and place:A spell that spans space.

His work is even guaranteed;He hasnt got the greed

To spin cheap magic like some do,So let him serve you.

1980

Already Among You

Three hundred years is not too long alive;Therere some of us whove lived twice that!

Immortal race built to sustain, survive,


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With plastic bone, synthetic skin and fat.

12-07-78

Anne (1)

Your heart is a fjord haven,Cove on a ragged coast,And Im your buccaneer,

Lifting a pirate toast.

My heart is a brigantine,Tossed by a corsair sea,

And you are its figureheadCarved from a pliant tree.

Archeological Reverence

The golden chair of opulenceSeats a stately emperor,

Enrobed in royal purple hueOf lichen moss that shrouds his bones from view.

And yet he holds you in his thrall,Millennia since he has lived,

You bow before his exhumed throne,And kiss, in fealty, his toe of bone.

11-16-91August Storm

Summer thunder shatters sky,Wet replaces dry,

Unexpected torrents blot

Out the humid hot.

Is the rain but Natures briefGift for our relief?

Or a random, out-of-placeWaterfall from space?

07-10-78

Babys Manifesto

Now Im twoAnd I talk to you;

When Im fourI ll talk much more.


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03-18-79Back Then They Called Us Rustlers

The gunfighters came up from Texas; they arrived on the railroad train;The Cattlemens Association was bound to control the range.

They had a sheet of paper, a list of names, of men they had to kill;And they left some cowboys bodies in the Wyoming April chill.

Back then they called us rustlers, cause we fought for our own piece of land,Back then they called us rustlers, cause now and then we changed a brand.

They had the money, and they owned the Governor,

Back in the year of Ninety-Two, in the Johnson County War.

In a cold Wyoming November, we lost our three-year old boy,And my woman she didnt say nothing, as she packed up for Illinois.

And you wouldnt believe it to see me now, I work for the biggest ranch in thestate,

And the owner, hes my very best friendwe overcame our range-war hate.

Back then hed have called me a rustler, cause I fought for my own piece ofland,

Back then hed have called me a rustlernow and then I changed one or hisbrands:

With a .44-40 in my hand

Bareback Rider

Out on the heath hies a lady in white,Riding a giant toad;

Who is that woman, luminescently bright,

Spurring her steed on the road?

West Country witch whom, legends recount,Transformed her man with a spell:

Cuckolding lover, she made him her mountUnclad, she straddles him well.

Reptile croaking along on the path;Lady, equestrienne witch,

Whacking his scaly skin with a lath,Hopping each brook and broad ditch.

07-01-91

Believe!

Purple cats are back in style,


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See them on the street,Purple whiskers, purple smile,

Purple pussy feet.

Little children know theyre there,Only grown-ups dont.

Pet the fluffy purple hair,Never mind who wont.

12-02-78

Beverage (2)

Magical dragons toothBrings back youth,

Stir in a diamond-clearMermaids tear,

Drain the cup just as youre told,Dont grow old.

11-04-77

Big Foot

From Canada to California back up in the trees,Theres a legendary creature no one ever really sees,

Hes a snow-man and an ape-man, and a monster and a myth,But hes no one that a man would ever dare to battle with.

On the southern side of Washington, the spring of Sixty-Nine,Now the weather it was colder, up and down the timberline,

And the monster he was hungry and he left his tracks around,But nobody ever saw him, for he never made a sound.

And were never going to catch him, for he always disappears,And the Big Foot, hell keep living for another million years.

Hes the answer and the question, hes the riddle of our time,But nobody ever shoots him, since it turned into a crime.

And they didnt have to pass a law to save his savage hideFor a man whod hunt the Big Foot would be bound for suicide.

But I still would like to see him, from a mile or so away,With a camera so that I could prove the things I have to say,But nobodys going to see him in the woods of Washington,

And make the folks believe it, for it never has been done.

And were never going to catch him, for he always disappears,And the Big Foot, hell keep living for another million years.


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08-12-73

Birthday Eve

The words of the witch from the smoky pyreFell on my ancestors head.

He spat his disdain at the hissing fireAnd cursed at the curse she said.

He died in a month, at his thirtieth year,Birthday and death-day the same,And so did is son, and his, till hereIm the last to possess their name.

I carry a cross, but then so did they.Doctor has checked meIm fine.

But still I am panicked, todays the last dayOf the year that Im twenty-nine.

06-30-82

Bliss (1)

The seas of sleepOnrush and sweep

Me to the shores of farthest dream,Where grounded, I

In slumber liePillowed on diamond sands that gleam.

Then dawning wakesMy sleep and breaks

Reddening-orange above my bed,And burns away

With light of dayVisions from night-land, fled and dead.

09-16-81

Blue Ridge

As August melted from its sticky heat,September watched us traveling to where

Virginia, South Carolina, both do meet:The apple-mountains rich with grape and pear.

Her family and sister welcomed me,Far too polite to ever seem quite real,

I drowned in country hospitalityAnd careful conversation at each meal.

But underneath I felt a tense unease:


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Her elder sister seemed to look through allThe harmony like some lone bird that sees

An animal below about to fail and fall,Our mutual hatred and respect were likeThe hunted for the hunter as it stalks to strike.

10-04-75

Blue Rose(1943- )

Lady like a rosePetals all enclose

Her instead of clothes.

Jonis comingStrumming, thrumming,

Hear the humming.

Feel the ecstasy,Tortured melody,

Sweet, sweet agony.

01-75

Bob Dylan(1941- )

They said he was this voice of youth.That was the biggest lie.

It wasnt told, but he was old,And old men tell the truth.

A Jewish gypsy with guitar

Heard the children cryIn napalm hells. His music tellsUs who we were, and worse, still are.

02-21-82

Boks Ghost(1914-1964)

Leap over galaxies,Swim over starry seas

Washed by the moon.Drink from the morning dew,

Bathe in the misty blue,Immortalsoon.


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Ride every unicorn,Blow on a happy horn

Left you by Pan.Paint with an angels brush,Hear Heavens voices hush,

Awedby a man.

08-22-74

Bredon Hill

On Bredon Hill at summerLads and maidens lie,

And hear the fife and drummerCalling lads to die.

But army bunks are ladenWith love of lad

For lad, and not for maiden:Love that Hausman had.

Love he hoped he hid fromPeople who might see,

Love that one day did comeForth in poetry.

1968

Brevity

Verses too short,Thoughts abort

In tight, constricted space.Choking dreams

Hear their screams,In claustrophobic place.

05-18-81Byronic

My senses are a symphonyOf violent disharmony,Enjoying any melody

Thats sad.

Self-pitys always sweeter thanRemembering that Im a man,And sentimental verses can

Be bad.


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09-27-67

Capitol Hill

She sat in downtown restaurants alone,And read her book until they shut the doors;

Defiant, seventeen, and on her own,She made her coffee last an hour or more.

So when I couldnt find her home I ranRidiculously about the neighborhood,A comic maniac whod been a man

Behaving like a wounded coyote would:I circled, almost howling with brute pain

Around dark Washington, through every placeShe ought to be but wasntalmost insane

Ashamed of panicking for a mere face.The restaurants were empty of her everywhere:Could she have drowned in summers humid air?

05-11-75

Caravan

I.

Ghost-wagons roll in the ruts,Creaking and clattering on,Passing the villagers huts,

Peasants relieved, once theyre gone.

Spirits ten centuries old,Ghosts of barbarian tribes--

Tribes whose maraudings are toldShudderingly by old scribes.

II.

Ghost wagons leave with no trace.Oh, but where is your child?

There he is! But look at his face!Savage-eyed. Daemonic. Wild.

09-16-77

Carrion

The free and defiant LordsOf Litting-Loo

Knew what to do:Their trumpets blew,


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They drew their swords.

They charged on their unicornsWith slack-free reinsAcross the plains.And left remains

Of enemies skewered by horns.

11-09-74

Cat Query

Why are kitties always shes

Even when theyre hes?Feminine to look at, true,

Still-their sexes number two.

6-3-78

Chanson De La Mort

Lets sing a song about Death!Lets hear it for graveyards and grue!

Lets rhyme the word bones with the obvious stonesUnder stereotypical cypress and yew.

Its charnel house comedy night.The bones dance around on the grass.

Now the contests begunnow the best couples won;A skeleton laddie and lass.

12-18-82

Christmas Symbols

November casts its leaves and days away.The calendars last, best, page remainsDecember. And our losses and our gainsAre summed across a sky of frigid grey

(Forgiving sins from some far August day),Our slate scrubbed clear. The month now wanes;

And yet behind Decembers sleeted panesThere crackles warmth: an ancient mystery play.

Its symbols are the holly and the scented pine.

Humility, not vanity, at end-of-year,And peace to our trespassers and our friends.

The English mistletoethe gift of yours and mineAnd carols that poor sinners, like ourselves, most hear

Then, manger-ward, a band of seers wends.


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1982

Citadel Stormed

Hark! The marching feet of fears,Tramping down your battlefield brain:

An army no one hearsbut you. You feel sharp spearsThat thrust and hurl with scarlet stain.

Flee! The phantom infantries descendMassacring angels in your mind

With scimitars that rend. Retreat. Do not defend,

But cower, maimed and blind.

And now: victorious fifers pipe a piercing skirl!Atop the turret of your soul black flags unfurl.

Clock

How should I measure the turns of time?In raindrops, tears or kisses?In wrinkles, rages, blisses?

How should I count these seasons ImSurviving, beyond number?By snow-by sun-by thunder?

Perhaps to clock them is a crime,Instead Ill sing their going,

Their coming-and their flowing.

03-21-79

Closing Time

When the music stills, as the closing chords are played,I fancy I hear your name,

I stay behind, and tipsy, I proclaimA toast! To our once-love, then limp home, passion-lame.

07-08-81

Coffee at Foxs Bookstore

Our conversation was all of books:

He chatted charminglyOf firsts and points unknown to me

Me, that customer who looksInstead of buys, most frequently:

But whether I bought books or not, the store


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(And mind and heart) swung wide an open door.

09-11-80

Command Performance

In her palace by the seaQueen Belafree

Is reigning from a tarnished throne,Where mosses, algae, climb her walls

Where mildewed, frescoed hallsPeel through plaster to old stone;And seagulls scree, waves moan.

Yet she holds a lively court,Where clowns cavort,

And troubadours sing lilting-sadAnd jugglers toss where acrobats

Spin cartwheels till they lose their hats,Snatching up the coins she throws

Outside, the waterline just rose!

Belafree ignores the tideSo high outside,

Instead she smiles and starts to speak:Now dance! The show must never stop!

Heedless that the ceilings creak,As floors commence to sag and leak

(rev. 1990)

Compost

Egg shells, potato peels,

Fruit scraps from meals,Coffee grindingsFrom thisfood springs.

06-24-78

Confidential

After Mama is asleepLift the blankets up and peep

At that Purple Cat.

Keep it secret what you saw-Purple Cats against the law-(Sos the large Green Rat!)

06-26-78


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Connubial Confusion

Perhaps a third sex will evolve,As genes revolve,

Regroup, and reappear like new.Instead of two,

When people love (next century),It may take three!

07-07-78

Cosmic Snub

I cant convince InfinityTo notice me,

And galaxies of farther spaceWont memorize my face.

12-21-81

Cosmic Thunder

Perhaps the last few leaves of TimeAre dropping off the Lotus Tree,Our little earth will gasp its last

And soon be swallowed up in sea,

Then sea and earth divide and part,Each half dissolve without a trace,

Twin flames that rush with lightning speed,Disintegrating into space.

We may be sitting on a kegOf atoms that will soon explode

And little else of us be leftSave ash along the flaming road.

And when we think ourselves secure,

We may be standing on the brinkOf chasms gorged with blood and fire,

Abysms blacker yet than ink.

It may be while we sleep or wakeThe world will end, a crash will come,

With cleavage of the earth and sea,And thunder of the Cosmic Drum.


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1974

04-16-78

Country Farmhouse

No building long survives Times hurricane,It scatters shingles, rends each roof

And bares the rafters to the rain,The skeleton of walls stands proof

That nothing fashioned by mere Man endures aloof.

Country Muzak

The public doesnt listen long,A few, few seconds and no more,So lets give them an empty song

With melodies weve used beforeA formula they cant ignore.

Of course the public hardly hears,They sense our ill-disguised, obvious disdain,

Theyd rather hear the songs of yearsAgo: the whistles of the train,

Whippoorwills, and country rain.

Court Room

You stand beforeJudgment of the Pit,

On marbled floor,

No place to sit,And no time more:You have squandered it.

The scribe has scrawledCurses on the scroll,

The priest has calledDoom upon your soul,The demons crawledOut of his worm hole.

04-27-75

Crazed Carnival

The fair of folly arrives in town:


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The furled-up banners are flopping down,The Fool is enthroned as the King of all.

So welcome, idiots, leap and fall.

The clowns cavort on the midway strip,Revolving acrobats tumble, flip.

The Fool himself on the trapeze wireDisports himself in a dizzy gyre.

The madness mounts and the crowd joins in,The laughter of lunatics makes a din:

The circus tents an asylum jailImprisoned spectators weep and wail

And Folly triumphs. Fools prevail.

04-09-84

Crimson Witch

Crimson Witch is walking,See her stealthy stalking

Along the forest trail.Crimson Witch is grabbingChildren with her stabbingFingershear them wail.

Villagers are raisingPikes and torches blazing

As hot as crimson hell;Witchs cottage flaring.

Villagers not caringWhat the curses tell.

Crimson curses dooming

Villagers, and loomingImmense along the years:Pestilence descending--

Plague, their bodies rendingCrimson colored tears.

01-29-76

Cursed(For Lord Dunsany)

Ancient towers streamingShadows on the sand:

City doomed to dreaming,Wishing not to stand.


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Gods go on forgivingAll the citys guilt,

So it goes on living,Bitter it was built.

1971Curtain (Finale)

Stand awayFrom the playTitled Life:Scenes are cutFrom your gut

By Times knife.

Stand aside,Let the wide

Stage collapse.Stand apart,

Let your heartDie, perhaps.

Stand aloneLike a bone

Bleaching dry.Deaths your scene,

Played betweenSand and sky.

01-05-75

Curtain

Tomorrows stage will not allow

Us more of Now.And so our comedy is through:Im me, youre you.

Dale Evans Is Riding Tonight

The young girls pony is made from the stick of a broom,With posters of rodeos thumb-tacked all over her room.

She heads off to school with her lunch in a metal lunch pailWith a picture of a cowgirl and the words HAPPY TRAILS!

Dale Evans is riding tonight, on the bright silver screenIn the midst of a young girls dream;

Dale Evans is riding tonightShes the Queen of the West, with her red leather vest


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Dale Evans is riding tonight.

The little girl grows up but she clings to her childhood games,She looks for Roy Rogers but she always attracts Jesse James.She takes a couple of falls in the rodeo called married life

Now shes back in the saddleAdios to those years as a wife.

Dale Evans is riding tonight, on the bright silver screenIn the midst of a young womans dream;

Dale Evans is riding to nightShes the Queen of the West, shes got fringe on her dress


Shes home on the range with her friend the acoustic guitar;Its state fairs and rodeos and too many years in the bars;

Tonight on the stage in Cheyenne shes raising her handThe crowd, gives a roarshes married some guy in her band!

Dale Evans is riding tonight, on the bright silver screenIn the midst of a cowgirls dream;

Dale Evans is riding tonightShes the Queen of the West, in her cattle-brand vest


Dark Highway

Seattle summertime is allForgotten, in an ugly fall

Of fog, and ever-soaking rainThat hammers heavy down

Upon a womans window-pane,As I am leaving town.

Her only souvenirs are someOf my romantic poems fromIllusions of an August love,

That left her out of breathBefore her artist-image ofMe died an autumn death.

October teaches her that IHad my ambitions up too high,

Imagining Id ever beRemembered by a book.

But all of her was offered freeFor taking, so I took.

11-08-67


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Dead Rainbow

The shade of rage is a gory red,The blush of love is gold,The color of your disinterest is lead:

The grey of love grown cold.

The hue of hate is ebony,The wash of faith is white,

The cast of your disdain for meIs black as a loveless night.

December Sky

The moon is misted with rain,And moon-tears dribble and drainThe length of the sky. They fall

Into the Big Dipper, that catches them each and all.

12-09-78

Deception

The emerald grass is high,And silver dewdrops glazeBeneath the pale gold skyWhere unicorns still graze.

Their horns are ivory,And mythical, its true:

But shut your eyes, and seeThem real as me and you.

Delilah Goes Dancing

Her Mama says, Daughter, take care when youre dancing, the boys,They dont step on your feet,

Be fast on your toes. Wear your very best clothes,You never know who you might meet.

Cause life is a ballroom, and youre at the center,With your dress and your pretty red hair.

So get out there and dance, like a paperback romance,Cause you just might meet Fred Astaire.

But the ballrooms were closed, and disco was over,

But in Texas they still like to swing.The fiddles enchant her, and the cowboys they dance her,

And one of them offers his ring.Hes not big in cattle, no, and hes got no oil well,

But hes got a Texas size grin.


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Shes in the family wayhe got a raise in payAnd you ought to see her dance and spin

Now her life is happy, and her life is tragic,And her life is like yours and mine.

When her hair turns to grey and they lay her away,Her children walk by in a line.

But sometimes at night you can see dear Delilah by the church at the top of thehill.

She floats on the breeze, in and out of the trees. She dances and she alwayswill

Delilah goes dancing, shes spending her life in a whirl,Delilah goes dancing, that magical, musical dancing girl.

Demora, Goodbye

I.

I slept, and saw your face again, pale against the dark of dream..Demora, how you haunt my tossing sleep anew!

Unfaithfulthis you sigh across oblivions black streamThat flows like Lethe in my memory

I left you, yesbut for that vampire-mistress, Poetry.

II.

She drains my youth and presses brief sanguine kisses on my soul,And I write sonnets named for her, not you,Although, Demora, you I rather should extol.But I was won away by Poetrys sweet lies,

While you, Demora, stifle sobs and martyred cries.

III.

I woke and saw your face again, bright across the fog of years,Demora, all too late. Futility remains. All else is through.For Poetry deserted me, months ago. She left no tears,

But hinted at a younger lover she desired.Her love for me (like mine for you, Demora), nows expired.

IV.

..

10-13-82

Destination

The bony finger beckons,


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The skeletons white handsInvites us all. The skull-pale pall

Of marble juts and standsMonumental, in the grave-thick lands.

Oblivions sweet countryIs glowing moonlit-bright,

The markers loom. Each urn-capped tombIs skeletally stark tonight.

Hasten toward the tempting, funereal light

09-82

Devout

God is dead, but women do not know itCharmingly refuse to show it!

Performing major little acts of love:Little childrenlittle flowers plucked for wearing,

Bigger burdens bearinggraceful caringAnd terrifying doubts, unmindful of.

01-16-82

Dinner

Time is the vampire that sucks the years dry,Love is the maiden to die;

Time is the ghoul and your life is the mealRich with a gourmet appeal.

Curtains of purple are shredded with rot,After the banquet, youve got

Nothing but age and the end of your love;

Time-vultures circle above.

04-02-77

Documentary(for L. Sprague de Camp, author ofLands Beyond)

The wilder is the tale, the more it must not die.Recorded historys the lie.

Atlantis and Cibola, and Sargasso SeaAnd Flying Dutchmaneach, to me, reality.

03-06-82

Drained


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Church of the true sinners SaintRots under powdering paint;

Still the worshippers fileDown the cold stone-and-brick aisle.

There the masked pagan priest rantsBlasphemy into his chants,

Over the virginal, stillSacrifice poised for the kill.

Stab me and Ill see you soonUnder the vampire-red moon,She promised just as he thrust,

Suddenly flaking to dust.

Two short weeks later it came:Moonlight that dripped a red flame

Over the poor prayerless priest:Tooth marks showed hed been the feast.

07-03-77

Dream Album

Ive been a pirate on black seas,Explorer where the oceans freeze,A monarch on an opaled throne,An islander with rings of bone

Inside the British Colonies thick sectionOf my boyhood stamp collection.

06-15-78

Dream Dust

Beyond the plains of Yet-To-BeHills of Evermore

Are towered, tall above the seaSplashing Times sad shore.

And yet the sands of What-I-HadBlow and storm my brain

And batter me with golden gladSands of youth in vain.

For sand is sad and ever dry,Bleaching out my dreams

Beneath a parching, white-hot sky,Where my pale skull gleams.


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09-30-72

Dream Death

Silver-limbed lady floats past in a dream,Body as soft as warm cream,And her voice like a mandolin.

Why does she visit me only in sleep,Why cant I capture and keep

Her soft hair, and her satin skin?

Faint as a feather, shes blowing away

Gone are those eyes of soft grey,Evergone, like her witch-girl grin.

01-11-79

Dream Haven(For L. Sprague de Camp)

Lands unseen are always best--Landscapes in your mind--

Blessed Islands gleaming westCartographers cant find.

Terra Incognita liesPast all Southern seas,

Under unknown golden skiesThat warm the giant trees.

Animals no man has knownMammoth fruits and plants,

Palisades of precious stone

The shoreline of Romance.

05-06-79

Dream-Hill(1863-1947)

The fairies face a moonThat dims and pales,

And chant their ancient tuneOf Roman Wales.

The Mystery will last:For we still need

The Grail and glories past,And dreams to read.


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So Arthur Machens art

Will murmur on,Till all the elves depart,Till Pan is gone.

08-03-72

Dumb-Show

Puppets pouting, cursing,Snarling on the stage,

Manic marionettes rehearsing

Comedies of rage.

Puppet-master beamingLet the show go on,

Ignore the boos and screaming--Dance till Time is gone.Puppet-master workingStrings until they fray,

Painted manikins stop jerking:Curtain on the play.

04-30-70 (rev. 09-13-90)

Earth-Arson

The demon sits astride a starAnd rides it down the sky.

And from the planet where we areWe wave as he shoots by

Hello, mixed with goodbye.

Is he returning here or not?Nobody seems to know.The earth is melting, molten hot,

Till flames leap from the glow.The demons fault, I know!

09-11-78

Easily Found

Theres a land that is lost, anybody can find:

Follow the fairy streamThrough forests of fable, back in your mind,

In the countryside full of dream.

Oh, so easy to travel and wander back home,


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Over the years once more,Where the rivers and trolls are teasing the gnome,

Trying to make him roar.

08-08-73

Edgar Allan Poe(1809-1849)

In the vaulted mausoleum hear the shriek!Madeline is wresting free

From her tomb-tied agony.Hear the rapping, tapping of the Raven-beak,

Rhyming at your chamber doorTritely, tritely, Nevermore.

Hear the necrophilic, dream-drugged poet speakWith inebriated breath:

UlalumeLenoreRed Death!

Wonder at his lust for wasting, waning, weakEbbing women, bloodless-white,Like Virginia, eyes Death-bright.

Ponder why he only lived to search and seekDeath herself, and loved her true.Sweetest temptress that he knew.

03-15-75

Elaine, Ethereal

I glimpsed you strolling as you always used to do,Graceful as a playful breeze

On the knoll alive with lilies, yesterday.

You wore that tailored shirt of sailor-blue,Tattered jeans above your knees

And your gold-dust hair in sunny disarray.

Erotic wraith, I know youve been untrue!Deaths the lover whom you please.

He seduced you, pretty phantompallid, fey,In denim-blue and sunlit gold. And I feel grey

As your marker, where I kneel and pray.

09-10-82

Elfin Summons


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Obey the steady rollOf some strange drum,

That bids your restive soulCome away, come.

Forsake your trivial life,Depressingly mundane,And heed the fairy fifePiping Pans refrain.

Evacuate this land,Embark for realms unknown,

Where pink-walled castles stand

Hewn from crystal stone.

1968

Elftune(for S. Slattery)

Theres music in the woods tonight,Flute and tambourine,

Fiddle and a soft guitar,Musicians never seen.

Theres music but its out of sight,Where the shadows are:

Little men in gold and greenWho sing to moon and star.

04-09-80

Erasing All Trace of Elaine

Its true, I have forgotten you, Elaine,Utterly, as leaves when leaving summer treesDie unremembering, as they coast along the breeze

Toward autumn ground. No souvenirs remain.Blurred images efface and fade. I cannot see your plain

White dress, bedecked with flowered fineries:Poppiesyellow, orange, with Death-dark centers. PleaseBelieve my loves dissolved, drowned in Falls grey rain.

Through dimming years Ill rarely, any moreView you in my imaginings. Your summer-tinted hair

Of golden tawn recedes. My lust cannot recallYour criminally-carnal figure, or

Your rose-flushed mouth. Romance lies in Deaths lair.In winters pall, I have forgotten all.


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26

08-80

Eternal Timber

The Cross is our crutch: we are lamed and maimed,Crippling sin in our soul,

Defiled and scourged, our faith defamed,Golgotha our gloried goal.

The Cross is a bludgeon for smiting downDeath in his sable gown.

Its Roman-hewn and Jesus-borne,

Encircled with blood-flecked thorn.

Evaporation

Im dreaming your face in the silvery dawn,An opaline image of white,

Evanescently faint, like a hand-painted saint,Piously pale in the light.

I worshipfully wait for the sharpening linesTo clarify features of you,

But planes in your face are dissolving in space,And another dull day starts anew.

08-03-82

Evening in Spring(He will be a rational man, but perhaps never happy.)

The April moon arrives

Melting us with its rays,But nothing long survives,Nothing of April days,

Nothing of Loves brief blaze.

The April moon departs.Misty with Spring-sad rain,

And we with false startsSuffer our moon-made pain,Lovers who kissed in vain.

03-14-79

Evensong

Steeple slashed with shadows


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27

Scales the twilit sky,Aspiring like an Angelus.

Below, the traffic hurtles byIndifferent to bricks upthrust so high.

~1971

Extrapolation

If my science sounds fictitious,Then Ill stick to ghosts and witches,Where theres much more evidence

(Such as photographs and documents!)

For its lunacy to write of tripsIn time-traversing magic ships,

Confronting Martians with green lipsResembling those in comic strips.

08-05-80 (rev. 11-15-90)

Faithful in His Fashion(1867-1900)

Ernest Dowson was a singer of the saddest, tritest tune,Of the fawning, futile love that poets blame upon the moon,

And his lyrics all were painted on the margin of the page,So his water-colored lines were barely noticed by his Age.

Wind-and-roses, and Cynara, floating lonesome in the airOf the foggy yellow Nineties, in a Soho restaurant where

An Italian fickle waitress cracked a poets dream, yet madeHis exquisite, fragile verses, faintly flower, not to fade.

07-01-72

Faithful in My Fashion(August 2, 1937) Lewisham Cemetery, SE London)

I dreamed I saw the grave of Ernest Dowson bleakly setIn some forgotten churchyard corner, lone and wet.

The spectral London fog descended cold on sentry grassWhere seldom any visitors or pilgrims deign to pass.

And in my reverie I bravely scattered roses there,And felt a frail and wispy Thank you warm the air.

02-17-70 (rev. 06-28-80)

Farewell, Lyrista


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28

The split in the walls of TimeWidens, and you walk through

Corridors, eons, newWhy cant I come with you?

Up towering heights you climbSeeking infinity

Far, in a sky-black seaLeft here on Earth is me.

And you hear the centuries chime,Caroling, one by one,

Tolling our times, now done:

Hope that is leftis none.

For now that youve vanished, ImPining in this bleak place,Dreaming about your faceLostuntracedin Space.

03-02-80

Farewell(2)

A million melting moons dripSilver down the sky,

And spatter lunar madness in your eye.Your brain becomes a moon-ship

Voyaging up highSo wave your Earth-bound sanity goodbye.

06-17-83

Fatal Orgy

Therere seasons for singing and seasons for sinning,Both of them can combine:

A feast for a glutton is only beginning,Naked slaves pour out the wine.

The eunuchs are dancing, the minstrels are playing,When the Black Stranger arrives,

But dukes are too drunk to hear all that hes saying,Pawing at dead peasants wives.

The crimson cloth curtains are suddenly rippingDown from the black Strangers blade,

And sobering lords are all stumbling and tripping,Grunting that theyre not afraid.


29/85


30/85

30

Fifty-Per Cent

He put ten years on her eyes in a single morning.He didnt do much to her except walk away.

He never raised a hand and he never raised too damned much money.But he left her fifty-per cent of his final pay.

Shes holding two jobs and shes holding her little heart togetherThe children make their own beds and breakfast, too.

The womens magazines provide adviceand coupons.And her Mama and her sister drop by, to see her through.

Theres no hard feelings, theyre the best of friends, still.Hes taking the children on Sunday afternoon.

Shes liberated from love, shes her own person.And no one sees her cry except the moon.

Shes taking two classes down at the local college,A book-keeping course and volleyball 101.

Shes twenty-eight, shes changed her hair, shes jogging!And her friends down at work say her life has just begun!

But you know, fifty-per cent of the American dreams get broken.One-half of the brides and grooms pay lawyers fees.

And fifty-per cent of the couples are coming uncoupled.But the precise percentage of tears nobody sees.

Finale

Our tragicomedy was curtained down,With her still laughing at my crucial lines,

Me tripping on her makeshift, tawdry gown,

Embroidered with a clowns, not queens designs.More months of bitter letters flowed betweenUs, linking us like losers to defeat.

And for an anti-climaxed, encore scene,We wore loves death-mask and its winding sheet.

We exited the stage apart, adrift,Our tattered, rolled-up script tossed in the aisle,

And blushed to think our mutual gaudy giftFor melodrama made the critics smile.We passed upon the street in early Fall:

It hurt not hurting any more at all.

1979

Finally


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31

Faded roses sadly flungGraves and ghosts and grue

From ancient balladry, now sungOne more time for you.

Fire Storm

Ancient city wallPinnacled so tall

Begins to crumble, crack and fallIn the shuddering, brute blast.

Soon the sidewalks shakeBuildings shift and break

Amid the Armageddon-quakeTill even Gods aghast.

08-23-80

Flame Future(for John D. Squires)

Gypsy tunes at any open fire,Faces form in the smoky spire,

Like ghosts of the Things-to Come,

Flames revealing your Yet-to-Be,Shimmering images, musically

In time with the mandolin strum.

~1985

Flower-Death

(for Christopher Lee, 1922- )

I.Castle of crimson is towered

High on the cliffs in mist,Where the reddening roses are flowered,

Clutched in the mountainsides fist.

The roses are red as the curtainHung in the dining room

Of the vampires. They drink, uncertain

Sensing incipient doom.

II.


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32

And then: a brave priest is victorious

Scaling the cliff alone;And the roses of blood, once glorious,Powder to grey like a bone.

Garlic and crosses and torchesBurn out the pestilence there

And peasants can see from their porchesRose-colored flames in a flare.

10-17-77

Fond Fright

Legends live:Witches give

Wicked, withered looksFrom old books.

Fairy rings,Devil wings;

Snuggle down so deep,Try to sleep.

Demons rangeForth from strange

Empty marble tombsToward your rooms.

Wake, and thrillSense the chill

Winds that gust your dreamsWake with screams!

03-07-73

Formula

The helmeted cavaliers halt,And notice a half-hidden vault,

Strangled with swamp grass and weeds,When suddenly, iron doors creak,And out rings an echoing shriekRiders dig spurs in their steeds,

Plunging through water and reeds.

They later inquire and learnThe vault holds an unhallowed urn

Full of vampires remains:


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33

The ashes are centuries old,Combining with fox-fire and mold

Moistened from overhead drains,Coming alive when it rains.

05-03-78

Four Kinds of Lonely

Therere four kinds of lonely, and I know them all,One of thems summer, and one of thems fall,

One of thems winter, and one of thems springTherere four kinds of lonely, to each one I sing.

In spring-time I think of that year when we met,In summer I think how you hadnt left yet,

In autumn I think how you left like the leaves,In winter I hear you when wind hits the eaves.

In spring-time I look at those flowers you grew,In summer I walk through the woods we once knew,

In autumn I miss you, and I always will,In winter I stand by your stone in the chill.

Freedom Was the Death of Me

We rode into Nacogdoches, with our pistols and our Bowie knives,Volunteers for Texaswe came to risk our lives.

Some of us had families, and others, just the memory,And some of us they didnt hardly miss in Kentucky and in Tennessee.

Some of us came for adventure, and others, we came for land;But at the Alamo down in San Anton we made our last stand.

Some called it glory and some called it greed, and some they called it Liberty.But mostly they called it the Lone Star Republicso Texas could be free.

But freedom was the death of me.

Colonel Bowie from Louisiana, with a big knife at his side,He got drunk most every day, but he was sober when he died.

Colonel Travis from Alabama, commander of the Alamo,He answered Santa Anna with a cannon shot, and he let the world know.

Colonel Crockett, he was laughingwith his men he held the wall.But the Mexicans, they overcame them, and you know they killed them all.

And the Mexicans kept coming, everyone of them was brave,But they turned the mission of the Alamo into a heroes grave.

Susannah Dickinson, a lady from TennesseeHer husband died across his cannon, but Santa Anna let her go free,


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34

With her little girl, she went free.

Santa Anna he grew carelessSam Houston he laid in waitDown on the San Jacinto River

Santa Anna met his fate.

Now the tourists load their cameras, in a San Anton motel,And they buy postcards and they suck on snow-cones, and they stand right

where I fell.

Some called it glory and some called it greed, and some they called it Liberty.But mostly they called it the Lone Star Republic, so Texas could be free.

And freedom was the death of me.

From a 23rd Century Text

The gates of Time yawned back,And let the Western seas attack,

Hurling tidal wavesThat turned the towns to graves.

Atlantis sank beforeAnd then the California shore

Settled out of viewBelow Pacific blue.

11-01-91Future Transportation

Levitation may be howIll journey over times and worlds away,

Safer than the highway nowI travel every day.

Maybe, too, my soul will soarEach night beyond the spheres of space,

Coming home again beforeThe dawn-light strikes my face.

10-01-78, (Rev.1983)

Garden Despoiled(In commemoration of Thomas Eliot, and Ezra Pound)

Now the purpled poems paleTo fading lavender:

The brilliant orchids that they wereDecline and droop and fail,

And ugly, un poetic weeds prevail.


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35

~1991

Garden Guard

Marigolds, the tint of molten sun,Battled with the aphid horde, and won,

Routing them with pungent, putrid stink,Beautiful to seenot smellI think.

06-27-78

Garden Guests

The sunflowers riseAgainst the skies,And eager elves

Clamber one-by-oneToward the smiling saffron sun

To tan themselves.04-08-79

Gardening

I pull up weeds and dig themOut by blade and hand,

Then gasoline for poisoningTo root them from my land.

The toughest, most resistantWeeds are colored black:

The choking dread within my head.I yank, but it grows back.

10-19-82

Genealogy

What I see in the glassI hope would pass:

Its an ancient old faceWith wig and lace.

Its a kinsman of mineMy fathers line

And hes checking in vain

My window-pane.

Was I him, long ago?Id rather not knowIf hes me, or if Im


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36

His twin, in Time.

04-29-79

George Sterling(1869-1926)

His verse was wrought to decorate,Embellish, glow, and shed the great

Immortal light of some far flagrant sunThat flares when Time itself is done.

1979

Gift Wrapped

Christmastime is package-time,Paper everywhere,

Ribbons, cards, and string, till ImAlmost bound to swear!

(Scotch tape in my hair).

12-25-68

Gone

Pastel people with water-color dreamsMelt with the wash of years,

Fading, dimming, their future blurs and streamsColoringdisappears.

09-22-80

Gossamer Love

Silver-limbed lady floats past in a dream,Body as soft as warm cream,And her voice like a mandolin.

Why does she visit me only in sleep?Why cant I capture and keepHer ethereal hair and skin?

Faint as a feather, shes blowing awayGone are those eyes of soft grey,Everlost, like her witch-girl grin.

01-11-79

Gothic Bliss(for John C. Moran)


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37

I love an antique taleWhere noble swordsmen never fail

To rescue ladies fairOr brave the dragons lair.

The creaking castle doorThe hidden stairway in the floor

They each enchantinglyExcite and shudder me.

Romantic terrors thus combineWith Beauty. Old, old wine

Of witchery and wondrous dread

Otrantos turrets in my head.

Green Bride

Green Knight arrives at the gate,Up slips the wrought-iron grate,

Draw-bridge is down,Inside the Princess will wait

In her green gown.

Green Knight dismounting inside,Princess will soon be his bride

Veiled in grey-green laceCovering her since she died:

Lichen moss blotching her face.

06-23-76

Grey Skater(for Gordon Lizmer)

Over the ageless iceThe Grey Skater glidesAnd spins as he slides,

Rounding the lake-side twice.

Notice his skull-grey faceHalf-masked by his coatThat collars his throat

Ice skates that leave no trace.

Grey as a graveyard stone,He skates in your dreamsOn frozen grey streams,

Circling youstark and lone.1967


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38

Grimoire

A demon leaps up from the pages,Long agesWaiting for his invitation:

Your invocation.

Too late you slam shut both the covers;He hovers

Giving you gold in a barter:Your souls the martyr.

07-18-77

Growth

My jealousy was crushing;A friend has shouldered past,

And seized my prize by rushingPast mestealthy and quite fast.

But jealousy can rust you,Corroding your inside;

I shrug it off and trust newFriends, and quell my pride.

1981

Gustave Dore(1832-1883)

His fancy chose to dwellOn Paradise and Hell,Scribing them in stark

Engravings bright yet drear,Admixing faith with fear,The light opposing dark.

His angels shimmer whiteWith efflorescent lightHaloing strange skies.

Below, repulsive, squirmThe dragon and the worm,

Of undulant gross size.

02-15-75

H. P. Lovecraft(1890-1937)


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39

Restoring far-off times,With stilted, Georgian rhymes,

He tried repealing FateTwo centuries too late.

And when he saw the worthOf poems dead at birth,

He turned his pen to writeStrange fantasies at night.

Then when the morning came,He signed his unknown name.To one more priceless page

Forgotten by his Age.

Forgotten, all exceptFor friends who paid their debt

By publishing him tillHis fame no Fate can kill.

08-73

H. P. Lovercraft: Friend Out of Time(1890-1937)

What need to add one moreTribute to the roar

Of shrill posthumous praise,Nostalgic, loud in these latter days?

Its all been said and said:Paeans, now hes dead;But like so many, Ive

Wished Id known him live.

01-01-80Hadrians Wall, Revisited

Grim stones still undulate across green land,Mute monuments to legends passing on

Imperial Roman eagles, rusted, goneBefore barbarians, slaying with a hairy hand.

Squat painted savages rose in a bandAgainst the sentries on the fortressed wall

Toppled standards, banners, each to fall

Forever. Caesars empire could not withstand.

There looms another siege-wracked wall today:Poets standing guardwith bureaucrats below

Whose sharpened pencils for their sanguine spears.


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40

The ladders risedefenders join the frayAs boiling oil is spilled in scalding flow

But walls are breached. Poets pierced. No one hears.

11-25-82

Haiku for James Dean:Paso Robles, CA, 09-30-55

Youth and broken glassSmearing Highway 101:

Other cars just pass.

09-16-70

Halo

The hair on my daughters head asleepIs precious as bullion, treasured deep,

A golden reminder and proof that IAccomplished a little before I die.

06-29-82

Harbingers

Echoes of Spring from the streets,Laughter and shouting greets

My ear, in a jubilant noise:Raucous, wild neighbor boys.

02-27-70

Harvest Moon Rite

Enchantment is sown in the early Spring.Planted by poets who till and sing,

While later they water the crops with tears,Wept with the pang of years.

Their fantasies rise like ripened yield,Bountiful, filling the field,

So sowers of wonder return and reapMagic, to glean and keep.


41/85

41

1969

Haunted Heritage(for Mike Ashley)

Primeval campfire bards intone their taleOf fairyland, where human beings dare not stray

A nether-realm of water-sprite and fay,Evoked by incantations and the banshees wail,

From out of ancient balladry, Mans myths prevail,As legends from a far-gone pagan day

Evolve, and make their immemorial way

Down centuries. Old ghosts, old magic, cannot fail.

They live as fiction on the printed page,To thrill a reader on a winters night

In some Victorian book, shelved by the bed.Such phantoms mock our glib, computer age,

Where even Science cannot point the lightTo drive the cosmic specters from our head.

He Stopped Song Writing Today

He said Ill song-write till I die.They said Youll wise up in time.

But as the decades drifted byHis mind was filled with rhyme.

He kept his demos by the bed,Back to 1972,

And the shit the publishers said,Hed underline in blue.

Willie Nelsons picture on the wall.He went half crazy now and then;And his best friend, Alcohol,It helped him guide his pen.

I went to see him just today.First time Id seen him in years;

Hed finally passed awayFrom fifteen thousand beers.

He stopped songwriting today.

They placed him on the funeral pyre.And they threw his demos in,

And the flames grew higher and higher.

The publishers came by to see him one last time,


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42

Just the way I knew they would,They clapped their hands and clicked their heels

This time theyre through with him for good

Heard! Heard! Heard

The madness of the maiden is absolute,She hears the voices no one else could know,

The ancient howling harbingers of who will stay and who will goThe voices tell the maddened maiden so.

The virtue of the maiden, it is absolute-

She sleeps alone on cold, unloving sheets,A man becomes her suitorthen in diffidence retreats,

And leaves her with her voices and defeats.

The sorrow of the maiden, it is absolute:For still the voices ring within her ear;

She hears a whispered name of one who dies this very yearThe nameher ownreiterates too clear.

Helper

Baby scuttles down the floor,Like a crab ashore,

Room-to-room, upon my heels,Like a pig, she squeals.

06-26-78

Here Come the Cowboys

Now one year its this, and the next year its that,And this is the year for the ten-gallon hat,

They wear them in Dallas, they wear them in Spain,They wear them in London to keep off the rain.

Some cowboys punch cattle and some punch time-clocks,And some punch the buttons upon the juke-box,Theres cowboys in offices, cowboys in schools,

And cowboys whose saddle is just a bar stool.

Here come the cowboys, theyre walkin and talkin real slow.Here come the cowboys, just like a movie show

And its a western.

Some cowboys are riding the dreams in their heads,


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43

With posters of rodeos hung by their beds,And some think theyre cowboys when they pick guitar,

In Texas or Tokyo. Thats where they are.

03-05-81

Heredity

The family album from times agoHas faces I never knew,

Exceptfor a tint-type I feel I know

From eighteen fifty-two

The mouth is like mine and eyes as wellOur cheekbones are high--the same;But he was reputed to pact with Hell,

And shamed our honored name.

And I shrink at the mention of sorcery(The Devils work on Earth!),But whisperings in our family

Have shadowed me since birth.

~1973Heritage

In my secret heart Ive feltLike a blood-crazed Celt,Scottish, Irish, either one,

Killing Britons with my gun.

Or with broadsword or with knife,

Dirk, or dagger, taking lifeIn an Ulster alleyway,Or Culloden Moor that day.

Smoke and blood on heather grass,Celtic reverie must pass,

Like a distant, dimming dreamDrowning in a dank, swift stream.

04-27-75

Hester Prynne

The whiteness of her virtueBleeds red with scarlet sin;

Her crimson cheeks alert you


44/85

44

To guilt concealed within.Like sapphires set in ivory,

Or roses wet with snow,Once-pallid flesh turns fiery:Her shame for all to know.

10-21-92

Holocaust Foreseen

Mediaeval alchemist divinedAtomic secrets of the cataclysmic kind,

But veiled them under symbols so

That only Adepts of the Quest would know.Those alchemists were cautious men

They sensed potential Armageddon, even then.

10-13-81

Homage

Fairies under toadstool tables,Unicorns in forest stables,

Beckon meChild-believer in a fables

Fantasy.

Down along the haunted riverWaving willows sway and quiver

As I passAnd the Sprite Queen makes me give her

Wreathes of grass.

07-26-76

How Do I Sign This Christmas Card?

How do I sign this Christmas card?Is it from me and you?

Do we let everybody knowThis time were really through?

Your leaving caught me off my guard,How do I sign this Christmas card?How do I sign this Christmas card?

I hate to forge your name,I hate to let our people learn

This year were not the same.


45/85

45

If You Would Be Heard

Pain is much too personal for verse.Dont curseThe reader with your anger-anguished words:

Rhyme flowers, sun and birds.

1966

Illiteracy

Children never learn todayWhere the meadow-fairies play,

Where the elves bask in the sunWhere their inch-high horses run.

11-02-91

Immersion(to narrate Boks Leaping Man)

Beyondthe minarets and phallic spires uprise,Abovethe craggy cliff and silent skies,And far below, the blue-black, quiet bayWelcomes one mad plunging man today.

Immortal!

Marble vault draped with snow,Grave-winds whimper and blowTomb-dust up from the stones

Walling the crypt of bones.

I am the last in line,One more coffin-spacemine!

Yes, mine. But Ill never die.Not while a bat can fly!

09-17-76 (rev. 1982)

Immortal Bouquet

The withered arm of Time has plucked the blooms

That crowned the brow of Love and rent the ringOf roses round Loves head. Decay consumesThe petals. Powdered grey flecks everything.

Thus shorn of blossoms, Loves skull drawsIts scalp in wrinkles that retract


46/85


47/85

47

Of timber from logs where her cabin once stood.But the structure is gone from the Little Pigeon River,

Its remnants embedded in a mansion in Brentwood.

You hearken for echoes on the hollowed old speakerAt Studio B where the tourists now gape,

Where JoshuaJoleneand the poor, sinful SeekerWere captured by Porter on RCA tape.

You pause at the quick-mart for a tabloid injectionJust how many wigs can one woman own?

And how many escapades dodge our detection?Three-fourths of her story will never be known.

07-13-91

Its a Nineteen-Twenties Song

Its a Nineteen-Twenties tuneforgive me, I was born too soon,Going to fake it anyway, and bring back yesterday.

Inkadinkado, that old soft shoeand I danced with Georgia Brown.Muskrat ragcan you spare me a fag?

And the stock market came dow-w-w-w-w-w-n!Its A Nineteen-Twenties song, the decade didnt last too long,Nineteen-Thirties knocked it flat, like a Babe Ruth baseball bat.

Black-face minstrel on a white mans stage,Girl smoking cigarettes, its all the rage

And New York made that music move.Bath-tub gin in your coffee cup

Home-town girl acting so grown upThose East Coast boys, her Mama wont approve!

Scott Fitzgerald and his wayward wife,

She danced on the tables while he drank up his lifeAnd only Billy Sunday told the truth:They corrupted the nations youth!

Its a Nineteen-Twenties danceIf you missed it once, heres another chance.

Charleston, if you canHoney, swing that man.

Its a Nineteen-Twenties beat,Hotel ball-room, move your feet.

Flapper with the short, short hairYoung folks, I declare!

Sweet, sweet Sue making eyes at youand a gangster named Capone.Razzamatazz, and that Dixie jazzand that famous slide trombone


48/85

48

Its a Nineteen-Twenties dream---make that sweet nostalgia gleam,

Press your ear to the radioWill Rogers says Hello!

Its Never Too Late for Love(for Anne)

Its never too late for love, no, its never too late for love,Its never too, never too, never too late for love.

Everybody says Slow down, dont you know what time its getting to be?I dont watch the clock, I just look in my heart, and its time for you and me,

Stop! Wait a minuteits time for a time checkIts half-past getting to know you, and its a quarter-to-a midnight kiss!

Daylight savings time, getting close to you, on a long winters night.Youre always in season, baby, Im writing your name on every calendar page,

as brown hair turns to white

1986

Jesse, Im Coming to Know You

Jesse, Im coming to know you,Better than ever before.

Danger and trouble are leaving our livesChildren are crawling the floor.

Jesse, Im coming to know you,Youre drawing closer to me.

Finding a future and finding a farmThank God, we found Tennessee!

Sometimes at night when Im sleeping,Nightmares, they enter my head.Hear people shooting and dying

Wake upso safe in our bed.

Jesse, Im coming to know you,Even though weve changed our names.Worth it to find a new life full of peace

Theyll never catch Jesse James.

Not while youre holding me

In Tennessee

Judy Garland Rainbow


49/85

49

Go find yourself a Judy Garland rainbow,Shut your eyes and see it, oh, so clear.

It draws you like a beacon, and it guides you like a star, so far from here.

Keep searching for that Judy Garland Rainbow,People say youre foolish and nave.

You walk that road of yellow bricks with confidence because you do believe.And its magic, yes, its magic, and oh, so pretty.

Youre reaching, yes, youre reaching that Emerald City.And when you find that Judy Garland rainbow,

Help somebody else to make it through,The Scarecrow and Tin Woodman know the secret, and I know theyll share it

too.

Jungian Serendipity

The telephone rings and the voice you hearRepeats the thought in your brain:Just synchronicity, loud and clear,Links you on some esoteric plane.

Its not telepathy, mind-to-mind,But incalculably doubtful odds,

Defying coincidence, like a blindToss of the dice by the gambling gods.

1992

Kensington Gardens

The sun in London used to shineAbove the placid Serpentine

Lost summers all too long ago,

And I recall as best I canThe statue of fey Peter PanIn sunlights glint and glow

(Winters, Peter Pan wore snow.)

03-21-80

Klarkash-ton(for Clark Ashton Smith, 1893-1961)

Smith carved words with care,

Setting them like rareJewels in a crown,

Molded from old gold,Brilliant and cold,

And worn with purple gown.


50/85

50

Words of rich romance,Atlantean chants,Mystery and myth,

Epic tales and verseDecadent, perverse

Proud pageantry of Smith.

Ever out-of-place,Smith preferred far space

Galaxies away,Lost in starry lore,

Helping him ignoreThe din from his own day.

09-22-74

Knowledge

Children know so much, today:Where the fairy folk do play,

Where the elves dance in the sun,Where their inch-high horses run.

12-28-78

Lamp Love

I rubbed on my lamp with three strokes,Eliciting vaporous smokes;

A lady appeared in the hazeIn robes of red glimmering rays,

Pressing upon me a kiss

And with me she loyally stays:Mystical, marital bliss.

05-16-77

Last Supper

The vampires are thirsty, the ghouls want to eat,Season of famine and drought,

No more red-veined virgins, no graveyards of meat,Food and drink, have all run out.

The priests have placed crosses on every girls breast,The tombs are all guarded at night,

So vampires and ghouls must take second best:They lunge at each other, and bite.


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52

Nuclear blast. What a show!Hey-dee-dee, ha-ha, ho!

12-25-82

Life is A Western Movie

They say life is like a sit-com,Honeymooners reruns play on down the years;

They say life is like a soap operaYou wash your dishes and then you dry your tears.

They say life is like a cop show

Big blue light follows you in close pursuit;They say life is like a game show

You win a set of luggage from the man in the shiny suit.

But I say life is a Western movie,On the Chisholm Trail you ride through the wind and rain;

Life is a Western movie,Cause every now and then youve got to face that high noon train.

Yes, life is a Western movie,In the California gold rush you just might get rich;

Or down in Texas they might run off all your cattle,So you might form a posse and string up the son-of-a-gun.

I tell you, life is a Western movie,Cowgirls watch you when you make that rodeo ride;

But all you really need is one good cowgirlTo stand beside till you cross that Great Divide.

But I say life is a Western movie,On the Chisholm Trail you ride through the wind and rain,

Life is Western movie,

Cause every now and then youve got to face that high noon train,And ride off in the distance just like ShaneJust like Shane.

Literature Class

Poetry writes youIf its any good,

And leaves you when its through,Numb and dumb as wood.

Poetry kicks whereYou are soft and weak,

And yanks you by the hair,Laughs to hear you shriek.


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55

Now the books are all I keep,All that I can use.

Dreaming of her for a year,Maybe even more!

(Not Marian, but dearLondonmy sweet whore)

09-16-70

Love Snare

Time is a ribbon of silver thread

Spun by the spider, Space,Cob-webbing Mans bewildered face,

Snarling his dense, doomed head.

Love is the only sure weapon ManWields against the net

Time has oozed and stuck and set,Sword it as best you can.

03-77

Luray

Water seeping through the ground,Forming limestone, timeless round

Pillars on the ceilings, orColumns on the cavern floor.

There, where bats escape the sun,Nature carves, till Time is done,

Castles in Virginia caves,

Like Egyptian, carved-stone graves.

07-22-78

Mail Call

Ten thousand years at seaIn a star-ships dome

I sail the galaxy,I scribble letters home.

And fifty thousand yearsPass before I learn

Earth-folks loyal tearsWeep for my return.


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56

12-01-78

Magic Bullet

When I was young I had a Western hero,Shooting magic bullets with his gun,With his faithful Indian companion,

He rode off into the setting sun.

When I grew up I gave up magic bullets,Threw my cowboy boots and guns away,And now I dont believe in magic bullets.

Hi-Ho, Silver, goodbye, yesterday.

In Dallas, Texas they shot magic bullets,Seven wounds, two bodies at one time,

Of course, they found themselves a lone assassin,Magic bullets helped explain the crime.

I wonder whos behind those magic bullets,Every witness dies or disappears,

I wonder if my taxes bought those bullets,We just might find out in fifty years.

1976

Marys Song

Above the sunken lake of Galilee,Lay isolated disdained Nazareth,

Where misted in obscurityWas Mary born. Her kin Elizabeth

Gave John the Baptist birth. But Mary wrought

The Motherhood of ages: Jesus, SonOf Man, Whose prophesied arrival broughtAstrologers and shepherds one by oneTo marvel. Mary, in a squalid cave

In Bethlehem nursed Infant Child with care.The Savior Whose death forgave

Our primal sin too weightisome to bear.

To celebrate that first far Christmastime,Let carillons of joy inside us chime.

1984May-Eve

Little Laurie cannot sleep,Only eight years old;


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57

Moonlights making Laurie creepOut into the cold.

Dancing dizzy on the heathRound the standing stone,

Lauries sweating underneathNecklaces of bone.

Then before the morning breaksBurning overhead,

And her family wakesLauries home to bed.

06-01-70

Melindas Mask

The mask you wearOf clay and hair

Is fleshy colored pink:A painted smile and steady stare

Of eyes that never blink.

And under itAn inky pit

Of infinite sad space.Melinda, tell me how you fit

Your mask, where youve no face?

04-10-70

Melindas Face

Gentle kissing cant erase

The rumble of the quietViolence that rocks your face,Erupting in a riot.

Revealing feelings cannot beA very easy task;

My poor Melinda, now I seeWhy you once wore a mask.

12-25-73

Myopia Cured

I must concede, I must confessMy wisdoms from unhappiness:


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58

The insight of the salty tearStings my cloudy vision clear.

02-06-82

Natural History

Are faeries really there?And will they pull your hair

When you walk near?

Indeed they really will,Theyll trip you-make you spill-

Then give a cheerAnd disappear.

04-08-79

Natural History

Are faeries really there?And will they pull your hair

When you walk near?

Indeed they really will,Theyll trip you-make you spill-

Then give a cheerAnd disappear.

04-08-79

Nautical Galactic(For Columbus and Armstrong)

Old sailors pine for salt and spars,New vessels sliding down the slips,

Valiant skippers holding by the helms.

Young sailors dream of reaching stars,Midshipmen berthed in rocket shipsTrajected far to planetary realms.

09-28-91

Necrobibilia

No one dares lookIn the dark book


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59

Bound in the old witchs skinFlayed while she screamed:

She never dreamedLeather would pay for her sin.

No one will buy, No one will tryRarest edition of all:

It sits for sale, blood-drained and paleDown at the street-vendors stall.

Book-hunters walkBy it, and balk

Backing away with a gasp!

So it sits there,Hand-sewn with hair,

Latched with a carved-metal hasp.

01-77

Nostalgia

Sorcerer wearies of castingSpells that nobody can feel,

Ghouls are impatient with fasting,Death-knells no longer will peal.

Churchyard is grown up with wild weeds,Marble tombs settle and crack,

Will-o-wisp dies in the marsh reeds,Leprechauns never come back.

Vampires without an oasis,Banshees with nothing to moan,

Ghosts who cant find where their place is,

Skeletons, grave-less, alone.

09-22-77

Nuclear Aqua-Archaeology

The map was inscribed upon a scroll.It marked where the land fell under.

The floor of the sea became my goal,Submerged Atlantis unplumbed wonder.

Past stones sunk in sand, grown green with slime,I swam through remaining arches standing,

Aghast, to discern, from ancient timeAn algae-crusted airstrip landing.


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60

Metallic devices were moored in place,

Cylinders balanced steady,With barnacles clinging upon their face,Otherwise aimed and ready.

The rustless contraptions were set to spring,I noticed a coral-coated lever

Still cocked like a cannon, set to zing--I pulled itreleased the lethal thingThe missile smashed half of Denver!

07-08-85 (rev. 09-28-90)

Old Maid

Glissandra spins gossamer netsOf sticky white webbing that gets

Her all the captives she needs:Her spider-string oozes like sap,The unicorns step in her trap

Soon they will serve as her steeds.

Glissandra rides out from her lair,The wind singing tunes in her hair,

Unicorn under her thighs;With spider-web stirrups and reins,Glissandra rides hillside and plains

Under the thunder-split skies.

She gallops the high road to town,But gates in the walls clatter down,

Sentries with crossbows appearTurn back, pretty rider, turn back

The sentinel cries through the black:Darts whistle close to her ear.

Glissandra returns to her nest,Resuming what she knows the best,Weaving her websher lifes chore!But sometimes she pines for the life

Of being some villagers wife

No one wants heras before!

05-31-78

On Learning of a Third Claimant to the Throne of Redonda


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61

Redondas mystery abides,

Luring soul toward soulAcross Atlantics calms and tides,Questing for the goal.

But all is mist. Redonda hides,Its truth inscrutable upon its royal scroll.

1982

On Rewriting a Song

The chorus isnt right,Its crowded up too tight,And what is far, far worse,

It hardly seems to fit the verse.

Rewrite it one more time,And change that trite, trite line,

And simplify the tune.(That minor chord came all too soon.)

09-78

On Unloving A. E. Housman(1859-1939)

Housman piped a pure sad noteBlue as misted hills,

But the perfect poetry he wroteNo longer lifts and thrills.

Why, he would have understoodYouth decays at last,

Verse tastes bad that once was good,Bitter like years past.

~1979

Ounce of Prevention

The lady robot doesnt take

Her birth controlling pill,She knows it could be one mistake

Untested drugs can kill.

She doesnt want a deformed child,


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63

And throbbing sighs, that couldnt really last:In someone elses eyes her ghost danced there,

Reminding me of grief ahead, not past,As winter worsened and I learned to writeMy first bad poems, full of self-hurt spite.

05-21-76 (rev. 06-16-90)

Poetaster Manifesto

Irreverence to us is All-Sacred,Light lampoons, devoid of real hatred,

Our metrical crime

Is limerick rhyme:Were strippin the stuffed-shirts bare naked.

Poetry Collection

Ive bartered up my youth for books.And now my future looks

Like one long glassed-in, book-lined shelf:Fairy poems. rhymes-of-elf,

And dragon runesand songs-of-self.

Prehistoric Precision

Stonehenge wrought of bluestoneEach massive megalith

Positioned by shamans (date unknown)For timing the heavens with.Cheops awesome pyramidAligned with compass care,

Demarking distance, map-like grid,

Emplaced, finitely, there.Star-clocks and calendars,Astronomic gauges,

Immortal instruments, sighting stars,For scientists and mages.

03-03-92Preview

I peer through mists of coming years,The present disappears,

The crimson clouds of war blow pastUtopiaworld peace at last.

No famine, plagues or hunger then,World law among all men,


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64

Complete coerced security,The subtlest sort of slavery.

07-05-78

Priority

We need another planet now,A star to store our waste,

A far-off, floating garbage-scow:So find one, with all haste.

11-29-1978 (Rev. 01-23-1990)

Processional

Imperial centuries march by,Purple canopies, and gold

Enameled chairs that slaves lift highPass before me. Pompous. Bold.

Immortal Time himself rides past,Borne along in grand parade,

A monarch from the first to lastSkeleton in gilt brocade.

Time, the cruelest cavalcade.

03-16-82

Proud Princess

A cloud of white fluffShe floats like a puff

Extending a tailWide as a sail:Arrogant, fatAngora cat.

06-02-78

Questionnaire(For L. Sprague de Camp)


65/85

65

How do mermaids mate?

No one seems to know:In their naked stateNothing seems to show.

Who needs unicorns?Arent they obsolete?With their silly horns,

Keep them off the street.

How to vampires breed?Is it by the bite?

Does it make them bleed?Why dont they like the light?

How can witches fly?Is it by sheer will?

Why dont zombies die?Why do curses kill?

Where are all the ghouls?Who sent them away?

Dont they know the rules?Picnic-time today.

Why do ghosts return?Why to dreams foretell?

And Id like to learn,Wheres the wishing well?

05-30-77

Realism

I only rhyme things I can see,Facts irrefutably true

Like the elves in the shade of a lollipop tree,And fairies of green and blue.

To civilization Im blind:Cities and factory smoke

Are scenarios out of a lunatics mind,And progress and peace the last joke.

02-10-82


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66

Red Arrows(For Mary Kangas)

The feudal lords are at our doorTo tell us what our land is for,

And how to plan and lead our lives:Ancient tyranny arrives.

We peasants know it is no joke,Our farms and fields inside a yoke

That chains and collars men born free:Vassals of a barony.

And so we serfs will soon ariseAnd give the nobles a surprise,

And shrug off shackles binding tight,Loading crossbows for the fight.

11-24-74

Reflex

Holstered magnum gun:To use or not to use?

Choices, choiceschoose!Hope its the right one

06-19-78

Regicide

We harvested so many grapes each day,Our hands and lips were purpled, stainedThe shade of royalty: kings gone away

To die with queens, till rust remainedOf each tarnished throne and crumpled gown.Inside her bed at night she floated far from me,

And like a knight that tugs a queens great gown,I knew my enemy was brute Eternity,

That crushes kingdoms made of stone or dreams.She often mentioned autumnback at school,

Her words like shears, slicing well-stitched seamsUpon the royal tapestry, a cruel

And fitting ending to the fading myth,Once woven lovingly, now scissored with!

04-24-76

Regret


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68

Little doll, who smiles in glee,Sitting up where she can see

Over the curio shop,Take her home and presentlyYour heart will seize and stop.

Stopped by the Romany curse,Placed by the old gypsy nurse,Under the hand-painted smile;

Keep your coins inside your purseThe doll can sit unsold awhile.

05-13-77

Rude Road

The grinding wheel of Duty turns,The axle bears the friction, burnsBeneath the burden of the load,And spills the cargo in the road.

But then you wrest it from the mudBack on the wagon flat-bedthud!

Repair the axle from a tree,Resuming Dutys destiny.

07-17-76

Running After Ruby

Running after Ruby, from Seattle to Los Angeles and back,Following a trail of rumors and tears she left for me to track.Running after Ruby, trying hard to put together every clue,

Finally I reached the wise conclusion maybe she and I are through.

Found her trail in Frisco in an alley where I almost lost my life,Found a man who knew her, who was interested in showing me his knife,

Running after Ruby is an exercise I dont believe I need,Rubys like a cancer looking for another that she can bleed.

Running after Ruby in Tijuana getting close to Hell or worse,Getting drunk and getting scared I would cross the border in a hearse,

Ran into some bandits and I handed them my wallet and my belt,Swam across to Texas and I told the border guard the way I felt.

I was optimistic when they let me out of jail in San Anton,Headed back to Oregon where the people tend to leave a man alone,

Running into Ruby on the sidewalk, but I quickly passed her by,Rubys running after me, I guess Im fool enough to let her try.


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70

Id like to hear, were you happy without me?Santa Fe turquoise makes you look unreal,

Santa Fe turquoise has much to conceal.

10-21-76

Scent in the Air(for Julia Eng)

Hummingbird and hungry bee,Sharing in the free

Honeysuckle growing sweetFragrant summer treat.

05-22-80

Seer(In memory: August Derleth, 1909-1971)

Nature knows, and Man does notSecrets that the sky has got,

Secrets that the old tree knows,Tales in every wind that blows,Concealeduntil some poet tells

The message that Creation spells.

04-03-79

She Never Got Back From Frisco

She had cable cars in her brain,And she said she loved the rain,

She had Golden Gate horizons in her eyes.She said she had to get away

To that city by the BayFor a vacation under California skies.

And now shes come back home,But I feel her memories roam

She hung a San Francisco poster on our wall.Now I work hard every week,

But late at night I hear her speakIn a whisper on a long-distance call.

She never got back from Frisco, she never got back from Frisco,

When I kiss her shes two thousand miles from me;She never got back from Frisco, she never got back from Frisco,

She makes believe her minds in Tennessee.

Now I feel I dont belong


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71

When she plays her favorite songyou guessed itTony Bennett, from so many years ago.

And how I hate to seeThose old movies on T.VClint Eastwoodand Bogartand San Francisco!

I lost my wife to San Franciscohigh on a hillshe cheated me!

Shelley

(The Birth of Science Fiction)

I.Young Shelley at Eton imbibed the mystique

Of science romanticized into extremes:He gave his poor tutor a shock and a shriek

Electric jolt!eliciting screams.

II.Explosives and fire-balloons were his joy,Chemicals tainting his fingers and arms,

Steam engine blew-up(another mere toy).Mad Shelley continually causing alarms

III.His tutor named Walker is wholly forgot

Blueprint for someone whose name weve all readFrankensteins prototype, likely as not,

Mixed up with Shelley in wife Marys head.

9-23-91

Shhh!

The purple giraffeMakes children laugh,

But dont laugh too loud,Its not allowed,

You might wake your folksWith purple creature jokes.

07-15-78

Sing a Song of Roses

Came from California, looking for a place to fall:Portlands good as anywhere, and now its best of all;


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72

Learned to love the roses, and the rivers full of rain;California drove me north, and Portland drove me sane.

Leaving all my memories back behind where they belong,Sang a song of roses, and I let it make me strong,Lifting up my life inside my hands to make it growTall as any mountain rising mighty in the snow.

Sing a song of roses,Dreams of me and you,Portland love encloses

Dreams of me and you,Sing a song of roses.

Gentle people welcoming you, with an open hand,Mighty people not afraid to fight to keep their land;

City on the river floating ships from overseas;People soft as roses, people tough as Oregon trees.

Been a long time coming, but Im here to rest awhile,Never mind the highway, never mind the weary mile;

You and me and roses, and the salmon in the streams;Cant believe were thriving, Portland rain has washed our dreams.

11-11-74

So Do Unicorns

Even dragons dreamThirsting for the gleam

Of a maidens green, green eye,Preferably with some

Brave fool knight wholl comeTrying to save her, or else die;

St. George, St. George, the warriors cry.

Dragons need the thrillOf a knights fierce skill,

Thrusting lance, and flashing spur;Otherwise, how dull,

Munching on the skullOf some luckless traveler:

Dragons dream of days that were.

01-24-77

Soldier and Civilian(1842-1913?)

Cloaked in a Civil War Cape


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73

Swaggered the fierceAnd fearless and cavalier shape:

Proud Ambrose Bierce.

Editor, author and wit,Bierce had the zest

And courage and cunning to fitWell in the West.

Then when his days dwindled lean,Bierce rode away;

Old Mexico swallowed him clean,Gulping her prey.

Cynics like him are the lastMen to seek fame,

So bitterness out of the pastStill dims his name.

10-19-73

Song of the Stellar Assassins

Can you hear the blades revolvingWithin the crystal sphere?

Hear them descendrotate and rendYour scalp and half your ear!

Can you hear the pilots chorusTheir extra-earthly tongue?

A stately hymnyour requiemThe space-sprites now have sung.

02-25-93

Souvenir

I sail on a sea of crystal dream,Far from Realitys shore,

And notice a phosphorescent gleamLighting the ocean floor.

The towers of deep Atlantis shineUnderneath water and moon,

And mermaids above form a chorus line

Crooning a siren tune.

Escaping their lure I set my sailHeading for home instead,

And wake up to find a mermaid scale


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74

Dripping, beside my bed.01-18-82

Spelunkers Cave

The icicle cave is deep;Down in the caverns creep

The hideous dwarfs from the Frost-Queens court:Ice-elves, so malign and short.

Explorers quest for the QueenNever is she even seen

As long as the gnomes she dispatches blockClimbers with ice and rock.

03-08-79 (rev. 09-11-90)

Squirt!

Plant of purple spewsGrape-colored gas in space,Painting the rocket ship crew

Mauve, as they pass that place.

09-28-78

Stilled Voice(for John Gawsworth, 1921-1970)

Poetry is easy, life is hard,And so the bravest bard

Begins to buckle with the weight of brutal yearsHis singing disappears.

1981

Storybooks and Treasure Maps

The kings and their crusaders are forgotten,No one reads about them anymore,

The flowers that the princess held are rotten,Crushed beneath her slipper on the floor.

The chivalry of knights-in-armors ended,Fading like a fable into Time,

The castles and the walls are undefended,Empty like an ancient nursery rhyme.

Lets you and I be brave, and not surrender,Keep those dreams of yesterday we knew,


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75

The grown-ups better listen and remember:Storybooks and treasure maps are true.

The dragons and the demons all are sleeping,Cinderellas hair is turning grey,

The witches and the wizards now are weeping,Pining for those years of yesterday.

So you and I must stand against tomorrow,Fighting off the fear of growing old,

And dreams arent something you can steal or borrow,You cant beg them back once theyve been sold.

08-29-72

Striking Out

The color of lemonade washing the skyPopsicle memories revive

Of baseball connecting with ash wood, hit highIn an arcing, outfield drive.

Are summers forever? Or only a day?Moth-eaten , major-league hat

Decembers the umpire, miscalling the play,And theres ice on my Louisville bat.

03-09-85

Sweet Sanguinora

How many hundred yearsShes lived, I cannot say;

Shes mine today

And all my caution disappears.

Hungarian heritageIve heard her mention, yes;

Her loveliness(Inherited) knows no age.

Her kisses make us one,(My sweet ensanguined wife)

Immortal lifeIs ours!if we but shun the sun.

04-10-80

The Battle of Northfields Begun


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76

Somebody special just rode into Northfield,Somebody famous and bold,

Long linen dusters concealing their pistols,Theyve come to steal all our gold.

James boys and Youngers, theyre up from Missouri,Riding so slow into town,

Mighty warm welcome in South Minnesota,Were going to cut that gang down.

Peace-loving farmers, were New England Yankees,Swedes and Norwegians here too.

Weve got a college and weve got some churches,

Weve got a bank, yes we do.

Up to the windows and ready your rifles,The Battle of Northfields begun!

Blasting those bandits right out of their saddles,Dropping them dead in the sun,

The Battle of Northfields begun,

Mister Gustavson, he couldnt speak English,He didnt do what they said,

After they killed him they murdered another:Bank-teller shot in the head.

Out in the street, now were using our shotguns,This time weve evened the score.

Couple of outlaws stretched out on the sidewalk:They wont rob banks anymore.

Well put Cole Younger in Stillwater Prison,Twenty-five years in a cell.

Time to think over September the seventh,

Northfield turned into hell.

Up to the windows and ready your rifles,The Battle of Northfields begun!

Blasting those bandits right out of their saddles,Dropping them dead in the sun.

The Battle of Northfields begun!

The Death of August Derleth: July 4, 1971

(for Richard Fawcett)

The summer air hangs still.Hawk and whippoorwill

Wing mournful down the graying skies


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77

Hearken to their cries!

Documents

Storybooks and Treasure Maps