Long Wake the dead Poems
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He was a cowboy problem child
rescued by a mendicant sage brush sorcerer
resulting in his remembering everything
flawlessly insolently permanantly
birth death life things in space have a beer
owner of his own head at last
thanks to whiskey tainted improvisations
and the use of springs and levers
in order to bring the Almighty down to earth
for a patch job on his many severed limbs
he slept on a bed of maguey spines
combed his tumbleweed hair over the burn spots
and tattooed his many and fecund scars into
the outlines of zippers and pockets
Tex Lester was a lariat twirling minstrel
and undefeated Popsicle stick swordsman
subject to a chronic howling for pootang
Tex took me under his leathery wings
together we praised the pop up toaster
and often spoke of mechanics and luck
taught me to look at girls all anew
in the little red school house by the cactus patch
Miss LobowskI beat off my attempts
at humping her leg during her class in ethics
as if a description of total damnation
could repair the broken mosaic of attention
Tex would implore with the tact of a scorpion
madam cover your eyes in the name of decency
what could I do but wake the dead
and digress distressingly in the dirt
a heartfelt rain making non-sequitir
well kids are full of surprises
uninhibited by mystery or murderous rage
complete they are in a different way
but the more Miss Lobowski's convex mariachis
bucked and danced under her wet serape
the more it popped into Tex's ten gallon head
to teach her an old cowboy rope trick
round and round went his cowboy lariat
the desire to repeat pleasure unfortunately
is the desire to repeat it exactly endlessly
and that's the problem the big problem
at the museum of horrible deaths
you grab their ears and whisper
rest your head on a cloud angel
and hope they don't end up on top
of a truckload of flattened automobiles
he went crazy on her flesh
let loose his gila monster on her blazing ****
and together they began robbing banks
this is going to cost me my diploma
From "Engine of Didactic Beauty" available on Amazon
Artist Portfolio: http://walteralter.byethost32.com/
These two poems composed to honor this truly great poet,
Elinor Wylie....
(1.)
Heaven Smiles And Its Light Awaits
Icy winds have died, winter fled
Hope has sung, Spring has sprung
Love and promise have wed
new life's radiant glow has brung
music to wake the dead.
Faded are snows that graced the trees
white colors that adorned
forest glens far from seas
Nature's gifts, its dear christened born
cast from Love's seeded pleas.
Icy winds have died, winter fled
Hope has sung, Spring has sprung
Love and promise have wed
new life's radiant glow has brung
music to wake the dead.
As Life and Love, partner with Fate.
Heaven smiles and its Light awaits.
Robert J. Lindley, 3-27-2020
Rhyme, Lin 86686 form
( Wherein Life And Spring This Dark Racing World Renews )
Syllables Per Line:8 6 6 8 6 0 8 6 6 8 6 0 8 6 6 8 6 0 8 8
Total # Syllables::118
Total # Words::::::96
Note- Tribute poem composed for fourth poet, ( Elinor Wylie )
in my, -- "Lesser Known Poets Series".
See my new blog on this majestically talented and amazing poet.....
(2.)
From Within Earth's Red Blooms, Love Quickly Flew
Of those sweet tender kisses-- I recall
Images that set fiery flames a'leaping
Warming hearts in truest love did swiftly fall
While Cupid through keyhole was a'peeping
From within earth's red blooms love quickly flew
As both yellow moon, twinkling stars did glow
Our eager hearts and eyes meeting we knew
Chained in golden paradise sent to grow,
In romance wedded to be great treasure
Nights of bliss to be our glittering gems
Time setting pure joy well beyond measure
We to become intertwining rose stems,
Flowers shining in garden of true love
Two cast into one, by Heavens above.
Robert J. Lindley, 3-27-2020
Sonnet, ( Depths Of Love Those So Truly Blessed Know )
Syllables Per Line:10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10
Total # Syllables::140
Total # Words:::::100
Note-
Tribute poem composed for fourth poet, ( Elinor Wylie )
in my, -- "Lesser Known Poets Series".
See my new blog on this majestically talented and amazing poet...
To the gravedigger, dear sir
let the ivy grow and the rain fall in the stele
As a flower fall from Eden, I hear the angels sing
While I slightly twist and turn in the God’s acre, so deep.
Erstwhile a soldier of war, till kingdom come, I shall remain as such.
I am not a hero, just a son who never returned
in foreign lands and in an alien time I sleep through days and nights
as the war ends and victory levitates I do not celebrate
Just mourn over broken promises.
As in the early morning there on the sepulcher
A blackbird sits and cries
Down to the pavements and to the catacombs
it caws and caws in despair to wake the dead.
And as the roads that lay out of the graveyard
And the thousand miles journey
That follows, shall never be trodden.
As the church bells ring
And the crowd that follows shall pray for me,
How as of upon a very fair time and of now I ask my mother
To take me to church and lay me down at divinity
A girl and her lover meets in the burial ground
And they speak of their love in secret
Hush now , the dead are listening
Of your tryst in the graveyard
Of every night and the sweet parting kiss,
We wonder, we covet and remember our own despair
When we hear your love song in that strange tongue.
I weep in the depths for my own tattered love
Where my lover still weeps by the hillside
Or has she moved on.
the first drop of rain, or the first piece of snow,
The first beam of light of the first cover of darkness
Strike my bed first
And while the sun keeps the moss away
I wait and wait, not for my widow
Nor for some candles in a dark stormy night
I do not wish for flowers, for I cannot smell them
To days past and nights darkened by
All I wish and could wish lay by a thousand miles
In distance, homeward bound.
Since I cannot follow, and never make haste
I shall lay here quietly, without a sound
And dream of the seas and oceans and of clouds passing by.
4/4/15
The evening dark and foggy as the children in their guises
with Mums and Dads in tow; collecting trick or treat surprises.
My porch, festooned with spiders, ghosts and ugly-looking gore,
signalled that I’d welcome them if they knocked at my door.
I watched them move along my street, in groups of two’s and threes,
their lanterns lighting up the darkened branches of the trees.
Barking dogs and screeching cats, bemused at all the noise,
continued to berate these oddly scary girls and boys.
Stooping down to check that I had my supply of sweets,
I shivered as a gust of wind blew right along my street.
Catching me off guard, the bowl of sweeties overturned
and knocked a candle over, whereupon my hands were burned.
Not thinking of the consequences, I let out a yell -
just as a mini monster raised his hand to ring my bell.
And though not known for swearing, nonetheless I hurled a curse,
tearing clear throughout the sky - and mini monster dropped his purse.
The raucous discord, mini-monster, me, the dogs, the cats,
did not quite wake the dead ( but several witches lost their hats )
The flaming contents of my porch was tossed into the air,
but the children saw this only as a vain attempt to scare.
The parents, standing some way back, delighting at this sight,
could not see through the fog that my front porch was well alight.
As the monsters and the witches threw their arms up to the stars,
the Mums and Dads just clapped and chirped up with their ‘Oohs’ and ‘Aahs’
I grabbed a blanket, managing to kill the growing flames,
but the smoke cloud brought a new dimension to their creepy games.
My face now blackened, arms aloft and clearly in pain,
I must have looked horrendous - as the parents clapped again.
The kids, unfazed, picked up the smouldering treats and bagged them all
and through their plastic teeth declared: I was the scariest of all!
Well some they say though straight or gay
Get fun from innuendo
While others wait ‘til dark
To get their kicks outside your window
Some do the deed without a sound
Some labour in the dark
While others roars would wake the dead
Some sing out like a lark
Variety’s the spice of life
And while there’s a great selection
We’ve all been screwed from time to time
At every new election
There’s watersports and bondage
There’s even golden showers
Beware though not to mix the two
Or you’ll stay wrapped up for hours
Some wear a mask with eye-holes
Or some dangerous protrusion
Some sport a tail or riding crop
While lost in their delusion
Some women favour veggies
To chippies sparks or plumbers
They relish every celery stick
Or juicy green cucumbers
There’s tales that tell of fishermen
Quite partial to a skate
Though fond of fish I always was
I prefer mine on a plate
Some wrap up like an onion
For fear their skin is showing
While some rush in all fingers and thumbs
With boobs and buttocks glowing
There are those without a conscience
Who swear they’re not the owner
Oh deary me it had to be
Someone elses *****
Though some would up and go all night
Some finish in a minute
While others just the thought alone
Would push them past their limit
While girls dress up as men
And Lads like Cinderella
It takes a little work sometime
To tell female from fella
Uniforms are common place
Considered rather arty
A sturdy pair of coppers cuffs
Are the rave at swingers parties
There’s beads and balls and bangles
They may become a habit
And a whirling whirring weapon
They call the Rampant Rabbit
When picking out a present
For your partners Xmas box
Have Duracell a plenty
In her little Xmas socks
So while sex it has its ups and downs
Even Daniel would agree
It’s a sure fire cure for unwanted frowns
And it beats a cup of Tea
We come from realms beyond your sight,
A council bound by cosmic law,
To warn you now of endless night,
Should mankind fail to mend its flaw.
The stars have watched your rise and fall,
Your greed that turns to molten pain,
You spill the blood of one and all,
And mock the world with your disdain.
Each tree you fell, each sea you choke,
Each creature culled by thoughtless hand,
Each sacred bond of trust you broke,
Has written doom upon your land.
We speak as one, five voices clear,
Ancient stewards of the stars,
Our judgment holds no hate or fear,
But justice born of countless scars.
You mine the Earth until she weeps,
You scorch the skies with flames of war,
You harvest souls like herded sheep,
Yet hunger evermore for more.
Your towers rise, your empires sprawl,
Yet nothing lives where shadows tread.
You claim the heavens, stake it all,
And leave your mother planet dead.
Do you not see the seeds you sow?
The fractured hearts, the poisoned streams?
A path of ruin lies below,
And silenced are the dreamers' dreams.
Know this, O Earth, the time draws near,
Your actions write a final page.
A fate of ash, of pain, of fear,
Shall greet the end of humankind's age.
But mercy lingers, faint but true,
If you would cast aside your sin.
The choice remains with all of you:
To rise anew or fall within.
Destroy the greed that blinds your hearts,
Embrace the life that yet remains,
Undo the wrongs, make humble starts,
And cleanse your soil of blood-stained chains.
We are the Council, Five and wise,
Guardians of the cosmic tide.
Heed our words, or meet demise,
For time is not on mankind’s side.
Choose now, before the dawn has fled,
Before your world is claimed and torn.
For if you do not wake the dead,
The stars will mourn what Earth has borne.
Life is short
Too short to read all the poems ever written
Talk less of novels and plays
This life is too short
To listen to all the music ever recorded
And certainly too short to watch all the movies ever made
This life is too short of me not to think of death
Too short for me not to think of my last hour on earth
For me not to reflect on how I am living my life
I count myself poor and rich
Unlucky and so Lucky
Unfortunate and so fortunate
My heart has run away too many times to count
Chasing desire and worldly pleasure
Have indulge in forbidden dance
I have cheated and stole
Tell lies that can wake the dead
Sinned a mountain high, I am no saint
So is the life have led
But still I am fortunate
For my faith in Allah is unwavering
At a young age have learnt to pray
Learnt to ask for forgiveness and leave pride behind
I have learnt to fast, to leave all self-desire behind to worship Allah
I am lucky
For Allah guidance stirs me clear of the worst
It stirs me back to me, to all that is good
I am rich beyond all measure
Cause to Allah I turn to for reward
Allah the owner of heaven, earth and everything in between
My past is colourful as the rainbow
My present a tie rope walk
But I have hope and faith in solid future
A future where my actions are lead only by the guidance of Allah
Where my heart desires are the whispers of the Quran
The teaching of my beloved prophet Muhammad (peace and blessing of Allah be upon him)
After-all this life is too short to live for
So I will live for eternity in Paradise
I pray that we all do the same
Assalamu Alakum Wa Rahmatulah Wa Barakatuh
(Peace, mercy and blessing of Allah (S.W.T) be upon you)
You never feed me.
Perhaps I'll sleep on your face.
That will show you.
You must scratch me there!
Yes, above my tail! Behold,
elevator butt.
I need a new toy.
Tail of black dog keeps good time.
Pounce! good dog! good dog!
The rule for today.
Touch my tail, I shred your hand.
New rule tomorrow.
In deep sleep hear sound
Cat vomit hairball somewhere.
Will find in morning.
Grace personified
I leap into the window
I meant to do that
Blur of motion, then-
Silence, me, a paper bag
What is so funny?
The mighty hunter
Returns with gifts of plump birds
Your foot just squashed one.
You're always typing
Well, let's see you ignore my
Sitting on your hands.
My small cardboard box
You cannot see me if I
Can just hide my head.
Terrible battle
I fought for hours. Come and see!
What's a "term paper"?
Kitty likes plastic
Confuses for litter box
Don't leave tarp around
Small brave carnivores
Kill pine cones and mosquitoes
Fear vacuum cleaner
Want to trim my claws
Don't even think about it!
My yelps will wake the dead
I want to be close
To you. Can I fit my head
inside your armpit?
Wanna go outside.
Oh, no! Help! I got outside!
Let me back inside!
Oh no! Big One
has been trapped by newspaper.
Cat to the rescue!
Humans are so strange.
Mine lies still in the bed, then screams!
My claws aren't that sharp....
Cats meow out of angst
"Thumbs! If only we had thumbs!
We could break so much"
Litter box not there
You must have moved it again
I'll crap in the sink
The Big Ones snore now
Every room is dark and cold
time for "Cup Hockey"
We're almost equals
I purr to show I love you
Want to smell my butt
Form:
Death is like a dream
Hope that keeps me wishin
I know I'm not going to heaven
I've done too much sining
Stars hanging in the sky
Like cherries I can pick
Teaching me a lesson
Somethings are impossible to reach
What's the point of livin
When the world keeps takin
Maybe it's what I deserve
I'm just getting reciprocated
Serving time for my crime
A cage in my own mind
I won't attempt to break free
Searching for the sanity I left behind
These creepies and crawlies
I've relocated to my head
Are reluctant to the living
My words could wake the dead
Corrupted by another's humility
I've misplaced my pride and dignity
Heart and soul were already in doubt
Voices in my head are begging to shout!
Lightening and thunder
Gushing over the hills
Spilling fake sanity
In a castle of my fears
But as many things I do
To fortify these forget me nots
My brain will deteriorate
And my foundation will rot
Folds are falling apart at the seems
I can't run from this nightmare
Even out of my dreams
Thinking exactly of what you mean to me, nothing is or ever will be as it seems
Pulling shards of glass
Out of my bleeding feet
Every step that I take
The pain is too good for me
Tops of frothing waves
Reaching an equitable crest
The only thing I hope and pray for
Is my untimely death
Seems to be, what is fair
Lungs fill with everything, except for air
Waves are tactfully dragging me under
Fragments of my mind crack and crumble
Drown the voices, speaking through clenched teeth
As much as I dream, death may be too good for a coward like me
Form:
Continued from Part 1
The City’s blur? A sepulcher for Christians, Muslims, Jews –
Cathedrals, Temples, vacant now, enshrine their residues,
for churches, mosques and synagogues abide without a bruise.
No cantillation, belfry bells, monastic chants inspire
and Minarets, though standing yet, host neither voice nor crier -
abodes and buildings silhouette a muted spectral choir.
A church’s Gothic ceilings guard the empty pews below
and, all alone amongst the stones, a maiden’s blue jabot.
The Saints, in crypts, though nondescript, grace halos now aglow.
Stray footsteps swarm through church no more (apostates that profane)
though echoes in the nave still din and chalice cups retain
an altar wine that tastes of brine decaying in the rain.
Coiled candle sticks, with twisted wicks, no longer 'lume the cracks -
their dying flames revealed the shame, mid pendant pearls of wax,
when deference to innocence dissolved in molten tracks.
Six steeple towers, steel though now drab daggers in the sky!
Their hallowed halls no longer call when breezes wander by –
for, filled with dread to wake the dead, they've ceased to sough or sigh.
The chapel chimes? Their clapper rope (that tongue-tied confidante)
won’t writhe to ring the carillon, alone and lean and gaunt –
its flocks of jute, now fallen mute, adorn the holy font.
No saints will come with jagged tongues to sing a silent psalm
nor bless pale lips with languid quips to pierce the deathly calm,
nor pray for mercy, grace deferred, nor beg lethean balm.
Continued in Part 3