Friday, September 24, 2010

On the blood soaked alter

On the blood soaked alter

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On the blood soaked alter

NewYorkCitySpring0007.jpg

Council of People's Commissars of the sownar.com

On the blood soaked alter

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MASS WASTING

Clouds of rancid

incense choke

ancient widows

who dutifully offer their mite

for the Bishop s vacation

On the blood soaked alter

below a fetish

representing a corpse

nailed to a tree

a pink and plump cherubim

guilt vested

advises the congregation

to more faithfully imitate

In the back pew I gladly exude a billow of flatulence

which presumably ascends to tarry in the supreme recesses

of the vaulting

I exit in mid incantation

Outside

a street dweller spits out a tooth

and wipes green slime from his nose

Spareaquarter

Without looking at him

I pass quickly by

and am swallowed into the din of traffic

This spring as it comes bursts up in bonfires green

Wild puffing of emerald trees and flame filled bushes

Thorn blossom lifting in wreaths of smoke between

Where the wood fumes up and the watery flickering rushes

I am amazed at this spring this conflagration

Of green fires lit on the soil of the earth this blaze

Of growing and sparks that puff in wild gyration

Faces of people streaming across my gaze

And I what fountain of fire am I among

This leaping combustion of spring My spirit is tossed

About like a shadow buffeted in the throng

Of flames a shadow that s gone astray and is lost

Nothing is so beautiful as spring

When weeds in wheels shoot long and lovely and lush

Thrush s eggs look little low heavens and thrush

Through the echoing timber does so rinse and wring

The ear it strikes like lightnings to hear him sing

The glassy peartree leaves and blooms they brush

The descending blue that blue is all in a rush

With richness the racing lambs too have fair their fling

What is all this juice and all this joy

A strain of the earth s sweet being in the beginning

In Eden garden Have get before it cloy

Before it cloud Christ lord and sour with sinning

Innocent mind and Mayday in girl and boy

Most O maid s child thy choice and worthy the winning

A little madness in the Spring

Is wholesome even for the King

But God be with the Clown

Who ponders this tremendous scene

This whole Experiment of Green

As if it were his own

Spring for all the craziness

death I find I m still in love

with among others myself

O adventurers would find

me boring as they venture up their mountain

I m nowhere near their trail still

spring courses through me

like a fifth cup of coffee

in an hour

I walk monoxide sidewalks

searching for something in the windows to redeem

my idle habits mere objects

have never held me for long unless

they have meaning to engage my wit

otherwise they re just someone else s elevators

going up to a price tag

I m not willing to pay The traffic

yours truly

always has had a mind of its own that honks

when it thinks it s right

Do I ignore responsibility We can think we do

Everything that is done to by for us

Well we can choose the moon It enters

our lives on such a regular basis

we nearly take it

for granite

Then one night

much like any other except it s this night

under this deepening blue sky

with all its bright twinkling thisses

The moon

appears

big pale

crescent yellow

just above the hill

reflecting off electric skyscraper windows

Everything I feel tells me

Honk what is distance

when Spring is coursing through

For winter s rains and ruins are over

And all the season of snows and sins

The days dividing lover and lover

The light that loses the night that wins

And time remembered is grief forgotten

And frosts are slain and flowers begotten

And in green underwood and cover

Blossom by blossom the spring begins

I sing of brooks of blossoms birds and bowers

Of April May of June and July flowers

I sing of Maypoles Hock carts wassails wakes

Of bridegrooms brides and of their bridal cakes

in Just

spring when the world is mud

luscious the little

lame balloonman

whistles far and wee

The sun was warm but the wind was chill

You know how it is with an April day

When the sun is out and the wind is still

You re one month on in the middle of May

But if you so much as dare to speak

A cloud comes over the sunlit arch

A wind comes off a frozen peak

And you re two months back in the middle of March

Spring the sweet spring is the year s pleasant king

Then blooms each thing then maids dance in a ring

Cold doth not sting the pretty birds do sing

Cuckoo jug jug pu we to witta woo

Spring is a miraculous experience

The whole world comes

alive after the winter in which

it seemed that everything was dead

The world comes filled

with color and the scent

of delicious greenery

The world that seemed so dull

and cold has come

alive once again

Little did we know

that beneath the cold hard

ground the plants and trees

were preparing for rebirth

Spring gives us hope for rejuvenation

in our own lives as well

Spring is a time to renew

the excitement and zest

for life that lives inside

Spring song

Singing liquid notes

In the green bud tree

A willow warbler

Welcomes the sun on the old wall

Its song melts away

The long grey winter

Sing of sweet hope

Let no late frost

Stop its trilling throat

Water

Light spills on the table

through glass

surprised to find itself

focused

by water

water cleans heals quenches

raises life from dust

February

already prim snowflakes

meld into murmuring water

smelling of spring

the season of kisses

Dark denial

outweighed by hatchling down

swept away

on a passionate raindrop

The bluff March wind set out from home

Before the peep of day

But nobody seemed to be glad he had come

And nobody asked him to stay

Yet he dried up the snow banks far and near

And made the snow clouds roll

Huddled up in a heap like driven sheep

Way off to the cold North Pole

He broke the ice on the river s back

And floated it down the tide

And the wild ducks came with a loud Quack quack

To play in the waters wide

He snatched the hat off Johnny s head

And rolled it on and on

And oh what a merry chase it led

Little laughing and scampering John

He swung the tree where the squirrel lay

Too late in its winter bed

And he seemed to say in his jolly way

Wake up little sleepy head

He dried the yard so that Rob and Ted

Could play at marbles there

And he painted their cheeks a carmine red

With the greatest skill and care

He shook all the clothes lines one by one

What a busy time he had

But nobody thanked him for all he had done

Now wasn t that just too bad

I know a little maiden

She is very fair and sweet

As she trips among the grasses

That kiss her dainty feet

Her arms are full of flowers

The snow drops pure and white

Timid blue eyed violets

And daffodillies bright

She loves dear Mother Nature

And wanders by her side

She beckons to the birdlings

That flock from far and wide

She wakes the baby brooklets

Soft breezes hear her call

She tells the little children

The sweetest tales of all

Her brow is sometimes clouded

And she sighs with gentle grace

Till the sunbeams daring lovers

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