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Poems By Poet Warren Falcon  10/26/2014 12:07:57 AM
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Warren Falcon   Best Poems From
  WARREN FALCON (04/23/52 - xxxx)
 
 
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  153.     

O Mighty Beyond the Chimney Yet Under the Bed - One Address To the Lord After Berryman's 'Eleven' Astutter

for Andrew

'I don't try to reconcile anything' said the poet at eighty,
'This is a damned strange world.' - John Berryman*


I beg (as did Berryman as did
also Job) Do not give up on me
drag me (gently) pull me (tug
tenderly) gather me (dew me
softly cover) do not delay
Shepherding (O Numberless One,
Creator of the Majestic Zero
beyond all counting, that I may
be beyond 'the Ninety and the Nine'**
so) woo me (though a cold bed I
am and make, though human hand
pen/paw at Thee O Mighty beyond
the chimney yet under the bed

yet (pillow me) pillow me plead I
'that my chaff might fly'*** and my
eyes dimned be turned toward what
glimmer remains of corners dark in
recessing mind, O Lord, would have
You take (mine) mind shake the
stiffness necked naked hairs numbered
over all the fading flesh of me

Now (love even me/sand-one-grain)
let Blood stain to Purity; what once
is rendered endures, that one moment,
may, where self-will wilts, (only)
You do what You Will to in me instill

Einfall****

You spill then to me
in torrent, rinse, fling out drear
dark (say it Elizabethan) Sin,
score yet that long longing for
You wrung: Look. Shake me out.
Drained (I am) for wanting that
You (might YOU) Force me far
to me Freshest Be

What hands I have cannot grasp
or reach (draw You in)

for now my tongue must serve
all that (or type or pen thin
ink (India*****) to (You/Not You)
convey impossibly


<<<<<<<<<<<<<O>>>>>>>>>>>>>


* - from the second of 'Eleven Addresses to the Lord' by John Berryman
[you may read the entire 'Addresses' here, copy and paste:

http: //falconwarren.blogspot.com/2010/12/eleven-addresses-to-lord-john-berryman.html

** King James Bible (Cambridge Ed.) Matthew 18: 12: 'How think ye? if a man have an hundred sheep, and one of them be gone astray, doth he not leave the ninety and nine, and goeth into the mountains, and seeketh that which is gone astray? '

*** a phrase from Gerard Manley Hopkins' poem, 'Carrion Comfort'

****India Ink [from wikipedia online] is a simple black ink once widely used for writing and printing and now more commonly used for drawing...originated in China, the ink was brought to India in the 4th Century where additional elements were added to the ink process.

***** Einfall - German word with meanings several, 'invasion, incursions (into) , ' 'clever idea, ' 'notion, whim.'
 
Warren Falcon
   
 

   
   
 

  154.     

O See My Little Red Shoes, Bright Bright, O Clap Your Hands For Me - What I Once Became And Now Still Am

for Beti

...copperhead* strikes the
chest, venom close to the
heart, ill effects in a country
ditch in the arms of a young
man whose last name is the
Spanish moon, straw beneath
me a place to die, Moon's
face in daylight, oddly
detailed, clear, a smile I
know to be a last horizon...

...the piano then, grandmother's
arthritic fingers, chipped keys,
a boy once in thrall of the moon
and an old hymn, familiar strings
out of tune...

...seriously ill, Medellin**,
a month there in blue parks
reading Lorca, and a Colombian
poet whose statue I daily saw
when still in serpent thrall
I earlier drift in and out,
Cartagena***, not a statue
of a man but a pig, and script
of a poet's lullaby in bronze,
a pig begging of humans
clapping hands, his bright
red shoes pleading for a lovely
girl with whom he may dance...

...sad fetching fountain,
evoked Medellin, enchanted
now-feverish fountain far
from serpent and sea, Little
Muneca**** at noon daily
comes to the bench, from
black pumice of Purace*****,
where I sit and write -

'O please buy my cherries,
dark rubies, sweet...tell
me the poem again, kind sir,
the poem about the little
pig again, the shoes red red,
the need to dance the precice
feminine tred, the far graceful
Gulf of pacing rhymes where
dapper terns chase, puffing
chests then gayly dip their
beaks to kiss the spume,
gallant caballeros, pale
green brine burst into shine...'

...one more time, the last,
my departure, once more the
tilted head, poem-spilling
to one small ear to hear the
distant unvisited sea, to
royally bow, smiling at now
outworn elegance, manners a
century too late, not quaint
(to the contrary) ,

'Wait, ' she says,


'Not goodbye. Never.


I dance with you forever, little pig.

I polish your metal shoes of red leather,

tiny espejos - mirrors - for toes,

vincapervinca - periwinkles - on

the heals to tap.


Always you are here on the black

pumice bench to buy and eat my

cherries sweet, dark and ruby red.


You are always, man pale as the moon,

Sir Gringo, - giggles, winks, crosses

her little fingers behind her skirt -

Senor Mono Con Ojos Verde Que Siempre
Estan Llorando...

Mr. Monkey With Green Eyes
That Are Always Crying...'




*copperhead, a poisonous snake found in the USA

**Medellin, a city in Colombia, South America

***Cartagena, a coastal city in Colombia, South America

****Muneca/Munequita, 'Doll/Little Doll' in Spanish

*****Purace, an active volcano in Colombia, South America
 
Warren Falcon
   
 

   
   
 

  155.     

Observing Early Autumn Snow From An Upstairs Window

white feather boa

between limb crotches

winks through leaves


gold ginkgo glitter

over pedestrians below


a sudden flush of heat,

of love, and they don't

know why


isn't love always above us?
 
Warren Falcon
   
 

   
   
 

  156.     

October Night of Divas, East Tenth Street, New York City

for Brandon


A night of divas

stretched out
in the dark on
slow sofa fade

look out window
city lights

some fly one
frame to another

dark space square
between what is seen
then seen again

scratching belly, head, think -

Whatever became of Majestic,
his suicidal crocuses?

When did I marry Lonely?

can't recall

but fell kid-hard

backyard empty clothesline

silk slip one pin down

dip shyly in brick shadows

pornographic breezes.


I sing to knees now...


Beyond Manhattan Bridge

sudden heat lightening

a good night with cool rain

old vinyl Nyro**


needle scratches


done with song



<<<<<>>>>

**Laura Nyro, October 18,1947 - April 8,1997
Singer/songwriter in the 1960's until her untimely
death by cancer. Copy and paste this link to
listen to the song I was listening to which inspired
the above poem:

http: //www.youtube.com/watch? v=Q2PeqqNi9bA
 
Warren Falcon
   
 
 
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Poems By Poet Warren Falcon