Motion 1

If timeless still the verses stand
body to body and hand to hand
clasping rhyme and embracing sound
the language lost, the meaning found

then can we help but to write it down:
the lightest laugh, the bluntest frown,
the leaf-vein green, the dewdrop, barely seen,
the fastest hold, nothing in between -

in tenderest words, inked on the delicate page:
there our sorrows, there our rage...
and yet all coming to self-ruination
how in things fragile we find our elation

should it all not last, and fade away
should our loves, and lives, refuse to stay
indelibly marked, carved into stone,
at least we know, in this we are not alone -

so come let us live, laugh, write and do it all,
until the day come each, in turn, we stop and fall.

'night

When the digital clock
seems to tick
in the small hours
and the forbidden caffeine
calling from the kitchen
is the doorstop
holding the entrance
to consciousness open

then oh god
chalky mouthing
of words not absorbing
a single entity
information swimming
just at the surface
elusive
non-conducive
to learning
of any sort
really

what's the point?

ah bed.
'night.

A Poet's Night Out

Hey Keats, you bright star, come over
We'll wheelbarrow William Carlos Williams over
Grab a little Shakespeare by his black wires
And tease the Cummings out of Tennyson -
Hey, what's Donne is done,
Right?

We'll go to Atwood's where the door swings open
Welcoming the Hardy folk, where the mighty build and blend
After a Frosty winter they spend on the road less traveled by,
Pounding the liquor back, turning faces into apparitions
And I lose a Bishop at chess, but its loss is no disaster,
While Suzanne takes you down, your brawl Cohen-ciding
With the children's Carrolling hour; but 'twas brillig enough
That they didn't see you make a Dickinson of yourself
Or swear: "I shall but drink the more!"

Then we'll Thomas it into that good night
Tempt the Wordsworthy into that sweet bower
Then, Blake by Blake, turn innocence into experience...
Because hey, honey, love's red, red rose Burns
At every Marvellous pore with instant Fires,
And we'll Eliot it out while the evening is spread out against the sky.

So don't give me your Sassoon, soldier, we're sworn to action,
Even if our Wilde honey of romance
bring but little to no satisfaction.