In the City of Art
   Selected Poems
   By
   J. Berchman Bernard Stewart
   Copyright 2013 J. Berchman Bernard Stewart
   Proofreading and additional formatting by Joey Abisso
   “In the City of Art the King is a beggar’’
   Table of Contents
   The Halcyon Hours
   The Early Rose
   Weigh This Heart
   In the City of Art
   Throne of Granite
   War’s Gold Ring Of Terrible Wisdom Gained
   Lamentation
   On the Qualities of Mercy I Beg to Differ
   Nor’easter
   That Thieving Christmas Souse Mouse
   Flash Flood
   Seraphs In Attics Descend 
   Hearts On Panes
   Night’s blizzard seen when the blinds are raised in the morning
   Unbecoming
   Footfalls
   Spring's Rummy Bum Bees
   A Snowman’s Days Are Thine
   Passin’ Thru
   Storm In The Desert
   First
   Divorce
   Platinum Texas Oil Princess
   Sundials Riding Time’s Glacier
   The Ski Lift to Paradise 
   Chance Meeting Among Roses
   Long Gray March of Remembrance
   The Dance At The Lake  
   On The Fourth
   Chumps
   First love
   The Princess Salome Surrenders Her Jerusalem to Alexander the Great
   The Halcyon Hours
   Could be stayed, the Female Halcyon Hours
   Where lie lithe willow limbs’ luring powers
   Go stay the verdant eve of Peach and Cream
   Seize its long languid dusk’s slant amber beams
   Make wait the green-eyed sea’s departing tide
   Bind it lapping the blonde strand’s sand long wide
   Tower of Ivory, House of Gold stay
   The Satin Alabaster Altar fades
   The Early Rose
   With turned up collar I’ll go stroll
   that worn grass trail so windy cold,
   which wends past graves where faded pale,
   tattered frail Christmas ribbons flail.
   Chill bare branches will drip snowmelt,
   gaunt gray woods and fields still wet.
   Trembles not yet a foal or fawn
   shaky, weak, up from dew damp lawn.
    
   Yet, if seen on the graveyard’s wall
   that early burning ruby rose,
   blooming there in the late snowfall,
   I’ll touch its velvet to my nose,
   and know then that I’ve been given
   one more Spring here... to live again.
   WEIGH THIS HEART
   NOW COME AND WEIGH THIS HEART
   BUT FOR A FAIR MEASURE
   PLEASE LEAVE LOVE’S SMALL TREASURE
   WHAT IRON SET APART
   THEN PLACE IT ON TIME’S SHELF
   NEXT TO THAT FRAGILE DUST
   YET MIND LEST TOUCH THE DUST
   THAT DUST WAS I MYSELF
   In the City of Art
   Thy brush I claim harem
   Uncover yours mine arm
   and up now hence depart
   unto the City of Art.
   Roar there my glorious power
   subsumed within a sunflower.
   Hurl stooped my meek Son,
   reaping, his poor among.
   Jerusalem’s deaf ears
   my Prophets killed.
   My Prophet Vincent here,
   in Art, deaf eyes will.
   THRONE OF
   GRANITE
   Time rules from Granite thrones
   Arrayed in this thrown down
   Crisp snowy Seraph’s gown
   Gray Headstones for his crown
   His treasure trove Leaves brown
   High praise the bare limbs moan
   All in time King Time owns
   The Lord of all the sown
   War’s Gold Ring Of
   Terrible Wisdom Gained
   Eternal, for all, awaits this carousel.
   Frozen pose its wild steeds bejeweled.
   In mirrors bright bulbs dizzy spin
   as bubbles in champagne do swim.
   The steam pipe organ cracks its cheeks.
   A hundred trumpets blow, drums beat.
   Ominous the widow waltz it hums.
   Brave young come, strapped laughing on,
   no escape allowed them. What fun!
   The orbit goes slowly round then
   faster rotates to another one.
   Shriek screaming forth, returning fly.
   Desire for this irony makes us buy.
   Age to age we pay much to ride, till
   it stops, and those few left will.
   all off crawl, so ill.
   Gleaming, ready the ride patient waits.
   For tender warriors endless it’s appetite
   Happy to instruct arrogant generations
   in life’s tragic, ghastly riding lesson.
   Dismount fools drenched in hell’s pain,
   War’s gold ring of terrible wisdom gained.
   Lamentation
   Heads bared, stunned, orate can none. 
   Silent encircle, enter only honor in. 
   Let no stain of pretense come
   near this fallen’s true devotion.
   Ohh!  I have lived too long,
   to see buried this young friend.
   Earth covets us these finest,
   must slake its envious thirst
   and drinks so soon our very best,
   just helmet, boots, medals leaves,
   so little left on which to grieve. 
   Bright eyes gone lifeless close.
   Now slips away a noble soul
   to up fly in the heavens starry.
   Come… swift, reach up just then
   to last touch much loved friend.
   One so faithful could never fail
   and will command a moment tarry, 
   thus, for seconds precious will
   tower o'er all and last salute flail,
   present and accounted for... still.
   On the qualities of 
   Mercy I beg to differ
    
   Mercy is not like rain at all, 
   It does not fall, 
   it floats, drifts thither,
   a speck of a feather.
   Yet, like rain too, whither
   mercy comes and goes,
   you can never really know.
   Today it’s a nun… next 
   A drunken bum 
   you least expect
   his paper bag pint shares
   cigarettes from the homeless hag? 
   Un-believable-
   You know, I’m almost glad
   I’m down in this sad pit.
   That small kind touch, 
   there is so much of it.
   I might have missed all this.
   Mercy abounds anointing all
   In this awful place
   filled with the fallen or disgraced.
   Wondrous little deeds so generous, 
   not forced or feigned, plain goodness
   circulates, kind, patient
   Rain falls, but mercy forth pours. 
   Have Give Drink Take 
   Your face upraise 
   Drown eyes, lips, with its drops.
   Oh, one more thing… rain stops.
   Mercy never stops.
   Forever slakes this thirst… So sweet to taste
   Meditation on the virtue patience
   NOR’ EASTER 
   In winter storms I sometimes walk
   our lane of frozen mud
 &nb 
					     					 			sp; which just last autumn past was muck
   that tires sculpted into ruts
   Once while I went my way
   by fence of pale gray rails
   I came upon a mare
   crusted in pearls of hail
   standing with vacant stare
   mute and numb, endured
   the tempest’s tortures
   seeming not to mind or care
   Oh… would I were that mare
   could that serene take hurled
   world’s misery on me inculcate,
   thus merit her veil of patient pearls
   when flail not ‘gainst sad snowy fate
   That patient mare she knows
   To gain the virtue patience pearls
   You need not ‘neath seas go at all
   You need not go down out the gate
   With sail of patience unfurled wait
   Nor’easter’s misery will fly to thee
   T’will fair thee pearly all o’er with sea
   “That Thieving
    Christmas Souse Mouse"
   Ah! Christmas Eve…‘tis great!
   All the ho hum holiday
   about the master’s house
   I {saucy lout} doth lay
   and 'pon my fur luxuriate
   while pait’ly wait
   till late lights douse.
   Thence boldened by belly
   to sweetmeat thief intent, 
   I do thence genrelly
   feats o' larder larceny commence
   Shh!  So hoho scairry!! Hear!
   That chewme cat mews… Near?
   Ai Yi Yikes! Crikey! 
   Dat cat’s teeths spikey.
   Yet, feary that cat so
   scary, wary I still will go.
   Pelt hairy raised I’ll race…!!
   Haymake, waylay, and dreyaway
   much Mickelmouse cake.
   Silky Slinks m'slinks 
   The masters spilled drink,
   carousing, m' drinks. 
   Then, woozy eyes fogged
   by boozy drops egg nogged,
   wild mincy capers m’ capes. 
   Sigh, I moust confess!
   Drunk as a skunk...yessss, 
   I should desist?...desist?
   Tell me, could you resist
   such Candlemas largesse?
   Cock crows the morn!
   Drat!!..So soon the Dawn?
   Now swagbag drag content 
   I give way ta mum n' gent. 
   Yes this rummy must repent.
   Hence someday sway to S. A. 
   {That’s Souse Anonamouse}
   But, faith, I pray no way,
   till wake on New Year’s day.
   FLASH FLOOD
   Too many a poke heard late 
   a storm’s thunder rumble,
   hence missed a flashoff's roar.
   Thence I 'spect met his fate
   splashin' through heaven's door 
   mount an' all there drenched
   soakin' wet up against
   too early … that pearly gate.
   Seraphs In Attics Descend 
   On the frost-laced porch I smoked
   a Christmas cigar with no coat,
   my hands shaking ‘round a hot bulb,
   shivering from the cold’s assault.
   Snowmen with fixed accusing stares
   guard the children’s snow angels flared. 
   Then open doors send gold light thrown
   on diamond piles of moonlit snow.
   These faithful ranks of bright porch lights
   defy this darkest winter night.
   High soft winds stir gray bare limbs and,
   again, attic’s Seraphs descend.
   Hearts On Panes
   On cold gray days our 
   fingers drew hearts on 
   rainy, steamy panes.
   Those misty hearts would fade,
   but with our breath blown there,
   hearts lost appeared again.
   Sometimes those panes would break,
   then taking some small pains,
   broken panes whole we’d make.
   Yet, when our hearts are broken,
   words in cold air spoken 
   are just useless clouds spurned.
   Never lost hearts return.
   Never come back again…
   Night’s blizzard
   seen when the blinds
   are raised in the morning
   Deep white’s advance.
   Swift winds whirled twirled 
   drifts hurled to swirled
   steep inclined slants.
   Unbecoming
   Tentative the panther steps 
   Motionless the python flicks 
   Parrot green canopy smolders
   Carved stone blocks molder,
    
   “Panther, whence gone these Maya?
    Why and wherefore pray?”
     
    Panther, parrot, python say: 
    “Maya out of Maya take
    Maybe thousand hearts a day.
    Crazy blood soaked selves negate.
    Hence the Maya away went … 
     
    Panther, parrot, python stay.”
   FOOTFALLS 
   These Christmas ribbons they
   on graves gaily hailing
   forlorn pale fade sure
   when the faithful step
   to life away swept
   hence fail come manicure 
    
   or death silence all 
   save gardener’s footfall
   Spring's Rummy Bum Bees
   Vaults Spring sun a buttery bright yellow 
   in baby blue sky hurled high o’er all.
   Glisten candy petals red burning ruby. 
   Blossom jewels wet lacquer drool honeys.
   Venus desires wild wanton riot,
   Wills her flowers all intoxicate
   Mad distilling, spilling perfumes enthrall.
   See! bees so tipsy stupor woozy
   they sideways drift boozy drowsy.
   Ah! The Squire Bumble comes to call,
   fumbles backwards, stumbles, stalls.
   Feigns nectar's chambers enter, halts, tease,
   tickle lickle... Pause... Sudden flees?
   Left bereft flowers much displeased
   Cry "Oh! That fickle drunk bee bum.
   That does it! We are done with him.
   What a miserable little rummy.
   Run off again with his puffed up 
   hussy Miss Prissy Breeze Puff."
   “A Snowman’s Days Are Thine”
   In July’s grass I spied
   a tuft of colors frayed.
   Up I pulled an old lost cap; 
   a memory it conveyed.
   This was the long-lost hat 
   of the first snowman that
   merry here we rendered.
   His glory descended
   till hung from a slush stump, 
   sad carrot, hat, coal lumps, 
   That’s when so young we learn
   Time’s our enemy stern
   We, too, have snowman’s days.
   It seems of snow we’re made.
   Bequeathed cruel Earth will leave 
   hat, scarf, upon to grieve. 
   With a sadness that never ends
   I see those snowman friends
   Out lacey windows they exist.
   In winter’s reverie persist. 
   In Memory’s misty pane see
   there my small face with joy wintry,
   and pain when my first snowman thence
   melted the bliss of innocence.
    
   Passin’ Thru
   Reined up, stopped to smoke.
   Match on my beard scratch.
   The fat cloud's shadows black 
   quilt the vast valley patched.
   Passin’ thru Horse n'me,
   Goin' into history
   nobody here what cares,
   'cept bossy rattler there.
   Easy now horse 
					     					 			 you hear?
   Don't fret rear up all scared
   Rattler jus' havin' fun,
   Drinkin’ too much lucky sun.
   His noisemaker he displays.
   Ceaseless wild shakes 
   starts rattlin' thataway
   Boozy disgraced snake.
   Use any ol' 'scuse to drink
   Every ding-dong day
   New Years’ Eve celebrates.
   So he says… So him thinks!
   Storm In The Desert
   Horse n' I spy on out
   half a day ride about,
   traipsin’ comin’ sideways,
   ol' stumble bum storm gray.
   Been drinkin' all day, now
   him shoutin’ an spoutin’,
   kickin’ up wraithy drapes
   of misty, rainy spray.
   He's muttrin' and rumblin'
   Somethin' he's there grumblin!
   Go' on let fly those tears,
   Just us nobodies here.
   Your secret's safe with me
   You raging gray King Lear.
   First
   Is not that first drop of rain
   rain enough to say ‘sweet it rained?’ 
   More drops of rain be but “more rain this” 
   yet n’er sweeter e’er the first drop's kiss.
   Homage au E.A. Poe 
    
   Divorce 
   We ghosts hold fast here...You ask why? 
   On love's remains we sobbing lie 
   Would stop dead love to tomb bring.
   Around love's cold neck our arms cling. 
   Love's catafalque we hover near. 
   We struggle at love’s bier to bide.
   Having no place to be left here, 
   in empty lonely houses hide.
   And when the light gloaming gray fades, 
   there on chairs we wraiths silent wait.
   Stone-Statue still, death-masked just sit,
   crying all through the night's black wake.
   Bruised purple will break the day.
   Knocks the relentless, heartless Sun,
   Morn’s pale pallbearer mists then come,
   again Love they’ll convey away.
   Perchance you meet we ghosts, don’t fear.