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The Water Song Water
water see the water flow
Astarte
Syriaca MYSTERY:
lo! betwixt the sun and moon Torch-bearing,
her sweet ministers compel
Moonlight Your soul's a countryside extraordinary Where masks and bergamasks enchanting roam, Playing the lute and dancing, melancholy, Under wild disguises quite unknown.
Although they're singing in a minor key Of love triumphant and life opportune, They do not seem to feel felicity Their song fades in the brightness of the moon,
The moonlight calm and sad and beautiful, Which sets the birds a-dream on branches high; Tall fountains sob with passion over-full, And marble statues see their ecstasy.
The Rain Stick Upend the rain stick and what happens next Is a music that you never would have known To listen for. In a cactus stalk
Downpour, sluice-rush, spillage and backwash Come flowing through. You stand there like a pipe Being played by water, you shake it again lightly
And diminuendo runs through all it scales Like a gutter stopping trickling. And now here comes A sprinkle of drops out of the freshened leaves,
Then subtle little wets off grass and daisies; Then glitter-drizzle, almost-breaths of air. Upend the stick again. What happens next
Is undiminished for having happened once, Twice, ten, a thousand times before. Who cares if all the music that transpires
Is the fall of grit or dry seeds through a cactus? You are like a rich man entering heaven Through the ear of a raindrop. Listen now again.
She
holds her favourite cowboy close
Excerpt
from Rubaiyat Myself when young did eagerly frequent Doctor and Saint, and heard great Argument About it and about: but evermore Came out by the same Door as in I went.
With them the Seed of Wisdom did I sow, And with my own hand labour'd it to grow: And this was all the Harvest that I reap'd- "I came like Water, and like Wind I go."
Into this Universe, and why not knowing, Nor whence, like Water willy-nilly flowing: And out of it, as Wind along the Waste, I know not whither, willy-nilly blowing.
What, without asking, hither hurried whence? And, without asking, whither hurried hence! Another and another Cup to drown The Memory of this Impertinence!
Entry catching time deep up in a waiting spell, shucking spinning suns by the hour, bent on the sweet annihilation of responsibility
i, caught up by sunset, suddenly wheeled about to face the memory of an earlier time slam full in the summer air
your perfume after our lovemaking this morning lingered on me until i went all the way back to the restless spring of another year, covered by numberless days, swept by swirling seas, moonrushed
we used to damn near tear each other apart trying to pull something we both agreed felt like love from deep in the superb canyons of our squib souls, threading our eyes with brilliant nuances of what we meant by spring ,,,,,, and the scent of wild flowers lay all about us like acres of longing, lilting in the spawning sky, russet, sweet, swung up by sensuality, sex, and the rainbow wind
Blackcurrant River Blackcurrant river rolls unknown in strange valleys The voices of a hundred rooks go with it, the true benevolent voice of angels With the wide movements of the fir woods when several winds sweep down.
Everything flows with the horrible mysteries of ancient landscapes Of strongholds visited, of large estates, it is along these banks that you can hear The dead passions of errant knights, but how the wind is wholesome.
Let the traveller look through these clearways, he will journey more bravely. Forest soldiers whom the Lord sends, dear delightful rooks. Drive away from here the crafty peasant, clinking glasses with his old stump of an arm.
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