I Can Bear This Because There Will Be Sleep
I can bear this because there will be sleep.
Whistles pierce the peace, yet sleep’s peace prevails,
always ahead of me; the climb, however steep,
will lift me where the silence never fails.
There be one last foot fall, one with no
successor, save successful sleep; no brood,
no sound, no sight, no dream, no wreck, no woe
obtrudes upon sleep’s perfect solitude,
a solitude that’s self-extinguishing,
bereft of monument, memorial,
bereft of fret, regret for anything,
bereft of all bereavement, burial.
I bear it as you watch me wail and weep
and rage and fail, because there will be sleep.
If Lost I Must Be
If lost I must be, pray let me be lost
in battle, not in traffic, not in thought,
not in cold calculation of the cost
of lifelong inactivity. Blot
my life out with a bullet, or a spear
not as I pull a stratagem, and not
as I surprise the flank, disrupt the rear,
but as I bring the battle to the face of what
frustrates, infuriates and burns my soul.
Let me confront my killers, tooth and eye,
in mutual terror we both bring and feel,
and as I pay the price, I’ll take a toll,
and we will both learn what it means to die:
the murdered and the murderer congeal.
Integrity a Trembling Thread
Integrity a trembling thread
apendulating rectitude,
The void below beckons in dread.
Swing, swing up into a happy mood.
A foothold on the face of time
verticulates the clock’s sad face.
Your hand grips tight your mood sublime,
clings to a permanent disgrace.
Yet gracefully you face the mess,
heart shimmering with gratitude —
your chance to come clean and profess
your happy, happy happy mood.
Balancing on joy’s trapeze,
gaze laughingly upon your bed
where you will rest and take your ease.
Apendulate above your head,
(integrity a trembling thread,)
suspends the sword of Damocles.
It’s Your Two Eyes that Slay Me Suddenly
It’s your two eyes that slay me suddenly,
The beauty of them I cannot sustain;
I fall, glad sacrifice, time and again,
And each deliverance is heavenly.
Seeking this end, secretly, hungrily,
I search the reaches of your eyes’ domain,
Where, nonpareil twin potentates, they reign,
Clear and resplendent, altogether lovely.
As darkling faults mar fine crystalline glass,
I mar the panorama they peruse —
One simple glance destroys and purifies.
And time and time again it comes to pass,
A happy, happy privilege to choose —
To cease, to fall before those fatal eyes.