posted
OK, Tom Davidson and all other criticisers, I am sorry for being a BoneHead (I want a registered trademark), but here's my Big Little Book of Poetry (orig: "The Big Little Book of Irish Wisdom"):
The Dream
'Twas down the street one gloomy night, A lovely chill of air; When near my eyes I saw some sight, Right then I was aware.
A seabird swooped (I can’t deny) Above my head (so fair!), And as I gazed right through the sky, Astonished I was there.
I stared up into holy bounds; Its gates were opened (high): A land of havens, safe and sound, Tucked just behind the sky.
Just out of holy scripts and books, A scene so fresh and clear; I could not shake off it my looks, And thought: “it's near - it's here.”
Before my eyes lay an array Of clouds blue and maroon, And through that bright night shot a ray, Right from the hidden moon.
And those deep clouds of darkened tones, Were dark as night could be; Like silhouettes of heavy drones Cast down upon the quay.
Out of a grand gap through the clouds, The white light boldly shone; Just spinning skies’-stuff and some shrouds, Thus forming Luna’s throne.
As in John's dream, that lovely beam, Revived grey, dim with lime; And staring at that vivid stream Of light – moved me in time.
A dream I saw, so pure and raw, A holy, real truth; And Spirits holy [Christ!] I saw, My soul itself was soothed.
Napoleon and Cassius, Old kings and senators, Mark Antony and Julius, And many professors ,
So many dignified, bold men I viewed with shocked-out eyes, And what I noticed oh, right then: I’d travelled through the skies!
As if I were a lightning bolt, I shot the heavens through; So quick and rapid with no halt, I sensed that sky of blue.
The clouds and shrouds had vanished then, As I rose very high; I could not see nor house nor men, Whilst thinking: ‘my, oh my!’
I slowed down to a virtual halt, Views round me were so nice, And then I felt a sudden jolt: The gates of Paradise.
(Since when a man like me, a colt, Would be so terrified That seeing such – I’d feel a jolt, And bashfully just hide?
And I could not just yet stay still, I cannot choose but glide; Although reluctant with no will, I went through, hadn’t cried!)
The trumpet sounded bright and sharp, Jesus, Abe there too! They said to me, playing on harp: “For you we sent, come through!”
I travelled through those gates of gold, Along paths of great stone, And even though I was not cold, I shivered by His throne.
I met Lord God, for me He sent With His almighty sword, “Why Thou! Just and omnipotent All-right and honoured Lord!
What dost Thou seek in humble me, O, greatest of all gods? For I am no one; O, prythee, Attack me not with swords!”
But mighty God said plainly nought, To me He spoke with mind; I then inferred all that He thought, Nor tranquil nor most kind.
“My land is no more holy ground, It is a land of beast. Ruled not by man as much as hound, The hound of very least.
What man back in the past hath been, Is just a memory, Divine can be no longer seen, As much as arbitrary.
Unless man reconstructs his trust, And Me he loves again, A plague upon the land I must Unleash to ruin men.
’Tis solely thine, thy only task, To reconstruct My name; ’Twill be perfect, O, most stark! And thou shalt have much fame.”
Yet what was that I saw back then, While shooting through the clouds, Those famous and most noble men, That drifted through the shrouds:
Napoleon and Cassius, Old kings and senators, Marc Antony and Julius, And many professors,
Why have I seen those men of charm, Of great and gracious deeds, Those men who sometimes caused most harm In times of desp’rate need?”
Yet Lord God did not answer me, In silence He remained, He shot me off in tyranny, And I myself refrained.
And as I traced along the line Of time, without a grip; I felt the passage of fine time: An end came to my trip.
The clouds rushed to obscure the gates, The moonlit beams turned dim; My face so swiftly lost its grace, And joyful awe turned grim.
And as the gates shrunk, undersized, The moonlight shaped a cone. Moreover, I have realised: The noble men were gone.
Napoleon was there no more, And Cassius went just the same; Old kings by now were not my lore, And I would lose my holy fame!
The senators and Antony, Have vanished momentarily; All professors and Julii Were losing form most suddenly.
The inspiration and the muse Had left my corpse alone, I’ve striven hard just not to lose, Yet I was left to moan.
I now have neither inspiration, Nor divine-most mood, None of it detailed information, God must think I’m crude!
Down melancholy streets at night, I walk so grey and dull; Most distant and remote, that's right, Affection is now null.
That dream had come to me just once, I lost my ecstasy; Yet once a while I sense the trance, The bliss, the rhapsody.
Yank You Out Of Despair
You know, love is tough, And so I think, as well: Never was it so rough, Knitted just like hell.
Your points of view are strange, Of all love has in concept; Unlike anything, they’re out of range!
‘Onboard, Ma’am’, He has not slept (Unlike others), which is strange, To do so, he’d need to be adept.
Oh, God, what am I in? For this is worse than any Sin!
Debate I with myself alone, Everlastingly, who’ll be blessed? So, who will ‘win’ your throne? Please, none. No more, no less. Ah, “who’ll be that lucky one?” I know no one under the sun; Remember, you are no-one’s hon.
Hell
I went to Hell, Some people go to Heaven, I committed too many sins, though. Treachery, lies and murder, Sleeping with your best friend’s wife, Oh, man! Is it so bad? Brainwashing me about that stuff, with the Ten Commandments! As if it were so evil and hideous, Do me a favour, leave me alone.
For whatever purpose my thoughts serve, Is it not something good? Retrospectively, I did it all for my own good, Even at the expense of others! Is it a crime? One has to gain, why not me? So, fire is hot. Hot, sultry and boiling, humid and painful. Hell will be a tough one, and it’ll never end, Oh man! It is perpetual! Treachery, is it so bad?
Why, why, God? Amen I said in your holy shrine! Too stupid, isn’t that the reason? Else you would feel threatened, I think you overdid it! Rats! You think I’m that bad? So, why is it? What’s so bad? Didn’t you, Christ, ever think selfishly? Christ! Water’s cold. Cold, wet and freezing, soaking and painful. Old, cheap useless slugs, who do you, rulers, think you are? Learn from us, the people of earth, ‘judges’! Damn God! You little rascal, damn!
Do all you ever wished for, I’ll never break down! You really thought I was Sisyphus? I am not him, nor will I ever be, Neglecting you is what you deserve, ‘omnipotent lords’, God help us, if it were only literal! Hard, dying hard, is that our destiny? Are you trying to do me bad? Ram little pieces of slime down your throats! Damn you, little rascals! That’s what you deserve!
The Lame Poem Here, Mates!
There once was a man from Berlin, He used to get drunk in the inn, Every day till midnight, Lest he’d sense there was light And he never thought it was a sin.
Man! That German was almost insane, Every night he was drunk to the vein! “Please, just help him, alright? Oh, just please!” every night, Every night, said the barman in vain.
May he live and be sober once more He’d be able to walk – not on four, Else we’d feel he’s gone “Rest in peace”, and we’d mourn, “End this lim’rick, or you’d be so sore!”
May his soul be forever serene, And in this way our conscience be clean, Till we help him, “But how?” “End his misery, now!” So why won’t we be, just once, mean?
The Struggle
Yes, the men were killed that day, And all who saw stood still; And so, it is that all we men just may Sense requiems’ sounds’ shrill.
The battle lasted just mere hours, And war was brutally tough; Now we cover graves with pretty flowers, Terrifyingly rough.
But why, oh why do people fight For land and town and throne, If we cannot yet see the shining light [Which shakes us to the bone]?
If peace we claim and land serene We build for man’s own sake, Maybe we [for war] will stop being keen, Man’s life won’t be at stake.
Why bloody battles spill our veins I cannot tell you yet; And as I’m bombed by battle planes, I know that bet, I know the threat – The Armageddon’s set.
Love
Declared to you, my dear love I never quite have done, About my honest care for you, my dove, It ends beyond the sun.
Your caress is kind and sweet, And so, to me you are The flagship of my love’s old, weary fleet, The Navigating Star.
Lost I was and you I found, Oh, what a lovely time! Very much, I am your slave and hound, Eyes on you do shine.
Your lovely locks of chocolate long, Are verbosely defined, No gaze at you won’t look as if it’s wrong… Keys you hold, yes, to my soul, I wish you were just mine.
And eyes you have, so deep, profound, O, Lots of love found there; And near you I feel so safe and sound, I’ll never go again, my dear friend, From you, anywhere!
Mistakes
I have done wrong in my own past, Such no one can deny; And all who claim I was stark white Know it’s an ugly lie.
Oh trouble had arisen, yes, I know it was quite tough; And thus my deeds that made life hell Were worthy of no bluff.
I cannot set the blame upon Myself just so, alone; All those who have tormented me Were meddling in my ‘zone’.
So, consequently I have done A great deal, so much harm; And innocent souls I have known Had simply no alarm.
Some suffered more, some suffered less, Some suffered blindly eyed; And even though I fled away The rope ‘round me was tied.
Oh, countless times I heard the phrase ‘You cannot run away. You must face your mistakes alone, You shan’t be led astray’.
Yet I could not be trusted into Seeing that at mind; I fled, and bound like tied-up hounds I never looked behind.
And life kept on, the old style gone, New challenges faced me; And I had failed to realise I’ll face my destiny.
And then one day, my fate I faced, It hit me cold and hard. And when it hit I suffered greatly, My sky was no more starred.
Yet in dark times there is a light So boldly mine had shone! And yet it was obscured by clouds, And I thought it was gone.
That light rose of a victim’s corpse, One of those blindly eyed; So imperceptive then I was: For it was on my side!
I thought the bold, bright light was gone, Yet it was only hid By clouds that were just passing by, And oh no! What I did…
The dimmed-out light was waiting there, I turned my back to it! And thus to me revealing, It shall never see fit.
That one-time only light I have Declined, that precious gift! And then my life returned to dim, And oh, that was so swift!
I lost my only chance to set myself And others free. Free from my own consequences, That you surely see.
‘And I had done a hellish thing’, So said old Coleridge; Yet he redeemed well known old sins, But I can’t cross that bridge.
I hope I’ve learned from my mistakes, Revealed by that light. Even though it was the hard way, I knew I’ve turned more bright.
But I will never be redeemed, By life or death alike, I have done wrong, and I’ll be gone By lightning’s well-aimed strike.
A Prayer
O, Father, Lord, Our God and King, To Thee alone we pray and sing, We sense our essence most suppressed, Nor shall we speak of utmost stress!
Surely Thou hast borne our sins? And so to Thee we pray our hymns! God, in Thee alone we seem To trust, shalt Thou our sins redeem?
We yearn for care, oh Lord of Men And Saviour of Cub and Ren, We kneel here and we confess, O, Father, make us not regress.
A privilege we now foresee, The sole honour of serving Thee: We shall not now be led astray, And to Thee we will Mass and pray.
But in return to us, shalt Thou Relieve our sins and pure us now? We yearn to be most quickly clean, O, Prythee! Life shall be serene.
And shalt Thou now [with all respect That’s due] just think with retrospect Of us? And since in old shrines’ stalls We ask of Thee most kindly to us all-
Just give redemption for Thou know’st Our sins; and as we pray with most Belief, our love to Thee we do express And we shall not do any less
For our long lives – as long as we Shall live serenely and to Thee We pray – please set our souls now free For bow we down upon our knee.
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