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Steve
07-23-2007, 11:06 PM
http://thedarktower.net/forums/uploads/post-59-1185260723.jpg

Steve
07-23-2007, 11:12 PM
This is for Leanna.

Always and forever.

Steve
07-23-2007, 11:14 PM
THE CIRCLE (I)




The circle begins, seeking justice,
seeking reason, order in chaos.
Justice turns false, reason nonexistent,
chaos consumes order, all is lost.
It ends where it began, again seeking justice,
reason and order, Now, against the circle.

Steve
07-23-2007, 11:17 PM
MARANATHA





Day and night, year by year.
I wait patiently to find you here.
The one who fills my days with wonder
Who fills my nights with fiery passion.
Loving me, caring for me, she knows my every mood
Who loves me for my every move.


I wait for you alone tonight.
Will you come and change my life?
Love me, hold me,
guard me, treasure me.
Give me songs, and write me poetry.



Iíll wait for you alone tonight.
When will you come?

Give me a sign.

I love you.

Steve
07-23-2007, 11:18 PM
BROKEN WORLD






The trout in the brook and streams
In the glowing golden current where once they swam
Now forever lost in the murk
Slurrying in the water black with soot.

The end
This is how it came to be
Of a thing that once had been believed
But now a mere shadow of what its former self
A shell

Now they build towers to heaven to reach God
But God is not watching them
So they build for nothing
But yet they keep building up
And up
And up


Where were you that I lived with?
On this maze that we call life you were mine
The alpha and the omega
The first and the last
The beginning and now this end
This end


This end.

Steve
07-23-2007, 11:19 PM
LAMENTATIONS (I)







The black barges crossing the sickly river
Gaunt riders on black demonic horses
The bodies hanging broken
from the stout limbs of trees
Herds of swine thundering
A plague from the Old Testament
(written by Homer, didnt you know?)


A boot in the end of its lifespan
Crossing the line
Replete with the dark and fear
I dont want the bloodguilt

A circle of idiots stoking a fire
Them drooling over the spit

An infant skewered there roasted to black
There is no sin, only hunger
yet there is pleasure.

Help.

Steve
11-26-2007, 11:43 AM
In the Garden of Eden, the Garden of Gethsemane


come away O godless child
a lustrum of life's waters pass before thee
a river of dried blood into the willows
the sickly discharge of diseased loins
grotesque urchins
orphaned spawn of a slum womb
into a wicked wicked wicked world

the face of God, face of a red Christ,
a butchered sun, a molten moon
a decade gone, a year to come
I taste the blood
sour, salty, without remedy.

until the sun goes down
a stoop-shouldered descent
a bird shot from the sky
it lies flapping in the blooded dust
black blood
god's blood

come away come away O come away now
come away come away come

Storyslinger
11-27-2007, 07:05 AM
Simply amazing

Steve
11-27-2007, 08:03 AM
PORTRAIT OF AN ARTIST AS A HANGED MAN



Long had he labored beneath the burden
Of his kinfolk's lustful ways
His family tree a wickerwork of incest and degradation
An ancient dead oak rising twisted from the soul of the earth
Another tree he finds himself at
Ravaged by a storm
A gallows-tree at the edge of the ruined field
The mad mob with shotguns socked under their arms
They all seem to bend at him worshipfully
A hundred lumping shadows circling about him
The dead man hanged
It's a shady tree, boy, look ye at
The corpse swinging madly from the gallows
The face blanched white like a ghost's
Lifetimes lost in queer congress
The body cocooned in death
a bird skull
a bible illustration
downtrodden
one eye cocked to the heavens
beseeching the sky
begging God's tender mercies.
Torchlight
No room for an angel, a devil, only reapers
The crows come
Now the crows come
They feed, pecking at his face
At his eyes
The gallows-tree groans as it surrenders to his weight
And he falls
falls
falls
Into hell.

Storyslinger
11-27-2007, 08:04 AM
Did you just get one copy published?

Steve
11-27-2007, 08:08 AM
Of poems? Not yet.

Storyslinger
11-27-2007, 08:09 AM
I see, you plan to though, right?

Steve
11-27-2007, 08:11 AM
Yes. Do you think they're publishable?

Storyslinger
11-27-2007, 08:12 AM
I can say that I would buy it, yes, I think they could make it in the market

Steve
11-27-2007, 08:14 AM
Well thank ye, sirrah:



Exod, The Man and the Boy



(from the barren belly of my mama i should not have)
I gushed from her, great bloody thing torn from the very pit of her
Feed me
O feed death to me!
I starve O I must not
Fuckers
Do you not know, do you not see?
The flies hum earnestly in the world
all in need of attention
Frogs croak from outside
Cicadas buzz
A car horn blares in the faraway
I draw my first breath
My first
A-A-A-A-AHHH!!!
and she draws me down
down
down under
wrenching me free of her at last
black ribbons of blood all about me
caking my skinned body
A-A-A-A-AHHH!!!
I look at (her she it) my mother for the first time
my unseen caretaker
her pale arms and face
tiny breasts swollen like overripe oranges
her wasted belly from which I was ripped away like a tumor
a plague
misbegotten
life that flickers, life that screams,
rooted in that cataclysmic birth of mine
gleaned, gleamed
the rise and fall of her breath
my breath no longer
the static the length of me and my
(hate)
all the shrieks and not a cloud in sight
a slobbering bundle am I
oh Mary mother of me
mother of God
mother of all
the shouts are manic now, squeals of terror
hellish
hell
snake fizz
bugs buzzing in outrage
infernal static
A-A-A-A-AHHH!!!

Steve
11-27-2007, 01:17 PM
The Foundling Queen





This little one found in the woods
They take her home huddled about her
She is baptized Abagail, this little one
A foundling queen she will be.

They paint a portrait for the little one
They sing a little tune
Oh I had a dream that I could fly
The foundling queen at my side.

Her fifth year on earth they prime her to be
The foundling queen she was meant to be
When the sun curled above the clouds
A queer little smile for the foundling queen.

Something of deviled reason
Angelists come hooded in white
Turned blooded with violent deeds!
O wicked little foundling queen!

You have committed no sin in being here!
Tell me, why have you done this
O little foundling queen?
Don't cry for me, cry for the dead.

This child of sin, spawn of blood
Dazzled in the dust under the blinding sun.
Spawn of stone, spawn of death
O foundling queen's shadow on the sun.

She spent those years in a smothering scrum
Of mothers fussing, clucking like hens
And soon her fear of the other children grew
In the marble eyes of the foundling queen.

The crones that bathed her, dreamers perched about
Things to know, things to learn,
O the playground where she would be wont to swing
So went the days of the foundling queen.

Then one day the rain came to pass
Spewing forth a deluge upon the valley roads
Vile and stinking slashes of bilge
On the home of the foundling queen.

O the child-harlot, the slut-saint of Our lord
This heavenly luminary of the custodians
Insane, mad, deluded followers!
Trapped in the gaze of the foundling queen.

This the year of our Lord who gives a damn
Suckling on the shriveled teat of sanity
They come with madness in their eyes
To the nursery of the foundling queen.

They burst the door apart, with axes and clubs
Slavering masses converged on the foundling queen
With piercing shrieks and cries of murder
So ends the life of the foundling queen.

Storyslinger
11-28-2007, 10:03 AM
These are great

Hannah
11-28-2007, 10:09 AM
These are really good. I especially liked The Foundling Queen and In the Garden of Eden, the Garden of Gethsemane. I would buy this book.

Storyslinger
11-28-2007, 10:10 AM
You've got two buyers, I would consider it

Steve
11-28-2007, 10:58 AM
Well thank you, Hannah and Storyslinger.

Steve
11-28-2007, 11:08 AM
Song of the Wandering Madman




I am the thorn in the foot, I am the thief in the night,
I am the worm at the root, I am a blur in the sight.
I am the rat in the wall, the madman at the gate,
I am the ghost in the hall, damned for all to hate.

I am the rust on the corn, I am the rot on the wheat,
Laughing man's labor to scorn, weaving a web for his feet.
I am molder and blood and blight, danger and death and decay;
The mark of the rain by night, the blast of the sun by day.

I warp and wither with drought, I work in the swamp's foul yeast;
I bring the plague from the south and the leprosy in from the east.
I rend from the hemlock boughs wine steeped in the petals of dooms;
Where the fat black serpents drowse I gather the rotten blooms.

Never the sun goes forth, never the moon glows red,
But out of the south or the north, I come with the slavering dead.
I come with hideous spells, black chants and ghastly tunes;
I have looted the hidden hells and plundered the lost black moons.

There was never a king or priest to cheer me by word or look,
There was never a man or beast in the bloodblown ways I took.
There were crimson gulfs unplumbed, there were black wings over a sea,
There were pits where mad things drummed, and foaming blasphemy.

There were vast ungodly tombs where slimy monsters dreamed;
There were clouds like bloodened plumes where unborn demons screamed.
There were ages dead to Time, and lands lost out of Space;
There were adders in the slime, and a dim unholy Face.

Oh, the heart in my breast turned stone, and the brain froze in my skull --
But I won through, I alone, and poured my chalice full
Of horrors and dooms and spells, black buds and bitter roots --
From the hells beneath the hells, I bring you my deathly fruits.

Jean
11-28-2007, 11:12 AM
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Storyslinger
11-28-2007, 12:29 PM
:thumbsup::thumbsup::thumbsup:

Hannah
11-28-2007, 12:52 PM
that's a badass poem, sir. it flows so perfectly.

CPU
11-28-2007, 01:26 PM
Song of the Wandering Madman is outstanding work.

Hannah's critique is 100% right on the money!

Frunobulax
11-28-2007, 03:12 PM
You know how I feel about your stuff Steve--and this collection thus far is no different. At least 3 buyers now.

Steve
11-30-2007, 10:20 PM
Well say thankya.

Steve
11-30-2007, 10:22 PM
Sketch






Looking out these barred windows
I know what it is to be considered mad.
Outside this place
(this place? what place?)
The sun shines merrily
The birds sing in their blue heaven
(blue haven)
And killers are free
free
to indulge themselves.

I am not with them.

In here I am bound.
The long shadows of this gated cell
Fall on me in crossing patterns . . .
And the world spins idly outside,
Unaware of the truly sinister forces at work.

They put me in here
So they could keep me close at hand.
No walking free for the mad.
We all float here --
One way or another.

Our jailors want the reassurance
That we have been tamed
And are no longer truly alive
Before they release us.
The only way to escape these walls,
Is to be changed:
Impulses subdued . . .
Desires averted . . .
Urges left to starve.

Prescriptions let some of us roam serenely outside these walls,
To the places where no one can touch us.
For others it is the hope of release that keeps them free.
And still . . .

There are those lucky few
Who manage to escape these walls unchanged,
Securely fitted in bags deemed for the morgue.

Those small places underneath
Where all men go.

I will fly soon enough.
I have had my stay here
And I will gladly take my leave of these walls.
There are more pressing matters on the outside
That deserve my attention.

Steve
12-03-2007, 11:16 AM
Demons



In the small recesses of the mind
Demons wait to be unleashed upon the world.
The deviance of man is seen, unshielded
And the Wraths are loosed upon us all.

Who can know the powerful forces at work?
Who can say for certain what is to come?
As for me, I await the inevitable
And pray for us all.

She-Oy
12-03-2007, 02:39 PM
Um, wow. I rarely read poetry. It just something that has never really gotten to my heart and soul for some reason, but for what it is worth...I REALLY REALLY enjoy reading your work.

Something interesting is churning inside of you and the way you release it is quite good and unique.

Steve
12-03-2007, 09:28 PM
*bows deeply in gratitude*

Storyslinger
12-04-2007, 08:05 AM
Great stuff

Steve
12-04-2007, 08:11 AM
Gracias, Story. I'm working on my Southern Gothic book right now, but I've got a shitload of poems waiting.

Storyslinger
12-04-2007, 08:12 AM
Sounds Great, can't wait

Steve
12-20-2007, 06:07 PM
IN ARCADIA EGO



The evergreen, the mountain sky
The river and the laurel tree
The breath that passes from you to me
Still hanging in the air
The mahogany, the ash and hickory
Faeries dancing in a fantasy
The dusks and dawns, the suns and moons
In your eyes, sparkled in your hair.

And she speaks to me
She speaks sweetly to me
O she speaks to me
And she whispers in my ear

John Proctor hangs for his pride
from the gallows-tree
Ernest Hemingway died of a suicide
the reason why a mystery
St Peter nailed to an X-shaped cross
with his head hanging down to hell
And Ben Franklin bleeds his oath across
the scar of the Liberty Bell.

Well the music swells and all the world goes still
And the earth opens from above
And a host of cupids descend to the earth
In the wondrous guise of Love.

And she speaks to me
O yes she speaks to me
She speaks sweetly to me
Again she whispers in my ear

Well Doc Holliday coughed till blood came out
he was damned by his last words
And da Vinci wondered how to go about
sharing the sky with the birds
Judge Holden sits naked in the jakes
and says he will forever exist
While Bob Dylan falls from his bike and breaks
His neck on the road numbered sixty six

All fear does subside
All hate forever gone
And how fate must decide
For us what must be done
And it's all right, O it's all right
I feel no pain, no strife
I stand with you, all day and night
Sharing with you my life

In the light of dusk
In the light of dusk
In the talcum light of dusk
And the burning dawn of love

And she speaks to me
She whispers to me
How sweetly she speaks to me
The words into my ear

O the gathering ends, the harvest ends,
the rewards of honest toil
Where the curve of the world's horizon bends
the sun melts there like oil
I plant all the love and all the seed
into my heart's golden soil
And there she was, in this field was she
as fair as a maiden royal.

All I hear is your voice
All I see is your lovely face
You have stopped my loneliness
Every drop, every trace
With your eyes so full of love
And your warmth knows no bounds
O please make it soon, beautiful darling
Please make it before the trumpet sounds

Make it before the trumpet sounds
Make it before the trumpet sounds
O make it before the trumpet sounds
Make it before the trumpet sounds
Before it sounds its final erumpent blast
Please speak it, speak it to me

She speaks to me, O she speaks to me
She speaks to me, yes she speaks to me
She speaks to me, my goddess speaks to me
"I love you" into my ear.

Storyslinger
12-21-2007, 10:32 AM
Great work! :thumbsup:

Steve
12-23-2007, 11:28 AM
THE COMING OF THE FLOOD



A palace of frosted spires and arches of glass,
Clouded towers and mirrored floors
Winding stairs and crystal walls
Vesper bells and porcelain doors

The clouds are brawling in heaven's vault
Roped in over gorge and spine
A cleaver of lightning leaps from above
Splitting the sky in a silver line

Men drops to their knees
Stretching their arms out to Him,
Weeping to God, asking for clemency,
But no word from the seraphim

The legions of God brawled in the sky
Rent lead bellies, tusks of fire,
A thunderbolt crackles and the planet rocks
An infernal backdrop of flame roaring higher, higher!

The air smokes and the thunderclouds battle
The sun and moon for the sky
And the masses flee for cover
As the vast black cloud starts to cry

Now from the tainted sky it falls
Belching forth from prehistoric storms
Great faceless beasts that scream and die
To be eaten by prehistoric worms

The flood
The flood has
The flood has come

alinda
12-23-2007, 11:33 AM
:clap: Great work Steve!

Steve
12-23-2007, 11:38 AM
*bows to Linda*

Thank you, thank you.

alinda
12-23-2007, 11:44 AM
hey Steve I was at the library the other day . They had a copy of SK
Blood & Smoke, have you heard it? Anyways I was thinking of you because in the one story the name of the main character was Steve Davis....did you know that?:ninja:

Steve
12-23-2007, 01:52 PM
*chuckles*

Yes, I'm aware of it. That's why I like "Lunch at the Gotham Cafe" so much.

Steve
12-23-2007, 09:34 PM
THE BALLAD OF JOHN ASHLEY



A dark man went down into the valley
In nineteen and thirty-three
Had with him a gun and a Stanley knife
And two jugs of corn whiskey
And the greedy flies hummed in a greedy black cloud
O! A-la-la-la-la-la!
O! A-la-la-la-la-la!
A boy was fishing in a nearby stream
That split through the dark valley
And the dark man asked him what's your name
And he said John Ashley
And the greedy flies hummed in a greedy black cloud
O! A-la-la-la-la-la!
O! A-la-la-la-la-la!
Well the dark man sat beside John Ashley
On the bank of the bubbling stream
He asked the boy who he was fishing with
And John Ashley said, "I'm fishing with me
And I guess you'll be fishing with me."
And the greedy flies hummed in a greedy black cloud
O! A-la-la-la-la-la!
O! A-la-la-la-la-la!
Well the dark man laughed at John Ashley
He looked at the waters shallow and sweet
He said, "Boy, I'm a stone killer and I mean it too
If you don't watch out around me
I'll kill you and rape your mama too."
And the greedy flies hummed in a greedy black cloud
O! A-la-la-la-la-la!
O! A-la-la-la-la-la!
"Is that a fact?" said John Ashley
Sitting there with gaping upturned face
And talking clear as a bell
"Well if you want you can kill me
But my mama's dead in hell
And I'm the only one left," said John Ashley
And the greedy flies hummed in a greedy black cloud
O! A-la-la-la-la-la!
O! A-la-la-la-la-la!
Well the dark man looked at John Ashley
He said, "Why now, John Ashley,
How did your mama end up in hell and dead?"
And John Ashley from down in the valley
Said, "I killed her and cut off her head
And if you don't watch out I'll do the same to ye."
And the greedy flies hummed in a greedy black cloud
O! A-la-la-la-la-la!
O! A-la-la-la-la-la!
Well the sun went down on the valley
In the year nineteen and thirty-three
And here comes little John Ashley
He's got with him a gun and a Stanley knife
And two jugs of corn whiskey
And the flies ain't humming any more
O! A-la-la-la-la-la!
O! A-la-la-la-la-la!
O the flies ain't greedy any more

Steve
12-23-2007, 10:36 PM
DEAR GOD



Dear God, I know You are there
I know You are there at my door

Dear God, I know You are the one
Who watches over me at night
Dear God, I love You as You love me
And keep me in Your glorious light
Now, dear God, the wise men say
I am tested in a terrible strife
I seek the know the big plan, God,
To know that it is right.

Please make it, O please
Please make it soon, dear God,
I feel like I'm nothing but a doll
On Your cosmic shelf

Powers and principalities
Thrones and dominions

What of You, God?
No matter what I want to know
Why do You wait, what is wrong?
The wolf is at the door with the cawing crow
It takes you under, takes you down
Takes you over . . . but lo!
Take heed, beware! The Devil's burn
And the flowers wilt as the evils grow

I love You O I love You
You can stop my loneliness
Take me into Your glory, into Your arms
From Your cosmic shelf

Cities burn and empires fall
Presidents die and trumpets call

I see! O I understand it all
Ah love kills and leaves me spent
I feel weak and sick and dirty
Exhausted and my spirit bent

O please make it soon
Please make it soon
Please God make it soon
For them O yes for them

The world ends
With a prayer on deaf ears

Steve
12-23-2007, 10:38 PM
THE STRANGER



Early evening in the pissing rain
And now here comes the roaring train
And the stranger rode behind it in vain
In the heavy folds of melancholia
He emptied his six-shooters out in wild salute
And turned round his horse with the spurs in his boots

The stranger bade welcome to the town
And the mayor came out with sash and crown
The peasants languored in the dark and the stranger frowned
What has come to pass in this town?
So he climbed from his horse and met with the man
Who stood in the saloon with a missing hand

Through the leaden folds of rain he said
All the children in town are dead
And all the pretty women have fled
And the dogs and cats have all gone wild
The men won't work, the ox won't pull
Excuse me, but my goddamn bladder's full

O the stranger cussed at them all
And read them riot all
Tell me where the fucking corral is
And don't give me any gall!

Well the mayor pointed him down the way
And the stranger rode to a livery bay
And he wasn't seen till the very next day
Shot in his own blood without remedy
And the mayor said, Well it's a cryin shame
And we never even got to know his name."

Steve
12-23-2007, 11:18 PM
OLD MAN GODBELLY TELLS A TALE


The year was nineteen and aught-nine
On a day hot as hell
When Jake Snow took a shotgun to his pa
And his mama and his sister Belle

He shot them all on a Sunday morn
As they sat over breakfast stew
His mama was dressed in her Sunday best
And little Belle was dolled up, too

When he was done he took up the gun
And went out without a sound
He stood out there in the burnin' sun
And pissed all over the ground

Well it was old Edith Lamb come to the house
And found 'em all lyin' slain
And she let out a yell that could be heard from hell
I couldn't even begin to explain

Well the police found Jake that very night
In the hills where he'd gone to ground
And he had his Springfield rifle in his arms
And cried "Brothers, I am found!"

The year was nineteen and aught-nine
On a night clear as a bell
That was when they shot ol' Jake Snow down
And I here he's a-burnin' in hell

Frunobulax
12-24-2007, 03:40 PM
What great works we've here.
All are fantastical, aye.
Keep up the good work!

Wuducynn
12-24-2007, 06:20 PM
Pappa Steve coming through with the amazing poetry.. :cool:

Steve
12-26-2007, 06:53 PM
To Fruno and El Crimson King:

I appreciate it, guys, I really do. I'm working on my first collection of poetry and one-act plays, which will be completed sometime in April. Right now I'm working on a short film, which will be done soon. Keep an ear out, guys!

Jon
12-27-2007, 12:05 AM
I wish I had the gile to put my works forth in such a manner Steve. You are the complete package.

Steve
12-27-2007, 12:49 AM
Aw, thanks for that, Jon. Don't sell yourself short, though; you're a fine wordsmith.

Steve
12-28-2007, 07:42 PM
ARIA THE GREAT AND TERRIBLE


Aria the Great and Terrible
Was a maiden fair and true
She lived on the shores of a great wide sea
So wild and O so blue
One day she met a sailor
When she was twenty-one
They set off on that great wide sea
On a rowboat in the sun
They rowed from the shoreline
And all was quiet there
And then he said of all the girls
Aria was the most fair
Aria the Great and Terrible
Was a maiden fair and true
She smiled and laughed and kissed him
Against that great wild blue
They stripped under that summer sun
And lay naked in that boat
And as he slept she drew a knife
And promptly cut his throat
O Aria the Great and Terrible
Was most terrible that day
She tossed the sailor overboard
And then she rowed away
O Aria the Great and Terrible
Was most terrible that day
They never found that poor man's body
And with murder she got away

Steve
12-28-2007, 08:07 PM
A RATHER LOVELY THING

O muse, tarry not beneath the umbra now
But further go until the umbra pass!

Woods in a dark, wandered in a cave
Two pilgrims in a fable swallowed up
In a great stone room with some gigantic beast
A black and ancient lake, wet flowstone walls
Diving down the deep stone flues
Of the rinstone pool
Soudns of a dull glass bell tolling tolling
Water drips drips and sings
Sings the years without cease
(sein und zeit)
(sie mussen schlafen aber Ich muss tanzen)
Borrowed time borrowed wolrd borrowed eyes
And we must grieve for it

O muse, hast thou ever looked upon the moon
A smirk on the face of heaven!
O the winking stars all gilt in silver!

The world grows colder, the night lies long
Keep moving
Keep moving to
(what?)
The fire
The fire O yes the fire
Flames sawing in the wind
Pale and deep and deep and pale
The bloodbeat of some dying thing
For each fire is our fire and our fire is
The first and last and ever to be
The fire of our love

O muse, the moon menaces the heavens
Thy terrible fang, a silvered scythe,
Flung to the nocturnal hush!

The sacred idiom
Shorn of thy penitent sky
Lone figures shambling the brutal wastes
In a time before God and gods
All gone now save me and thee
me and thee
me and
(is it real?)
--the fire
(yes the fire)
--yes it is
O now the point of no return!

O now my muse draweth breath
Her hillocks of pleasure rise full as pale moons
Now, against the dawn!

I try to think of something to say
Beyond the numbness of the dull world
My love for you grows and beats
Never to wink out
(dont give up)
--okay
(are you an angel?)
--I dont know what she is I never thought
(-what if I said she is a goddess?)
--is she?
yes
well

The day is here, the day is come
O my muse O day is here!

A dull rose glow in the sky
Love eviscerate upon the heavens
Fused traceless forever from the earth
Neckcords and boneshapes

The noonday sun spins in the sky
Like a molten bolt
With al the glory of a forgotten god

The sun is setting
drowning the western sky
old dry leaves rattle frail and withered
as old voices
trailing stiffly down down down
a world always verging on ruin
if not for you
like some rain sprite
beauty
innocence
plenitude
goddess my goddess

I'll fear not the darkness
When my flame shall dim O muse
Clear peal of vesper bells
Laughing of children
A spinning silver sun.

Signs in gypsy language
lost patterns, first in forever
I stand in the leaves at the top of the hill
and look into the blackness
nothing to see
no wind no past a future with you
only that
there you are
just the faintest visible shape
where the moon melts to the earth

A leaden curtain and O my muse
Behold the glory!
Of her visage in great twilight!

Goodness or godness
god or good
one and the same
Do you believe
Do you believe in love?

Steve
12-28-2007, 08:18 PM
THROUGH THE WINDOW (MY LOVELY)


I sit at my bedroom window
By the light of a spirit lamp
For all my days have no glow
The night on my soul a stamp
O and the space between us
Opens up wounds in my hearts
A black lantern in the failing dusk
O the deepening shades of dark
And the kerosene smokes damn thick
Throwing sparked showers bright
On the window where the rain runs slick
Like constellations fresh with light

Through
Through the
Through the window
O my lovely

After three days and sleepless nights
Burnin the midnight oil
I miss your smile, your sweet delights
Which flower in my heart's soil
And the rain outside, babe, showing signs
Of letting up once again
And if I don't see you again
or take you hand in hand
I won't ever go to sleep again

My window
Through my window
Through my window
O my lovely

I pass the night in restless pursuit
Of your memory O my lovely
Of a beautiful face and a body to boot
And times spent in your company
Someone to share the strafes and stripes
Of all the hate, all the drama
A companion to cling to in troubled times
By the long dark nocturama
Come through my window
Come through my window
O please come through my window
Come through my lovely

Steve
07-12-2008, 11:25 PM
IN THE GLASS, EYE OF GOD






It haunts my dreams, my waking life
Simian eyes of horrible knowledge
Unshaped by things at the behest
Of a raw god of the depths.

In my dreams the depths are plumbless
And you are forever falling, falling down,
The darkness (solid to the touch!) swoons in grots and clots:
Sphere of the Father, shining white and bright:
Nothing more than a slip of a memory.

Now see, dear friend, sentinels of the watch.
Great eyeless squid jetting, drifting into shadow
The pasty lid cracks to wink hugely and I see
My soul twinned in that great craze
Deeper than the sea, deeper than the
Icy bottomlands of Hell.

Flakes of flame fall from far above,
(Does God weep for the sinless?)
Struggle as I fall from that Face, that eternal Love,
And by and by Sorrow comes to steal your breath,
--Who are You, what right do You have,
To shuttle me here, unvaulted night, unwanted terror,
Away from the shining glory of Heaven,
And the smiling rays against the days:
O, all things shining!

The thrum of the chord, plucked by fingers unseen,
The guardsman of this eternal gaol where I am kept,
(The days are forever etched in the black
Scratches, bright as jade dace, of time spent lost).

Does the judge weep for those upon whom he passes sentence,
Is he troubled, does he pray, tell me so,
I cry out to the battlements and dark ramparts
And my voice falls on deaf ears:
And mine among them.

Drowning in the black bay of ichor,
Hell's rollicking sea:
There is a storm a-comin', sure as the world,
There! What crackles on the horizon there:

Desolate castaways look to a sun, the Sun, and smile,
Smile in blood to the broad beam of the ball, droll drawl of the day,
Their lifelines have come and so hath mine;
Hands thrust heavenward, clemency unwashed,
Brothers--guiding me to the Light.