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Best Poems Written by Craig Leaf

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War of Lilies and of Roses (On the Rape of Lucrece)

WAR OF LILIES AND OF ROSES

Lilies white, blushing with red roses sweet
A lily-rose fair, unstained, Rome's virtuous Lucrece
Of beauty so strong, even in desire, men doth retreat. 

Sextus Tarquinius vile with the lust that men enclose
Defiant, would defile, such a flawless rose
Unable to repose his swelling desire
Enraged by her beauty, to merely admire
Nympholeptic he, to acquire    
Lucrece of the rose rubbed cheeks and lily white face
In lust Sextus Tarquinius wist wilt and debase 
And force open lily white thighs 
	deified
  		   he	
		     defiled
				   she
To wrench such peddles enclosed
Ravaging such a sacred lily, rose
	eros
	     sore
		     bled
Till white stained red, both thigh and bed
Leaving such a sweet flower torn, alive
So, polluted, no longer chaste, she with dagger neat
Did drive sharp between her bosom's blossom, sweet
Which did anoint red the sheet
Roses spilled; lilies retreat.

Death be sweet and release 
Rome's sweet Lucrece

Finishing Line Press.  Book FAREWELL TO THE DUST, by C. S. Leaf avalible March 2008
www.FinishingLinePress.com

Copyright © Craig Leaf | Year Posted 2007



Details | Craig Leaf Poem

Girl Girl Girl

Whether we wander wistful
whether we wander wise
we waltz wedding’s waltz; whenever
whatever weather
we’ll wriggle with wishful wives

Wind wispy willow
willy-nilly we’ll whirl 
we’ll widdle we’ll weave; whenever 
whatever weather
we'll waltz with wedding's wench

Well worthy we writers
who with words wrench









Finishing Line Press.  Book FAREWELL TO THE DUST, by C. S. Leaf avalible March 2008
www.FinishingLinePress.com

Copyright © Craig Leaf | Year Posted 2007

Details | Craig Leaf Poem

Untitled Parts 1 & 2 (Please Comment)

you are all a lost generation -- Gertrude Stein ?

I

Once hallowed encephalon 
cavernous cerebral chasms
	now less serene 
		ruptured n' spleen
Subjected to ravenous days?
Days n' illumination?
n' summers hibernation?
Awaiting eschatology and Madonna's divination

In summers somnolent slumbers I was told
In dreams of all truths and history's scrolled
and what a fair delication to unfold
truth rings from the shell aft each reeling beak's descent
Forsake of the shell's salty fleshes derivment

A fleshy flower buds on the briar
To pluck and dissect or leave to admire

Death in creation
dreaming awakes, awakenings dream
In our waking weakness lies perfection
But, oh how sweet to dream  

Subjected to my piety in blinding ruth	
did I in dreaming sin for sooth?

Had Queen Mab or Archimago	
	twist my thrice twisted dreams
		with lies, abashing
and which in violence dance and beam
As waves with phosphorus' glow
they in guise clever crashing: gleam 
false sooth, in golden pools of indigo 
ever changing yet constant
As waves upon the shore
	singing
Sometimes soft and melancholy
Sometimes malice, as to destroy

Death in creation
dreaming awakes, awakenings dream
In our waking weakness lies perfection
But, oh how sweet to dream 
II

Oh my visage
how it pales in the light beside... 
	her 
		my madonna 
my oracle my day
Darkness in its defined fray
and I Amidst a Yeats' Byzantine nightmare 
to linger, to consist, to decay, an ill-stared heir
	a doxology,
		       pregnant with heterodoxy. 

Paling in comparison, in cavernous fright
days n' days and infinite blight
Static tremors. Intangible vibrations
	Winter
		Summer
			Solstice
Hibernation

To seek what lay beneath
the countenance of the Madonna
the purity
The past I prospectively reap
	n' seep
		n' sow
The city's concrete catacombs glow  
The future in night
day's abrasive
in its own right
reside in the day
confide in night
Rage, rage and endless blight 
in dreaming escape day n' days of 
a lifetimes endless death, in love 

Death in creation
dreaming awakes, awakenings dream
In our waking weakness lies perfection
But, oh how sweet to dream

Copyright © Craig Leaf | Year Posted 2007

Details | Craig Leaf Poem

Veronica Voss

You are old I am young
You have love I have none.
"Look. Look at those flocks of birds emigrating south! 
They’re escaping with regular wing beats, crying farewell."
Tomorrow would be a good day to die 
Today a good tomorrow
Dying must be strange, nonsense life is strange
We wait for nothing yet nothing will come
I never hoped you would accept an invitation to my farewell party 
We wait for nothing yet nothing will come
Yes, like Fassbinder
Yes, like Veronica Voss

I owe my soul to the company store  





Finishing Line Press.  Book FAREWELL TO THE DUST, by C. S. Leaf avalible March 2008
www.FinishingLinePress.com

Copyright © Craig Leaf | Year Posted 2006

Details | Craig Leaf Poem

Untitled (Parts 3, 4 & 5) Please Comment (Read Untitled 1 & 2 First)

Please read "Untitled" (part 1 & 2 first)

III

Never are the odious so aware
Of their shortcomings as when facing Madonna
      	so fine and fair
My Madonna...
I sat reflecting while inspecting my Madonna
As she twirled a lilly in her hair
while playfully directing
a meandering blind holy men
in the avenues of America
seeking, Athens 
as if expecting
	Virility
		Fertility
summer twice a year 
standing with basket
desperate to catch, a muse's tear
insolent, in eclipsed brilliance

In the elongated, exaggerated
shadow of dead poets' illumination
here I stand as a shadow against truth
Subjected to my piety in blinding ruth
Do stars they gazed on still remain 
glistening through the cosmic, extragalactic plains
or does just the light now travel
fleeing some still darker stain
a requiem and universes' past
or 'haps an epithelium... 
as we children are told
"that mystic things in time remain" 
reflecting on waters still lustrous
Reflecting over all the tributaries of the Mississippi

A generation lost
and I -- lost in hindsight
Rage, rage and endless blight
in dreaming escape day n' days of 
a lifetimes endless death, in love 

IV

To their reflected desires
of my own as well
	Obsessed
		Obsessed
to Consume the night
and empty nest

To Madonna's purity and ideological reflection
But how can I convince divinity’s rejection?
Should I wish the atomic explosive asunder –
Universal extraction; Infinite blunder
Once and finally to come across
The cosmic oceanic ebb
Its odious and conduit web
If only to immerse my head 
Beneath the transfigured river bed
Deep in Heavens ethereal spring
Where chained like the sea
I in sleeping shall sing
...or dream of singing sweet, to thee

V

Singing here like the burning Arnaut
And Romanticism last fleeting thought

Copyright © Craig Leaf | Year Posted 2007



Details | Craig Leaf Poem

November

In November limbs are still
Thin against the dying light
From sylvan vale to hill
Poised in forms for us, contrite

Pergola bare with thorn 
The knuckles of the hemlock worn
Expansive loomed leaf arbor's torn
Preparing for winters blight
in hibernation

To discover the divination
of dendrology, their eschatology and escape
Mystic trees as old as hills they nest 
Did they raise the earth abreast
and create
Hill and dale, with leaves and root's end-trail
These trees beyond date
and chronology

Ever older, wiser growing,
love, loss and dying things
they who see all and knowing
of all things past that chronos sings

If I could hear, what would they tell?
Of all history's, fair and fell? 
And all the tails of old recreate
Dare I impel, and test, 
The gods with such haughty inquests
Demanding a divination of truth?

No, never will I know their tale
And happier be, beneath the arbor vale
         in summers sweet
                   or bit by winter's tooth 
Seek thou? No!
There is no sooth.


Finishing Line Press.  Book FAREWELL TO THE DUST, by C. S. Leaf avalible March 2008
www.FinishingLinePress.com

Copyright © Craig Leaf | Year Posted 2007

Details | Craig Leaf Poem

The Great Attercop

Wandering the cobbled roads of Boston’s misty night
The stars spun like dew in spiders’ web glistening with delight
Low I came to a bridge, stone and fair and white
Over Charles’ river dark it reflected pale and bright

Looking off the bridge of stone, at the river ever changing
The starry night, the bridge of white, fragmented, rearranging   
As if under Charles' influence, every molecule trembled in its ebb
Which finally shook a sparkling star from night's illusive web

I watched the falling star dive, it dove with fiery might   
When a great shadowed beast sprung across the night
It could not escape the Attercop who fed with great delight
She who spins the starry night with four pair spindly legs
And month by month rolls the moon, her hanging sack of eggs
 
When the moon 'gins to wain her children descend and brightly sing 
Filling the night sky anew, with stars, which hang from silky string
And if her children attempt escape, to dart or flash away
She scoops them in ominous jaws, like crocodile's prey
Fear the Great Attercop in night, for dire is her sting
And on wandering children verdant, she is known to spring

Stay my child in your bed, sleep neat until the dawn  
For it is the flesh of infancy she feeds her offspring on

Finishing Line Press.  Book FAREWELL TO THE DUST, by C. S. Leaf avalible March 2008
www.FinishingLinePress.com

Copyright © Craig Leaf | Year Posted 2006

Details | Craig Leaf Poem

Ulysses

ULYSSES

Full fathom five thy father lies;
Of his bones are coral made;
Those are pearls that were his eyes:
Nothing of him that doth fade
But doth suffer a sea-change
Into something rich and strange.
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell:
Ding-dong.
Hark! now I hear them, ding-dong, bell. 1

Cross legged I await 
Heavens beams, to embrace
to bundle to lash with twine
	drifting wood 
While the waves whip the beache's grace

I hold the smooth forked roots in hand 
Roots in time can break stone 
and mold it like the water is able 
Water that feeds the root 
Sun that feeds the fingers

I ask not much old sea
Dashing dead against stones
Barnacles tear at flesh and vessel
low birds impale the shell
to eat salty flesh

Everything and nothing is water
Eternal yet fleeting
Comforting yet cold
Supportive yet unwieldy
Reflective yet transparent
Hungry yet quenchless

Ye oldest mare 
whose rising breasts swell
and hungry opens cavernous
to consume both breast and beam
 
Her victims wash about my feet

Ripen, swell abreast
resign this earth

Death who she knows best
who winged I've seen
who in decay keeps fertile, she
who drinks endless of streams immortal

I await her sea-nymphs call for me
Though I alone shall not quell
her endless thirst, 
	when half submersed.
Ding-dong.
Hark! now I hear them, ding-dong, bell

Deus pasit corvos*


Tempest 1. 2   (1)
God feeds the ravens*


Finishing Line Press.  Book FAREWELL TO THE DUST, by C. S. Leaf avalible March 2008
www.FinishingLinePress.com

Copyright © Craig Leaf | Year Posted 2007


Book: Reflection on the Important Things