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the love song of h. barnard holmes
Contributed by
blackbird
on
Sunday, 12th October 2003 @ 10:26:25 PM in AEST
Topic:
Tributes
|
so much depends
upon
a red wheel
barrow
glazed with rain
water
beside the white
chickens
(william carlos williams, the red wheelbarrow).
let us go then, you and i
and gaze a passing starry skies
like chalk dust across a blackboard
let us stop and pause and find
a reason to be kind
for life has swept us away and we
cannot stop to breathe
in the dustings of our lives.
and indeed there will be time to pass
to ponder: dare i ask? and, dare i ask?
time to pull my hands back from where?---
weaving molten dreamcatchers out of air.
in a classroom, in hazy sideways stares
time for me to recall:
i do know know you at all
i do not know you, at all.
and indeed there will be time
time to smile laugh and rhyme
little bits of nothing into a poem
like the oxygenated ocean foam.
and time for all the fears
to fall like tears
but wonderings of light and soft retreat
salty tears of tastings sweet.
time for you and time for me
time for toast and time for tea
time for the mumbling bumblebee
time for humbling oaken trees.
And i have known the umbrellas, known them all
scabbling beetles across the hall
shaking out the silver rain
like a passing pain
leaving it upon the tile.
And I have known the rains, known them all--
Have known thunder and lightning and the soft rain feels
I have taken my pain with black high heels
and silver handled parasols across the lawn
oaken trees against the dawn
And i often wonder:
Do I dare
defy the galaxy?
(only for time for you and time for me
and time for the forging of forgotten keys)
i do not know how to unlock the doors
of this institution and its doors
i do not know how to know you----
to find you
and your oaks
and your bicycle spokes.
...
shall i say, i have heard
but much more, i have listened
to the blackbird flying past my open window?
shall i say, i have walked with the sand shifting beneath my heels
and i have seen the deep six sadness
of a silent girl in a blue grey dress,
throwing her arms to the cry of the wild sea?
i should have been a dusty empty chair
with only shadows to keep my company.
...
i am gone... i am gone...
i shall walk in straight lines towards the falling sun.
shall i weave my hair in braids? do i dare to ponder my hand?
i shall scrub the white home sunbleached floors with a mixture of ginger and sand.
i hear the calls of poetry and land.
i do not know how to answer them.
i have heard the higher calls to beauty at night
night that is deep and dark and black
with a wordless soul to answer back
We have seen the hand beckon us to find
the inner tie-dyed contours of our mind
Until we wake unto this dream, and die.
Copyright ©
blackbird
... [
2003-10-12 22:26:25]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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