As Soup Does Not Allow Such A Lengthy Post,
I had to present the entire dedication in this blog.....
(1.) First dedication poem
In Our Feasts, We Both Drank Lover's Wine,
Second poets tribute series, third poet Gerard Manley Hopkins
Blood that entices with its red-glow appeal
Its bright warmth into a wanton soul seeks
She that drove passion, ate my youthful zeal
Relishing that my words, were soft and meek!
Yet I, a victim lost and thus spellbound
Wore blinded eyes and heard no chains's rattles
Nor heard black-laced music's deep, darkest sound
Hid in imprison heart, raging battles!
There in nightmarish glee, her pleasures sought
She her tortures relished and thus she sang
Lover, thy soul my back-heart has now bought
From misery, my deepest desires sprang!
Yet I, in romantic delusion's maze
Saw only her bright-cast angelic wings
While pleading for more in a lustful haze
Heard I, paradise calls, dark sirens sing!
Hot blood flowed through my sacrificial veins
Sensual lips kissed my hot-desires rose
Only Love's blindness, can such lust explain
Passions did leap, seeing her naked pose!
Her romantic eyes shown to me as pearls
And her smile, a beautiful angel's face
Both causing me to forget other girls
In dark state, all reality replace!
In our feasts, we both drank lover's sweet wine
she said, "share we sweet wines of divine Gods"
Saw not, hers was blood-red, black as night mine
As did her touch, lustful spirit so prod!
Winter soon came, with its dark gloom and cold
Yet from first snows revealing lights did shine
Was then I saw, a monster's face so old
And knew on my flesh, it did with gusto dine!
Seeking help, to break her accursed spell
Sought I, dedicated priest to help give
That day, my story I did to him tell
Begged him to free me so I could live!
His true words, they woke a sad, dying soul
Open eyes, this dark world begin to see
It seeks to destroy, early death its goal
Using its, dark she-demons such as she!
By newfound faith, command it to depart
Order it back to its hellish dark pits
Say with faith, "I your black-curse tear apart"
To your realm go, as so your kind befits!
In a flash, sun again its bright rays sent
Blinded eyes could now reality see
Release came as dark lusts, I did repent
As divine forgiveness had set me free!
That joyful night, yellow moon again rose
For the first time, in many darkened years
In its light, a sweeter path I then chose
On my knees, I gave thanks with falling tears!
Robert J. Lindley,
Rhyme, ( O' Darkness, Within Thy Black Curse I Was Once Imprisoned )
Second poets tribute series, third poet Gerard Manley Hopkins
Note" The primary Hopkins poems that inspired these two poems, shown below,
(1.) "I Wake And Feel The Fell Of Dark, Not Day" by Gerard Manley Hopkins
(2.) "Moonless darkness stands between" by Gerard Manley Hopkins
(3.) "Carrion Comfort" by Gerard Manley Hopkins
(4.) " God's Grandeur" by Gerard Manley Hopkins
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(5.) https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/gerard-manley-hopkins
(6.) https://poets.org/poet/gerard-manley-hopkins
Some Poems By This Famous Poet
Carrion Comfort
Not, I'll not, carrion comfort, Despair, not feast on thee;
Not untwist—slack they may be—these last strands of man
In me ór, most weary, cry I can no more. I can;
Can something, hope, wish day come, not choose not to be.
But ah, but O thou terrible, why wouldst thou rude on me
Thy wring-world right foot rock? lay a lionlimb against me? scan
With darksome devouring eyes my bruisèd bones? and fan,
O in turns of tempest, me heaped there; me frantic to avoid thee and flee?
Why? That my chaff might fly; my grain lie, sheer and clear.
Nay in all that toil, that coil, since (seems) I kissed the rod,
Hand rather, my heart lo! lapped strength, stole joy, would laugh, chéer.
Cheer whom though? The hero whose heaven-handling flung me, fóot tród
Me? or me that fought him? O which one? is it each one? That night, that year
Of now done darkness I wretch lay wrestling with (my God!) my God.
Gerard Manley Hopkins, 1918
I Wake and Feel the Fell of Dark, Not Day
I wake and feel the fell of dark, not day.
What hours, O what black hours we have spent
This night! what sights you, heart, saw; ways you went!
And more must, in yet longer light's delay.
With witness I speak this. But where I say
Hours I mean years, mean life. And my lament
Is cries countless, cries like dead letters sent
To dearest him that lives alas! away.
I am gall, I am heartburn. God's most deep decree
Bitter would have me taste: my taste was me;
Bones built in me, flesh filled, blood brimmed the curse.
Selfyeast of spirit a dull dough sours. I see
The lost are like this, and their scourge to be
As I am mine, their sweating selves, but worse.
Gerard Manley Hopkins ,1918
God's Grandeur
The world is charged with the grandeur of God.
It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
And wears man's smudge and shares man's smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.
And for all this, nature is never spent;
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs--
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.
Gerard Manley Hopkins, 1918
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My 2nd poem for Second Series poets tributes- Hopkins
(2.) Second dedication poem
Eternal Is Your Dark Toll, I Have Songs Yet To Be Sung
Death is a vulture, its sharp talons dripping black and red
Rampages in all cultures, appetite very well fed
Noiseless it oft glides, even into healthiest people's beds
Nobody from its touch hides, as within Fate's path it treads!
O'death seek not this mortal soul, nor this body too young
Eternal is thy dark toll, I have songs yet to be sung!
Death in repose, I dare thee to walk surface of the sun
This dare I chose, as its heat may toast thy blackened buns
Such humor I send thy way, and with it no clever guile
Write I this today, hoping postpone thy visit a while!
O'death seek not this mortal soul, nor this body too young
Eternal is thy dark toll, I have songs yet to be sung!
If these words stay not thy hand, nor touch thy cold, frosted heart
I pray heart to withstand, needless worries on my sad part
So come as you are as you may, tis' but fated release
Bring steaks I'll pay, furnish even the pan and the grease!
O'death seek not this mortal soul, nor this body too young
Eternal is thy dark toll, I have songs yet to be sung!
Robert J. Lindley,
Rhyme, ( A Conversation With Fate And Its Black Handed Ally )
Dedication poem, Honoring Gerard Manley Hopkins