Sunday, November 21, 2010

Poem not included in "Old Poems" (Jim Krull)

         In an Irish spring Yeats is lain
            By Ben Bulben, the poet and seer,
            Scholar-mystic engraved his final plays,
            Cleanly rushing to his and others
            And Ancestral tombs,
            Where the early lines were said
            The painter left the earth
            And stayed the woman's womb.
            When the rear of the book,
            The subject going back and forth
            Has the English and only sword
            Bleed arms of their torn,
            Hallowed inter-ed those star-lookers took.

            In the tallest room, the tallest tower
            Of the castle near the lake
            We rowed eating marmalade sandwiches (seasoned with hyacinthe flower)
            And a Brown fishing-line (Raphael takes
            The light-smoke emitting stone.
                             Pin and pepper in the bell,
                             For the heaven's sake
                             And the peasant's corn bougher.)
            When the most important one
            Had come and gone from hell
            Left his song, perhaps by the lute's tone
            Or horn's or oboe's spell,
            Upwards he went, well before the spear's shower
            And left the rest to follow his wake.
            A row of floury strings were
            In the dinner, a piece of Sligo cake.

            Carrin berenbourg in
            The recorded back from ancient times, on
            Paper, for later proof
            And their rights, the hammer
                 And the death-master of Prinzregenplatz;
            Falling sound of clarin-
            O, two violins are playing in a dance-song
            And plucked bass strings of the guitar remain aloof.
            Vienna, as close to Manhattan
            Paralleled by water, and squeezed by prongs. 

But history is a part of every
            Sinister or non-sinister plan;
            All of the out cries, the dead and new
            That comes, plain
            Or odd the every winter
            In the trent, under the pit's roof,
            Carrier, canter.
            The dragon, in his den, thin
            From lonely nights, his damsel's prince's son
            Came to the cave, and took his mother from him.
            Covered skull, sword, nasal poof
            From lacking fuel to fire the trigger,
            Then after battle's action, he gathered, replanted
            The hyacinthe; waited while lavender grew.

                        As the object from the diamond miner's sewn
            Coat, issued as a replace-
            Ment by his employer, hewn
            By other worker's plaint.
                        Done by the rite of the bridal kings
            The sacrifice of hours in the night, angelic wings
            Of their hope go upward, as a spirit reigns
            Over the vast hills, to the sea
            And into fish, and the large habits of filial pain,
            When marred and fractured
            Heathens be among the last that
            Remain in their mountain dwellings, hidden from light.
            The dragon only drinks from the clear lake, an animal
            That is sane
            And knows what
            It should, without it's knowing right   --
            The regatta sails holding wood carved by underlings,
                Part of the ship, above the singing slaves.


                     
                                                                 July 18, '09

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