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Poems By Poet Warren Falcon  7/12/2014 6:01:13 PM
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Warren Falcon   Best Poems From
  WARREN FALCON (04/23/52 - xxxx)
 
 
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  149.     

Pasturale Lullabies - Fragments Of Nocturnal Song From A Child's Abandoned Grave

Lullaby One

Remembered gait of young ponies toward
the spring's sweet water


Remembered laughter of the frail daughter there
beside the fields sweet grasses


The daughter, as the water, passes into silence


Lullaby Two

Distant crows sound the morning field beyond pasture


Dew murmurs names upon passing grasses


still, the woods echo


Below
a stream's gash extends

slowly suspires erasing dimensions
of width and depth


Lullaby Three

Blue the waters at a distance

Blue the tails of otters

Blue the eyelids of sleeping beasts
nested beneath the earth


Lamentation Song

Dear one

Dear one

They've mown the hill

The grass remains


The modern scythe and sickle
felled the frailer blades but stained
their metals green with your name

Now the sun alone shines

burns that hewn spot where I first
learned to love your passing

where I watched your leaving
grow wild and lovely,
untamed beside the stream

learned to hear the quiet there
where now a cycle is begun


A new season of your death
is running rampant again to know
the blades of time and men
 
Warren Falcon
   
 

   
   
 

  150.     

Perservering of Palms

for Karthik, once again,
'The light foot hears you
and the brightness begins...' - Pindar


that salt adheres to the palm
proclaiming only this
that purchase requires both
sweat and the one hidden pearl
of scraped touch

much there is in the hand
bequeathed;
beneath the thigh the grit
burns smooth the groove
where you lay

your wonder - that purchase
of kisses, too, with salt,
crystalline, rimed - is hard

Timed little breath-hairs,
inscaped light, red, turned
the more out in layered traces

delicate,

veins strain the
more for tongues' hard press

tapered fingers flame
that these lips may chaff/
chafe more the love
from the grain which
skin frames from
cloudless scansions

Obdurate Sun,
unclothe now,
apparel dispose,
appear beyond
familiar feet,
cast off,
at last unremembered

legs arc,
display,
sunrise splay
without restraint
tangled limbs arch,

on summit burn
where doffed shoes
obey Flame which
does not snuff nor cinder

Kindled limbs
do not go out
do not ash hot
to powder
nor the colder grow

though each is made distinct,
distinguished, though each
is extended, extinguished in
the other's contradiction
neither brother or lover

but both
be perseverance
of palms,
of salt

Preserve.
 
Warren Falcon
   
 

   
   
 

  151.     

Photo From Lost Days At Stillborn Falls

You see them all morning while driving,
broken cars, omens, those towns you drive
through graveyards now. Your one good
tooth a headache, windshield wipers break in
the storm. Road side glass cuts your feet.
You curse your shoes in the back seat,
fumble with blades in the rain.

One good town out of six and that's the one
you leave behind where your shorts hang content
at home on the line, back yard neighbors
speculating over lingerie with black lace.
The sun can barely contain itself.
The mail man wishes he was me.

The story is Jalise - I was nearby - she dripped in
soaked from rain announcing, 'I need to get
out of these wet clothes and into a dry martini.'
For me? only a towel to dry her and nothing more.

I swear, Jalise, pornographic peekaboo, hide
and seek, I'm drunk again thinking of you,
how I cut my baby teeth on Stillborn glass,
feet bleeding on always wet roads. One mile
out of two I'm thinking of you, how you wouldn't
let me love you, just hold your hips in jeans,
'just friends'. Your black lace is still a pain.
Five men out of six would call you 'b*tch' or worse.

At the laundromat now a woman in nylons stoops.
I drive by with a wave, another town, same storm,
a study in shields and blades wondering about
nylon mysteries, hand washed, bent woman's
name turning over and over again in spin and
dry cycles of drink.
 
Warren Falcon
   
 

   
   
 

  152.     

Photos of War - From The Encampment Of Heartstrife

'like unto like'
but do not say it
my forbidden simile

Photo of War - 1

no milk for her
child the nipple
droops a sad
thing while dogs
run wildly about


Photo of War - 2

Geese tell of return

the burning village
counts its embers
measured in hands


Photo of War - 3

there are treaties

generals

prisoners and
gilded boxes
exchanged

then the
Mongol spices


Photo of War - 4

boys
muddy feet

cheer
chase behind
battalions
innocent fists
raising threat

for them
such regrettable
punctuation


Photo of War - 5

Hold Fast
the greatest
among us

he knows
only war which
makes him great
in one thing
alone

I know
of waiting

what the horizon
safe keeps behind
its ear

of love, yes


Photo of War - 6

your top knot my hand
unknotting

your long hair my
scented bedding

sudden
startled
wildness of laps


in the vase
so very
still

a clutch of stamens


arrival at last -

the fallen petal
of your navel


Photo of War - 7

Dream again

of moonlight

of sewing

that work of warriors -

needling of seams


I know the pattern well
so near to hand
a blessing


let the dead bury
theirs


Photo of War - 8

his face
sleeps upon my
belly

I do not breathe
do not wish to disturb


Dawn just

light fingers
trace in circles

each

breast

what tickles
but a sigh interrupted


Photo of War - 9

In your dream

a gentle
boat slowly rises
with waves

the gentler subsiding

slides up
my torso
to keel
to kiss
to vow

never again to go to war


Photo of War - 10

liar

already
the men are heavily gathering
new arrows hot for flesh

only for yours I am


Photo of War - 11

captured

fortressed


a better world

between the teeth

on tips of tongues

on lip perimeters

strung by kisses


Photo of War - 12

hunger

paper curtains
for ink yearn

their brush strokes
burning stories
to bear



a fly
strolls a realm
just on the other
side of light

only silhouettes

guesses too

thrills at motion so
slight framed in
window gray



slackening skin
the better
when simple
loves caress



in love with
small things
keep what
is seen where
hides the wind


Photo of War - 13

only this

to take a quiet supper
to hear the dipper spilling
too full
the deep well
yielding

knowing a hand of dew
brings such sweetness wet, cool

wet


From childhood our song:

Hurry awake sleepy bee
Softly sings the breeze

To sweetness we are called
when the sun high shall be
freshened with tears our parting


Photo of War - The Last Entry

behind the barred door wait

a lock of wound hair

silk pouch of my gated heart

it will be a hard arrow to pierce it


 
Warren Falcon
   
 
 
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Poems By Poet Warren Falcon