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Below is the poem entitled Postscript which was written by poet Keith Bickerstaffe. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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...for Hart Crane - In Memoriam - (1899-1932) 

Words of purpose, carved and struck, 
as chipped from granite's cold confines, 
fashioned into filigrees 
that shocked and startled feebler minds. 

The Bridge, that span of subtle magic, 
metaphor of time and space, 
stretching skyward, swooping low, 
connecting man to style and grace. 

Letters of sophistication 
sent to those who praised and scorned, 
ever striving for perfection, 
friends were used and heroes mourned. 

A man at odds with bland conventions, 
drunk, debauched, yet tried and true, 
companionship oft cold and faithless 
fostered with a dockside crew. 

On a ship, confused and homeless, 
wandering, he yearned for ease, 
the ocean summoned this poor vagrant, 
in its depths he found his peace. 

Copyright © Keith Bickerstaffe

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  1. Date: 12/24/2012 8:49:00 PM
    Keith, Once again, we find ourselves trapped in the Holiday Season. And, hear I am stopping by to say Hi and to wish you a Merry Christmas once again sincerely from my heart. Loving each moment I found comforting here on the soup. Thank you for any comment or support you have offered now or in the past. Love always & forever ~ PD

  1. Date: 11/9/2012 4:16:00 PM
    I suppose a lot of men have their weak points especially the creative ones. I've read bios of musicians and a lot were disfunctional so I must look up Hart crane and see if I find his poems. You always take a subject and make a grand production out of it! :)

  1. Date: 11/5/2012 4:41:00 PM
    Hi Keith - Thanks for educating me 'a little' on Hart Crane - your last stanza spurred me to google. Speaking of that last stanza - it whispers like a ghost ship. Again, a hint of Longfellow dear poet. love, Kathy

  1. Date: 10/31/2012 11:53:00 AM
    I have enjoyed reading your outstanding dedication today Keith. Hope to read more of it soon. Love, Carol