SONNET IN BEE FLAT
There must be a place (but I've yet to find one)
beneath the Sol-drawn dawn of autumn skies
where cut-throat trout still find the heart to run
and the fullness of Summer's life never dies.
There, as if Earth had changed rotati...
I ended up a stalk one night.
A stalk of beans you see
How I did, I do not know
Unless of course in dreams.
Stalked by beans? Beyond their means.
By harps that sing and talk?
The best of beans you see
Can talk to thee in dreams it seems.
What are those shattering thumps come hence?
Footfalls shaking, breaking the foundations of earth!
Atlasian pillars upon which yon castle leans,
in whose nests lie golden gosling eggs,
protect me from my stalking dreams!
My dreams of beans, best beans you see
Those laced with fine leavings of fantasy.
Floating thus in tea's last dregs,
and making less and less of sense,
I fight old giants for all I'm worth,
I stalked them back with all my might,
and ere the dawn of new day rose,
I woke up from my midnight doze
and saw not one but two cows close
with cackling geese about me pose
and forgotten harp of gold
on which I've played such songs of old.
--------------------------
mindbringer, 10 September 2009
Poem #2
EQUINOX FOX
Vernon the aqua fox,
swim fast 'ere Summer's fall;
wade wide-streamed Autumn's lull.
Your rust red coat and socks
of white will fade at snowfall's call
and, hunting just to keep kits full,
at moon you'll howl and nip but fail
at Winter's icy onslought gale.
These equal days of light and dark
will soon make way
for short days and stark
with cold and biting winds,
whose wide streams are too hard for play.
There! Beyond the river bends,
you see the sun of spring arrive
and all the world is back - alive!
Now struggle fox with coat of red,
to out your den, back from the dead,
and greet spring's dawn and all it sends.
--------------------------
mindbringer, 16 September 2009
Poem #3
BY CYCLES FALL
Neaped by a circadian moon,
I'd reached for you in spring tide love,
you who under sighed lonely loon
and rose on drafts yon turtle dove.
So, my wide and dark Canadian sky,
I who lack June's lunar stare,
shall wither here upon this vine.
With care or not, my love must die
and weap shall none for myrtle I.
My petaled fall,
my life untwined.
--------------------------
mindbringer, 3 September 2009
Poem #4
THE STAGE
Play, shout, laugh!
Chi-fully and full of mind,
as The Bard said,
in your head or out,
but play!
Bring the rafters down,
down upon this world.
Do not fret, do not worry!
At this, do not be sad!
For Mighty Atlas still he fights,
And, lo!, the next moment comes!
Like the dawn it comes!
Glimmering, it comes to rout the crowd,
those minds that dared to laugh out loud,
to play and shout and run all 'round.
Here or there all twirled about,
Everywhere in the fields of time.
Nowhere in the reels of space.
Somewhere in this mystery,
this kind of history we find.
We find while playing, laughing under lights,
those endings, those stars, those maybees,
those starting points all 'round like leaves.
Rest now from this our play,
Fall here amongst these shimmerings,
the once beginnings of moments past.
--------------------------
mindbringer, 24 August 2009
Poem #5
THE CONQUEROR
Hammer of Thor.
The wide world: his nail,
the one great mind: his ore.
Though silver not,
Maxwellian was he.
As down the hill must fall the tumbled pail,
so too must fall the rotted apple's core
into the wormfood earthen rot.
Orwellian? Must be!
Valhalla now dwells he.
--------------------------------------
mindbringer, 25 August 2009